Текст песни
High in the branches where the cold winds cry
An old gray eagle keeps his watchful eye
Deep in the roots where the dark coils stir
Old Níðhöggr gnaws with a venomous slur
But between the sky and the shadow below
Lives a little red rogue that the old gods know
With a tusk like a chisel and a tongue like a drum
He laughs in the bark - "Here I come!"
Whispers in the branches, whispers in the roots
Trouble in the trunk where the wild heart hoots
Up and down the world tree the rumors drum...
Run, Ratatoskr, run!
Up the ash and down you come
Carry every wicked word you've spun
Run, Ratatoskr, run!
From the eagle's cry to the serpent's tongue
Let the quarrel ring and the insults sting
Through the roots and the rising sun
Run, Ratatoskr, run!
"Dragon," he says, with a flick of his tail
"That feathered fool says your teeth are frail!"
Then he climbs with a grin through the creaking wood
"To the eagle above with the news he should!"
"Oh eagle," he laughs, "hear what coils below-
That worm says your wings are too slow to go!"
Then he chatters and cackles and beats the drum
Of the chaos he's become
From the crown to the caverns the rumors fly
Through the ancient limbs of the endless sky
Every step makes the old bark hum...
Run, Ratatoskr, run!
Up the ash and down you come
Carry every wicked word you've spun
Run, Ratatoskr, run!
From the eagle's cry to the serpent's tongue
Let the quarrel ring and the insults sting
Through the roots and the rising sun
Run, Ratatoskr, run!
Oh the gods may watch and the branches sway
While the little red herald makes mischief all day
Is he devil or jester? None can say
But the tree would fall silent if he ran away
So he scratches the bark with his drill-tooth grin
Where the shouting above meets the growl within
And the world keeps turning on the lies he flung