Homus Paganus

The cock crew in the morning,

I arose and went to the fields

Holding but a handful of seeds;

First I did sow then I did plough-

I prayed for rain to come down:

I prayed to Thor to burden the clouds

I looked up with hopes of a sky

Heavy, impregnated by a storm,

That would bring to life once more

My last handful of seeds;

I dreamt of the barely rich on the fields,

Would that I had a scythe

To reap all day long and then some more,

So as I could keep my storehouse filled

And put bread and ale upon my table...

Pray the Gods hear me,

Pray the wind bears my plea afar-

To the fields on high

Where immortals turn the soil

And blessings ripen like fruit

On the trees that guards vigilant

The fragrant orchards of Freyja...