Geri and Freki does heerfather feed 
The far-famed fighter of old 
But on wine alone does the one-eyed god 
Wuotan, forever live 

O'er Midgard hugin and Munin both 
Each day set forth to fly 
For Hugin I fear lest [bad word] not home 
But for Munin my care is more 

There Valgrind stands, the sacred gate 
And behind're the holy doors 
Old is the gate, but few there are 
Who can tell it's tightly locked 

Five hundred doors and forty there are 
I ween, in Walhall's walls 
Eight hundred fighters through one door fare 
When to war with wolf they go 

Five hundred roomsand forty there are 
I ween, in Bilskirnir built 
Of all the homes whose roofs I beheld 
My son's the greatest meseemed 

Oh Wuotan 
Where your ravens fly 

There is Gladsheim, and golden-bright 
There stands Walhall stretching wide 
There does Othin each day choose 
All those who fell in fight 

There is Folkvang, where Freyja decrees 
Who shall have seats in the hall 
Half of the dead each day does she choose 
The other half does Othin have 

Now am I Othin, Ygg was I once 
Ere that did they call me Thund 
Wodan and Oden, and all, methinks, 
Are the names for none but me 

Oh Wuotan 
Where your ravens fly 

Hail to thee, for hailed thou art 
By the voice of Veratyr 
Where Valgrind stands, the sacred gate 
Ye will find nine golden doors 

Hail to thee, for hailed thou art 
By the voice of Veratyr 
Old is the gate, but few there are 
Who can tell how it's tightly locked