- Haches de Guerre
le vent souffle, le vent souffle
le silence oppresse nos âmes
le froid transperce notre chair
sous le ciel sombre et immobile
la brume funèbre nous entoure
et remplit nos veines de haine
de cette haine sans pitié, sans merci
- Mon Utopie
La misanthropie est mon espoir
Car j’ai la haine et le dégoût
Envers les êtres qui souillent cette terre
Envers les êtres consumants la vie
Mon corps me retient sur cette terre, emprisonné
Mais mes pensés se perdent dans la nuit étoilée
- Svart Vinter
Svart vinter, kulde, enda
Jeg vandrer, Jeg vandrer endelig
Jeg vandrer gjennom snoen
Gjennom snoen og gra dis
Jeg vandrer gjennom de store traerne, enda
Enda, jeg star i den frysende flammen
Den frysende flammen av gammel pagan tider
Jeg vandrer, jeg vandrer endelig
- The Cold Wind of My Breath Is Always Blowing
The rain through who I rode is ethereal
Our forests are eternal
The cold wind of my breath is always blowing
In the frost that lies beneath the sky
The snowy mountain
The freezing glance of the moon, so cold
On my narrow path to darkness
- Watery Grave
I was young and I was pretty
Fooling around boys and men
Living life without a worry
I thought it would never end.
And then they came to me, a dozen men,
Bringing some sort of key leading to my
father's den!