Cales
Barbarian Paganus
War booty, armour forged by the hands of a craftsman
Harvest and noble presents, trading with loot.
Fragrance and stench everywhere
Abundance of everything you may desire
Heroes from the north-east, sturdy Vikings cunning
Slavs, dogged Saxons, juggler Celts and wild Arabs and Turks, mad pagan dogs.
Highlanders, herdsmen and sea-farers,
Warriors and wandering tradesmen,
Nearly all the scum of the heathen nations
Skirmishes and pleasures, women shameless
Wine and beer and booze, drinks galore,
To your heart's content
With a beggar's stick or wielding a sword, it devil may care.
Now live, tomorrow you'll be struck down;
With a bit of luck you'll die a cow's death in the hay.
Every wolf knows the purpose of his mouth,
Hunted like a marauder, unwelcome murdering beast,
Must be uprooted from his own territory.
The headsman strikes the merciful blow
And pulls the rope for everyone who don't bow down their backs
From Letras Mania