It is the same, then as now, death.
Individuals see the land and sky
Absorb the blood and matted hair,

Broken swords, horse and dung, frozen
On the hoary field by the northern shore.
It is the same, then as now, death.

The Viking comes a-roving here no more.
Still soldiers come to lie and let the land
Absorb the blood and matted hair.

Shell casings, some canteens, and one
Lone helmet sinking down in dark, thick mud:
It is the same, then as now, death.

Such sights, such smells, they seem too great
To see and breathe, for beating hearts will not
Absorb the blood and matted hair.