He fell before his day. Sadness darkened in his hall. His mother looked to his shield on the wall, and it was bloody. She knew that her hero fell. Her sorrow was heard on Mora.
Night comes, and day returns, but none appears to raise their tomb.
Thou frightenest the screaming fowls away. Thy tears for ever flow. The sons of green Selma came. They found Cuthona cold. They raised a tomb over the heroes.