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- Translated transcription: Another army.
High up under the threatening sky dark masses of ravens.
Their flight is a heavy flapping, with a loud rasping sound they swing their great wings, their huge numbers darkening the day. They too are hurrying towards the east, in over the plains.
The ravens are Óðinn’s birds, like him they thirst for blood offerings, preferring to pluck out the eyes of the dead, which gives them a hundred years of life.
At the head of the flock Vébjörg thinks she recognises the two ravens who followed her across the sea in the time she went on Viking raids. It is surely Huginn and Muninn who lead the winged regiment.
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