...and though this land is dark and old
it shines with stories yet untold;
its rivers dances brave and bold.

It's held enthralled by bitter snow
where hunters hunt with gleaming bow
and ancient mists in valleys glow.

The southern lands sprout fields of rye -
its ranging hills and blood-red sky
resounds an eagle's lonely cry.

Before we laid down roads to roam
this was the land of elf and gnome
and I am proud to call it home.