Hail land of ice
and thunder flame!
The one thought löst,
returns again;
when shadow ships
unfurl their sails
to chart a course
behind the whale.

This fleet will pass,
the Isle of Sheep,
where Thor –
the God of thunder sleeps,
then plough, their prows
towards Smokey Bay
this place,
where his ancestors lay.

Here place him
in the ancient ground,
with peace and fjords
his only sound.
Carve deep into the stone above:
‘He knew just war.
But died of love.’

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