Rune Invocation

I Know Myself Hanging On The Wind Cold Tree

For Nine Icy Nights,

Wounded By The Spear, Consecrated To Odin.

I Consecrated To Myself.

I Was Hanging On The Mighty Tree

Which Conceals Man

Where Man Grew Out Of It's Roots.

They Offered Me Neither Bread Nor Wine;

So I Bent Down In Search.

I Recognized The Runes; Wailing I Grasped Them

Until I Sank Down From The Tree.

Now I Began To Increase, To Be Wise,

To Grow And To feel Well,

From The Word, Word Grew After Word

And Deed Shaped To Deeds With Deeds.

Now I Know The Songs Like No Wise One Knows

And None Of The Children Of Men,

And Should These Songs, Oh Human Child,

Be Un-learnable To You For Sheer Endless Times;

Grasp Them As You Get Hold Of Them.

Use Them As You Hear Of Them.

Hail You If You Retain Them!