THE LAST LOOK BEFORE WINTER💀

Описание: LYRICS:
Verse 1:
My power is not what I build, but what I let go.
Not the hand that clenches the dagger, but the one that opens the granary
when frost paints the rooftops white.
The true Höfðingi is not measured by what he accumulates in summer,
but by what he distributes when winter hisses at the door.
I know the names of hunger.
It has the face of the blacksmith's widow,
the empty gaze of children on the edge of the fjord,
the tremor in the shoulder of the old skald who no longer sings.
My Megin is not a shield for me,
it is a roof that extends a little beyond my threshold.
Strength that does not overflow and warm others
is only frozen pride, an ice statue in the sun.

(Pre-Chorus - Voice becomes a pragmatic oath)
May my name not be sung in sagas of plunder!

Let it be whispered in dark kitchens,
in gratitude for an anonymous sack of grain at the door.

Let my fame not be that of a feared Hersir,
but of a reliable Bóndi.
Of the man whose word is a wall against despair.

(Sound of a heavy sack of grain being placed on the earthen floor)
My trophy does not fit in a hall.
It fits in the full stomach of one who owes me nothing,
except his own intact dignity.

(Chorus - Voice explodes in a song of calm strength, like a tree laden with fruit)
MY STYRKR DOES NOT VIBRATE IN THE MOUTH OF THE FJǪRDR!
IT VIBRATES IN THE SILENCE OF THE HLÁÐ (BRANCH) THAT DOES NOT EMPTY!

I AM NOT THE TIP OF THE SPEAR THAT BREAKS THE ENEMY LINE!

I AM THE SHOULDER THAT CARRIES THE WOUNDED BACK HOME!

WHEN THE MÓÐR (FURY) OF THE WEAK BECOMES A HOWL OF HUNGER,

MY ROAR WILL BE THE CRAKLING OF MY WAREHOUSE DOOR OPENING!

I AM NOT THE WOLF THAT DESTROYS ITS PREY!

I AM THE BOAR THAT DIGS ROOTS IN THE FROZEN EARTH

AND SHARES THEM!

THAT IS POWER!

THAT IS TO REIGN!

(Verse 2 - More introspective voice, almost tired, but firm)
Sometimes, at twilight, I feel the shadow of the Jötunn of Indifference.

He whispers: "Guard. Accumulate. They are not yours."

It is then that I look at my hands.

They were not made only to wield,
but to measure the right portion.

To feel the weight of another's need and balance it.

The alpha is not the predator at the top of the chain.

It is the cornerstone of the community.

The one that sustains the weight so that others do not crack.

My war is not for territory.

It is against the coldness that wants to settle in my chest
like ice on a lake. I break it, every day,
with the simple axe of remembered duty.

(Pre-Chorus - With the strength of a natural principle)
By Thor who protects not only with the hammer,
but with the rain that makes the fields germinate!

By Freyr who gives not only peace,
but the fertility that nourishes peace!

I am not a god. I am a man.

And the divinity of man lies in the act of sustaining.

My offering is not of blood on the hörgr (altar).
It is of flour in the bowl.
Of firewood in the empty hearth.
Of presence in the house of mourning.

(Sound of a log being placed next to a fireplace)

(Repeated Chorus - With background voices that sound like a chorus of women and children, in simple and grateful harmony)

(Bridge - Voice transforms into an almost sung melody, a lullaby for adults)

And when the last snow falls, and the first green sprout persists,
and they ask me: "What did you build?"

I will not point to walls or fortresses.

I will take a handful of black, rich, living earth,
and say:
"This.
I built this.
Not with iron, but with gestures.
Not with fear, but with abundance.
I built a piece of the world
where 'we' is still greater than 'I'.
And this, this is the only fortress
that time cannot destroy."

(Final Chorus - Unique voice, hoarse with emotion, without guttural vocals, just human and immense)
MY STYRKR DOES NOT VIBRATE IN THE MOUTH OF THE FJÖRDR!

(Sound of the wind in the fjord, now calm)
IT VIBRATES IN THE SILENCE OF THE HLÁÐ... WHICH DOES NOT... EMPTY!

(The sound of the sack of grain being dragged)
I AM NOT THE TIP OF THE SPEAR!

I AM THE SHOULDER!

I AM THE SHOULDER...
I AM... THE SHOULDER...





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