Welcome, traveler, step inside, Beneath the arches, deep and wide. Here at my tomb of stone and flame, A thousand years still bear my name. I was a viking, young and proud, Swords and fire, the war drums loud. In England’s halls I saw the cross, The shining gold, the gain, the loss. Blood in the earth, light in the sky, A king may fall, but saints don’t die. Legends bloom where bodies lie, Blood and light will unify. They say I ruled with iron hand, I broke the gods to claim this land. Tell me, friend, what else could be, Against the lords who fought with me? Cruel, they call me, sagas write, But crowns are forged in fire and fight. Peace was bought with pain and flame, And history carved my name. Blood in the earth, light in the sky, A king may fall, but saints don’t die. Legends bloom where bodies lie, Blood and light will unify. Ten short years, my reign was done, Exile called, I had to run. In Russia’s halls I raised my kin, Gathered steel, and marched again. At Stiklestad my blood was spilled, My restless voice was hushed and stilled. Yet stories rose from where I fell, And saints are born in fire and hell. Blood in the earth, light in the sky, A king may fall, but saints don’t die. Legends bloom where bodies lie, Blood and light will unify. They touched my sword, the sick were healed, The grave revealed what time concealed. “Unbroken flesh, a fragrant breath”— Can you believe such tales of death? So pilgrims came from far and near, To bow before my silence here. Was I a tyrant, king, or priest? Judge for yourself—my soul’s released.
