Arsgang (Year Walk)
These Swedish woods fill up with snow
And me in my cabin, lo,
Without food to eat
Or luxury of sleep,
I wait without light
For Årsgång night.
The Brook Horse by the river near,
The fatal Huldra to all who hear;
Avoid the Nightraven for your sake,
Or jealous Mylingen of your funeral make.
No time to ponder my mistake –
This one chance I must take.
To the churchyard I slowly creep
Among the creatures who do not sleep.
The Grim before me beckons to his heart
And gives mine quite a start.
But now, finally, I can see
What will, at last, become of me.
Will you take your own walk this year?
The time for it draws near.
But while what you may see that night
Could give you quite a fright,
Always remember – it can be changed;
Nothing is prearranged.