De La Grande Bibliotheque de Tamriel
By Anonymous
Akatosh, my strength comes from your hands,
My enemies fall before my sword.
Can you hear their cries?
Death, they cry.
Death, I sing.
But death is theirs, not mine.
Wipe the blade of their color.
Wipe the shield of their color.
Victory is ours!
Stendarr, grant my weapon fall only thus :
For justice, for the right ways.
Can you hear my plea?
Justice, they pray.
Justice, I sing.
Justice is mine, and also theirs.
Wipe the blade of their color.
Wipe the shield of their color.
Victory is ours!
For the way of the righteous is mercy,
And compassion for the weak.
Can I wield your sword and shield?
Mercy, they beg.
Mercy, I give.
Swift death to the unjust!
Slow death to the merciless!
Wipe the blade of their color.
Wipe the shield of their color.
Victory is ours!
|
