The sunwheel rolls out through the sky,
from early dawn to dusk and night,
The mountains tall with snowy hats,
Keeping giants, orcs and bats,
The forest green or sometimes red,
giant butterflies on their leafy beds,
The green meadows a flowerbed,
The bees searching them for honey yet,
Birds fly over, though no eagles fabled,
The horses fed and in their stables,
The houses warm and the mead flows good,
The children smiling covered in soot,
No drake been seen in generations three,
I think I think when all this I see,
How more happy can a I be.
- Whunjo's mutterings as he has no company in the beerhall.
