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In the great hall of the king

Suddenly an old stranger strode

A blue cloak, a grey beard

In the tree he planted the sword

The man who could pull the blade

Free from the mighty ancient trunk

To this hero the weapon would belong

Invincibility upon him bestowed

Many warriors in the king's hall

Forcefully tried to take the sword

But the only man who succeeded

Was Sigmund, as the god intended

Soon the sword become the cause

Of bloody betrayel among kinsmen

By a lying coward's schemes

The sword of Volsung's son stolen

Treacherous Siggeir killed Volsung

Left Sigmund and his brothers to die

Sigmund alone survived the ordeal

And years lived as a wolf in the wood

His twin sister, bound to the traitor

Took fate in her hands by magic

And bore a son to her twin brother

To avenge her siblings and father

Sigmund at last came out of the wood

With his son to exact revenge

The sword returned to his hands

The divine blade struck down his foes

Long hard travels and bitter feuds

Eventful was the life of Sigmund

Much fame and glory bestowed upon him

But suffering and sorrow befell him too

Again he proudly rode into battle

As always the blade slew many enemies

When in the midst of battle like a ghost

The old man suddenly appeared before him

The stranger swung his mighty spear

And split the perfect sword in two

Without the blade, by enemies engulfed

Sigmund lost his life on the field

Years later both halves were made

Whole again by a mighty dwarf

Again the sword would harvest glory

And carve into history Siegfried's name