1. O sword of God’s faith, never would the foe be content

    were your sword to dispense justice as your justice does.

  2. No sooner do you level a spearhead at them in the fray

    than some towering warrior of theirs looms over it.

  3. Thus the meadow lies blood-dyed with starry blossoms,

    and the water, mingled with the blood of breasts, is mottled red.

  4. The dust-cloud is a robe figured with vultures in flight,

    and the earth a carpet patterned with steeds.

  5. An eagle-warrior darts upon the Eagle-banner, and there meet

    amid the horsemen a falcon-strong champion and a warrior felled.

  6. The written ranks of your cavalry—their alifs are nothing but

    dusky lances, dotted with blood and vowel-marked.

Sol 6.1