Luyện nghe bài hát Ansuzgardaraiwo

Voices from the world can be heard through the dark
winternights, the heartbeats of the spirit. It is the twelve
of Yule. Dark shapes can be seen in the sky; riders of
death. They suddenly charge from the clouds in wonderful
wilderness; kings and chieftains, and murderers - all in
the same phalanx, mysteriously through the air on spirit
horses, arriving when least expected. Black shields, from
bear and wolf, shining blades, open and ropes still tied
around their necks; are Wuotan's pack of warges, the undead
and the dead - the warriors of Ansuzgarda! The
werewolves haunt the sacred days of Yule in packs, looking
the living; hail the sacred traditions, hail the spirits of
the dead, hail the holy of Wuotan, or face the wrath of
the and the hooves of Sleipnir. Face the Ansuzgardaraiwo!