The Raven Flag
It was the Raven Flag we raised,
at a time where Vikings travelled
through forests, through the land,
crossing hills, crossing seas,
under celestial enigmas of the stars,
where the dragon ships reigned.
We are grounded in that past,
we are rounded by that culture,
by that era and its sources,
by a nature, that was wilder,
by a world full of wights,
by its gods and its jötnar,
by the the Völva and the world tree,
yes, by all of this we are encircled.
The black wings of the Raven remind
us of the wide open spaces we find
in nature, in the moonlight,
in ourselves, somewhere in the mind,
in culture, that is committed
in nature, that we have betrayed,
in a kinship between species,
in neglected parties of covenants,
in the voices, that we sense,
but are inhibited by contemporary norms.
These are layers we wish to embrace,
this is why we fly the ravens,
this is why we change the course,
this is what we pass on with the flag.
We are rooted in old tribes,
but we create the settings ourselves,
provide new perspectives
of the novelties we shape.
This is why we’ll keep writing
on the pages of the new times,
opening the door for a few more,
rewilding ourselves a little more.
Fewer regulations, more equality,
fewer borders, more freedom —
those are the settings we change,
the relations we form,
and the cultures we blend,
when we raise the Raven Banner.