Raua Needmine
Metsatöll
Curse of Iron
Oh you, iron damnation,
iron damnation, wretched wretch,
flesh eater, bone biter,
innocent blood spiller!
Where did you get so evil,
too arrogant?
Fierce you, iron damnation!
I know the birth of your madness,
I suspect the beginning of your wickedness!
You walked with three earthly maidens,
daughters of the sky,
milking breasts onto the ground,
milking onto the swamp.
One milked black milk,
thus iron became soft,
another milked white milk,
from which swords were made,
the third milked blood red,
from which iron was born into the world.
I know the birth of your madness,
I suspect the beginning of your wickedness!
You were not yet great,
not yet grand,
when you groaned on the anvil,
screamed under the hammer.
They brought laughter from the snake,
a poisonous skin from the black serpent.
That iron wouldn't be evil
without the laughter of snakes.
Protect now, mighty Creator,
shield, beautiful God,
so that this man does not disappear completely,
but rather his mother's children.
