Lydt gjennem Luften i Natten farer
et Tog paa skummende sorte Heste.
I Stormgang drage de vilde Skarer;
de have kun Skyer til Fodefæste.
Det gaaer over Dal, over Vang og Hei,
gjennem Mulm og Veir; de endse det ei.
Vandreren kaster sig ræd paa Veien.
Hør hvilket Gny – det er Asgaardsreien!

[Resoundingly through the night air rushes a procession
on foaming black horses. In time of storm the wild bands
move; they have only clouds as a foothold. It [i.e., the storm]
goes over valley, over meadow and heath, through dense darkness
and wind; they pay it no heed. The terrified wanderer
throws himself down on the road. Hear what a clamor--it is
Asgaardsreien!]

Ibsen