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To approach the bells when ringing,

And the tinkling of the cow-bells,

But ’tis not permitted to thee,

Nor permission has been given,

To commence a work of evil,

Or a deed of shame accomplish.

“Should thy frenzy come upon thee,

And thy teeth be seized with longing,

Cast thy frenzy in the bushes,

On the heath thy evil longing,

Then attack the trees all rotten,

Overthrow the rotten birch-trees,

Turn to trees in water standing,

Growl in berry-bearing districts.

“If the need for food should seize thee,

Or for food the wish thou feelest,

Eat the fungi in the forest,

And do thou break down the ant-hills,

And the red roots do thou delve for;

These are Metsola’s sweet dainties.

Eat no grass reserved for fodder,

Neither do thou hurt my pasture.

“When in Metsola the honey

Is fermenting and is working,

On the hills of golden colour,

And upon the plains of silver,

There is food for those who hunger,

There is drink for all the thirsty,

There is food to eat that fails not,

There is drink that never lessens.

“Let us make a league eternal,

Make an endless peace between us,

That we live in perfect quiet

And in comfort all the summer,

And to us the lands are common,

And our provender delicious.

“If thou dost desire a combat,

And wouldst live in hopes of battle,

Let us combat in the winter,

And contend in time of snowfall.