Brave Báli to the ground was cast,

Where prostrate in the dust he rolled

Clad in the sheen of glistening gold,

As when uptorn the standard lies

Of the great God who rules the skies.

When low upon the earth was laid

The lord whom Vánar tribes obeyed,

Dark as a moonless sky no more

His land her joyous aspect wore.

Though low in dust and mire was rolled