All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wonder are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be the blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king. Where is horse and the rider? The horn that was blow? They have passed like the wind on the method. Like shadow in the sky. The day has come down in the west, into shadow.
Hugi notar vefkökur til að bæta notendaupplifun á vefsíðunni og greina umferð um hana.
Einnig hefur Hugi uppfært persónuverndarstefnu sína. Skoðaðu stefnuna hér..
