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December 29th, 2015 
Awake Goy Years ago ~ how long ago, I chanced upon a small story that struck a chord with me. After reading it I carefully placed the cutting away, which is now yellowed with age. It was re-published in an American patriotic tabloid many years ago. I have no idea what was in my mind, only that I might find a use for it someday. The internet, social media, such things were not even the stuff of dreams. May I share?
One would expect to find a spiritual difference between a race bred one hundred generations in the marketplace, where survival depended primarily on a glib tongue and an eye for a bargain, and a race shaped by the killing winters of the North, accustomed to combat and hardship. This difference between the Jewish spirit and the White spirit is manifested in the world around us in a thousand ways.
Perhaps nowhere has the contrast between the natural, healthy, adventurous spirit of our race and the spirit of the Jew been more sharply drawn, however, than in a couple of issues of the student newspaper published on the Los Angeles campus of California State College. In the first issue was printed a poem by Dr. Peter Peel, who teaches history there. The second issue contained a response to the poem from a Jew at the same college. Here is the poem, which was titled ‘Goetterdaemmerung’.
SEMITES AND VIKINGS
When spring lightly touches,
With hand green and golden,
The mountains and fjords,
Then shouts the sea rover,
“A Viking! A Viking!”
The hammers are busy,
On weapon and harness.
Then flashes the broad blade,
In every sea hamlet.
The dragon ships, thirsty,
For bounding blue water,
Leap down to the seashore.
And Olaf of Norway,
And Erik of Gotland,
And Thorwald the Mighty,
Whose grandsire was Wotan,
Stand fast on the poop deck,
With golden hair streaming,
With spear brightly glinting,
With eye fierce and blazing,
Sail out on the swan’s bath ~
The grey widow-maker,
For England or Iceland,
Byzantium, Vinland,
Far land or ancient,
And ripe for the plunder,
The burning of roof-trees,
The seizing of women,
The looting of treasure,
The flowing of red blood,
And wine for the victors.
Ah, whence fled those great days,
The days of our fathers,
The days of the valiant,
Of gods and of heroes,
Of fair maids and foul dwarfs,
And lindworms and dragons,
Of Boewulf, Dietrich,
Strong Harald, grim Hagen,
Wolfhart and Siegfried,
The greathearts the mighty?
The loathsome today is
The seed of their strong loins ~
The petty, the small,
The clod and the crawler.
The music has gone from the souls of our people,
The thunder has vanished away with Valhalla,
Now meekness and weakness,
And womanly virtues,
Have shackled, degraded,
And shamefully softened
The sons of our fathers,
The sons of the mighty.
And now we have traded,
The lightning of storm gods,
The arms of the Valkyries,
The halls of Valhalla,
The kiss of wish maidens,
For wings and a nightshirt,
A harp and a halo,
A psalm book and psalter?
Oh, no, my Lord Bishop?
Hark, grey Galilean,
The wolf age is coming,
The great fimbul winter,
When all sick things perish.
Source Article from http://renegadetribune.com/semites-and-vikings-no-love-lost/
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