Árstíðir Lífsins
Aldrlok
1. Hvítir hjǫrvar Heimdalls aldraðra fjallgylða
"Sigtryggr, Jọrmunr, Saðr, Gunnblindi,
Jafnhár, Óski, Jọlfọðr ok Þrór,
Ýrungr, Skilfingr, Óðinn, Tveggi,
Veratýr, Sigþrór, Valgautr ok Yggr."
(Anonymous Þulur, Óðins nọfn 8)
Hvítir hjọrvar Heimdalls aldraðra fjallgylða
sọkka í alltumvefjandi niðamyrkr. Grænir kvis-
tir dọkkna, sortna, hvass hrafnvíns hyr gegnt
kọldu ofanhúminu. Dọgum saman galar steinóðr
galli storðar, þylr, forna spá hrjóstugra ok iðgræn-
na græðis vagna.
"Mart varð él, áðr, Ála,
austr lọnd at mun banda
randar lauks af rífki,
rœkilundr of tœki."
(Einarr skálaglamm Helgason, Vellekla 8)
Harmakvein óma frá hvítdøtraríki er dọkkt regn
hátunnu rennr frá Jọrmungands villiniðjum. Þar
hljómar kór gyðju randar, óðs regns odda áttboga
urðar ok eldfornar vígtennr Ýmis. Hvenær mun
slík óọld líða, hvar má skjọl finna í ọngþveiti ok ógn?
"Gladdisk naðr sára.
Niðr kom bens bára."
(Þorkell Gíslason, Búadrápa 11 (parts))
"Snýr á sókndreyra
sveita glóðheitum;
allr er salr sollinn
sanda dreyrblandinn."
(Hallgrímr, Fragment 1)
Hvat mæla styrjarraustir? Ek sé kvánar ara brá-
mánum byrgja ok ljúka upp dæmisal dóma. Hvísl
jafnt ọskr berask um hennar varir, um frummin-
ningar glataðar, um missi randviða stráfelldra.
Nístingsọskr hennar harmar missi várr aldrteigs
á hagþorns mó, várr verndarvætta ok vætr, ọllu er
kunnugt finnsk í fjọldans alsetrs veru. Óráðsvein
kveðr um hitt ókunnuga er mun granda fornum
græðis vọgnum svo ọll ummerki afmáð verða.
Er hún sekkr í sekkr í holdit forna, rata ridda-
rar hvítakrists í várr viðarvígi ok kyrja hinn bitra
benvọnd yfir mæðufullt tungl brásala móðr min-
nar ok họggva svo gýs geigrlegr hrælọgr ok flek-
kar skurðgoð dreka ok vætta. Andvana tafn ylgjar
sekkr í undirheima ok ek hleyp at skeiði Reifnis.
Úr fjarska bersk mér felmtr þeirra, um hjaldrborg
họrga ómar bergmál skelfingarveina er kveðr and-
látsorð móðr minnar til mín: Hverfr allt minni er
landvættir loga í trúarbálli spjótfylkingar Krists.
English:
"Sigtryggr, Jọrmunr, Saðr, Gunnblindi, Jaf-
nhár, Óski, Jọlfọðr ok Þrór, Ýrungr, Skil-
fingr, Óðinn, Tveggi, Veratýr, Sigþrór, Valgautr
and Yggr."
(Anonymous Þulur, Óðins nọfn 8)
White heads of old mountain giants were embra-
ced by all-covering darkness. Green twigs turned
dark-brown and black and became sharp swords
to the cold darkness above. The storm that howls
for days now tells of an old prophecy of these
rugged, green lands.
"Many a storm of Áli came about before the ten-
ding tree of the leek of the shield took the lands
in the east by force at the will of the gods."
(Einarr skálaglamm Helgason, Vellekla 8)
Screams howl from the realms of the white
daughters as dark clouds swoop in from the wild
descendants of Jọrmungandr. It is a choir of the
nine axes, a battle of the frost giants and the old
sharp teeth of Ymir. When will it end, where
is refuge to be found in these troubled times of
turmoil and terror?
"The snake of wounds was gladdened. The wave
of the wound poured down."
(Þorkell Gíslason, part of Búadrápa 11)
"Ember-hot blood snows on attack-blood; the
swollen hall of sands is all mixed with blood."
(Hallgrímr, Fragment 1)
What do the voices tell in all this noise? I see my
mother closing her eyes and opening her mouth.
She whispers, she screams of loss of old memory,
of loss of the many at once. She screams, howling
of losses of our life on this place, of our guardians
and spirits, of all that we know in our world of
the many. In delirium, she screams about a sense
of the unknown that will eradicate all lands of
old and leave no trace. As she sinks down to the
flesh of old, knights of the white christ find their
way into our wooden fortress to chant a song of
swords upon the exhausted head of my mother,
cutting it so that fountains of anguished blood
spill the wooden ornaments of dragons and spi-
rits. Her lifeless body sinks to worlds below and
I run to the shore. From afar, I hear their terror,
filled with howling screams echoing from the
mountains that tell me the last words my mother
uttered to me: All memory is lost when the spi-
rits of the land vanish in the fire (and faith) that
was ignited by the spear-headed conquerors of
Christ.
2. Stormr, hvítundit grand grundar gjálfrs
Stormr, hvítundit grand grundar gjálfrs
með nọpru morði viðar ok hvítdøtr
svartkuldans neðra: Máttr yðvarr er mikill ok
kenjóttr, skæð stingr yðvarr brá Gríðar fjọrnis
í gjálfr kringum botn élkers hinna kviku. Lát
makt yðvarr skapa oss byr en eigi mótvind.
Vit lútum mætti yðvarr ok þeirra frá eilífa
konungsríki hins volduga regns hátunnu at
ofan. Drekarnir níu úr háum ok rauðum hrott-
garmi viðar, segldúk ok eik bera oss til ærins
djúpọðuls ọðla, vel kunnugr mínum helgengnu
niðjum. Ísland heitir staðr, hrikalegt frón svar-
tra ægis beina allskarpra, eldheitra brynstingja
ok ísisvart mó hagþorns. Heyr, ógnargnýr kler-
kahvítra ok bjartra svaltungna rekninga ofan
frá nísta djúpt í drekahold ok glæða bál á stað
svo djarflega þrunginn lífi ok von. Sem furu-
kyndlar brenna, skíðloga fjọlskyldr í sameinin-
gu ok ọskra þar til lungu tærask undan níðbáli
Surtrsniðja.
"Hrynja fjọll á fyllar;
framm œsisk nú Glamma
skeið vertrliði skíða;
skaut bjọrn Gusis nauta."
(Hofgarða-Refr Gestsson, Ferðavísur 5)
"Ok Vísburs vilja byrði
sævar niðr svelgja knátti,
þás meinþjóf markar ọttu
setrs verjendr á sinn fọðr."
(Þjóðólfr ór Hvini, Ynglingatal 4)
Nú vinna hvítdøtr sitt verk ok andvana kol hver-
fa. Viðardrekar, lífsins tré, ættmenni lífs: Horf-
nir ok gefnir ọndum fjarlægra heima er aldregi
skópu aldrteig. Með þeim barsk gífrlegr missir,
gífrlegt fjọrbann. Einnig héldu margir forfeðr
mínir til slíkra hjóla jarðar. Er mín auðna at
fylgja þeim niðr í þann skæra glundroða? Allt
er ekki glatat, allt er ekki tekit í heiðis gọtr þess
er þeir kalla hinn eina hreina gram sólar salar
efra. Eftir fjórtán linnulausar nætr birtisk hvítr
fjọlskylduvinr við stormþungan sjóndeildarhrin-
ginn. Gamalvinr ok vonveitir, nautr dreyra jarðar
ok lífs. Jafnhendis elr skærilegan gand hallar ok
fjọrtjón. Mikla jọkulbreiða, taktu oss fagnandi
undir breitt leikblað fjaðrar jafnt lífs sem dauða.
Af þeim níu drekum sem sigldu til fjarlægs
víðbotns varðkera glyggs í norðri, lifðu eingọngu
þrír þá tryllingsleiki hinna níu fyrirlitlegu døtra,
þeirra hatrsmóðr ok hvítu sverðanna at ofan.
Ættmenni mọrg héldu á vit víðra vindkers botna
neðra, þar sem frænka mín ok mọrg ættmenni til
viðbótar féllu í eilífðarfaðm.
English:
Storms, white spears of cold winds, and
white daughters of the black cold below:
Large and capricious your powers are, and fier-
ce your blades cut into the worlds of the living.
Guide your spirits with and not against us.
We who are enslaved to your powers and the
ones from the eternal kingdoms of the mighty
clouds above. But the nine dragons of fire, sail,
and wood carry us. They carry us to a large isle
so well known to my doomed family. Iceland it
is called, a rugged land of black stones, of fiery
swords and of black and iced desterted land-
scapes it is. Yet, the roaring noise that follows
ecclectic white swords from above cut deep into
the flesh of dragons and set aflame a place so
bravely filled with life and hope. Like burning
candles of pine wood whole families are set ab-
laze and scream until their lungs are eaten by
the flaming atrocities of the kin of Surtr.
"Mountains fall into the sea; now the bear of
planks rushes forward on the race-course of
Glammi; the bear of the gifts of Gusir shot."
(Hofgarða-Refr Gestsson, Ferðavísur 5)
"And the kinsman of the sea swallowed the ship
of the will of Vísburr when the defenders of the
seat incited the harmful thief of the forest against
their father."
(Þjóðólfr ór Hvini, Ynglingatal 4)
Then, the white daughters do their work and
swallow up the lifeless black coal. Wooden dra-
gons, trees of life, kins of life; vanished and gi-
ven to spirits from far away worlds that never
created life. But so much loss, but so much death
did they bring. And to these worlds many of my
forefathers went, too. Am I destined to follow
them into this vivid chaos from below? Not all
is lost, not all is taken by the hands of what they
call the one god above. After fourteen nights of
no end, a white friend to my family appears on
the stormclad horizon. An old friend, a giver of
hope, water and life, yet a breeder of fire and de-
ath alike. You big glacier, welcome us below your
wide wings of life and death. Of the nine dragons
that set asail to this far world in the north, only
three outlived the wild games of the nine detested
daughters, of their hatred mother and of the whi-
te swords from above. Many a kin was taken to
the worlds below where my own aunt and many
more of my own kin are embraced by eternity.
3. Er faðir kulda ok myrkrs hopar fyrir endalausum vegi Ránar
Er faðir kulda ok myrkrs hopar fyrir
endalausum vegi Ránar snýr iðgrænt
líf aftr á lífsins miklu stoðir, lagðar frammi fy-
rir lọngum klóm hvítkuldans efra. Enn renna
ótal hreggi họggvin fellihryn fjalla ok glæða
hitt hróstuga land lífi sem við, farar drekanna
þriggja, tókum opnum faðmi ok họfum í mar-
gar vetrsetr kallat heimkynni várr. Vík kallask
sá svartsandsstaðr er dọkkir fingr rísa úr sjó.
Vọrr rádýris færir þeim er numu land fyrir
óralọngu mikit vald jafnt sem auð. Ættmenni
mín byggja þá græðis vagna ok veittu oss skjól,
þeim er bárusk með skæ sunda drekanna þrigg-
ja. Fyrir allstuttu þegar lọg ok siðir bárusk til
hvítfoldar flekkaðri grænu jafnt svọrtu, allt frá
snæviþoktum tindum niðr til brúnnar moldar,
safnaði Loftr sínum ófriðartungum glundroða
enn á ný. Benlogar léku sinn leik eftir hatrsorð
ok níðvísr bárusk með síðar skornum smiðjum
galdra. Til heljar halda þau niðri, til foldar snúa
þau at lokum. Þekkingu gjọrvallrar veraldar
taka þau með sér til Geitis vegs neðan. Til hinna
dauðu ok dauðans sjálfs. Þeim er lifa, ættmenni
mín ok kæru vinir, sóttu einnig at tungr vitrs
vekjanda lọgráns ok bál Hárs ógrlegu sólgnu
dólga manna.
"Stóðu vér und víðum
vindar tjọlgu linda,
herkir hyrjar serkja;
hvé of vélti þat belti?
Þat hykk hrammfjọtrs hvọttu
Hlọkk; fannkat mey rakka
í barrskelfis bjalfa
bjúgs þá raman smjúga."
(Auðunn illskælda, Lausavísa 2)
"Øx rýzk - eisur vaxa -
(allmọrg) - loga hallir -
(hús brenna) - gim geisar -
- góðmenni fellr - blóði."
(Atli litli, Poem about Óláfr kyrri 1)
"Fjallvọnðum gaf fylli,
(fullr varð) en spjọr gullu,
herstefnandi hrọfnum
(hrafn á ylgjar tafni)."
(Einarr skálaglamm Helgason, Vellekla 35)
Ný orð kennis krafts bárusk í hvern bæ torfs ok
grjóta, útskorin kvæði forn ok nýjar sýnir, allt
undir kọldum jọkulhọndum. Heimdallr, stíg upp
af hásæti þínu til at jafna krafta þagnar ok styrs,
sker burt óreiðubọl frá lífsins myndum. Í fjarska
sé ek hvar brennr Surtrs riðlogi randvallar er heggr
svo fjọrtjón ok harmr bítr atstandendr ættmenna
minna. Þá sem fylktu liði er vit bárumsk á þær
svọrtu strendr. Ný goðans lọg skipa oss, allt hitt
forna ok helga, allt innan ok undir fold mun grafit
ok gleymt. En engin vættr deyr meðan vindr blæs
undan blóði Ýmis.
English:
As the father of the cold and dark
slightly fades away to the endless sea
before me, the green life returns to this long
framework of life placed before the long hands
of the cold whiteness above. Yet, countless
rivers flow and bring life to this rugged land
which we from the three dragons have embra-
ced and called our home since several winters of
life now. Vík the community calls this place of
black sand, of dark fingers arising from the sea,
and of farmland that bring power and wealth to
those that settled this land very long ago. Rela-
tives of my family live in this place and gave us
shelter, us from the wooden planks of the three
dragons. But not long ago, when new laws and
rules were introduced to these white lands of
green and black, to the whiteness of snow ab-
ove and the brown earth below, Loki gathered
his countless tongues of turmoil and chaos
yet again, and swords played their game after
words of hate and anger were screamed by later
cutted throats. To hel they walk below, to this
earth they will return eventually. But all the
knowledge of this world they take with them to
the lands below. To the dead and to the death.
But for the living, for my kin and the ones dear,
for those the tongues of Loki and knives of the
dreadful giants also came.
"I stood beneath the broad girdle of the branch of
the wind, giant of the fire of mail-shirts; how did
the 'belt' trick me? I think the Hlọkk of the arm-
fetter encouraged that; I did not find the spirited
woman creeping then into the strong hide of the
bent pine needle shaker."
(Auðunn illskælda, Lausavísa 2)
"An axe is reddened with blood, embers prolife-
rate, very many buildings burn, halls blaze, fire
rages, a good man falls."
(Atli litli, Poem about Óláfr kyrri 1)
"The army-summoner gave the mountain-accus-
tomed ravens their fill, and spears resounded; the
raven was sated on the prey of the she-wolf."
(Einarr skálaglamm Helgason, Vellekla 35)
Because new words of our goði found their way
into each hut of turf and stone, of carved stories
of old and of visions of new, all beneath the white
hands of cold. Heimdallr, arise from your throne
to level the powers of silence and noise, to cut
the deadly chaos from the formation of life. From
afar, I see the flaming swords of Surtr cut life and devolve loss to those near to my kin. Those that
gathered when we finally landed on these black
beaches. Now that our goði has placed new rules
upon us, all that is old and holy, all that is wit-
hin and below this earth shall be forgotten and
gone. But no spirit is dead when the wind blows
it from the sea.
4. Eftir bjartlogar hróts hreggs kveikja ógnarstríðan úlf storðar í grasinu
Eftir bjartlogar hróts hreggs kveik-
ja ógnarstríðan úlf storðar í grasinu
berask flọkkuvættir niðr um hrímhendr hví-
tar ok segja mér at mæla út í náttúruna, inn í
alsetrs veru utan þrauta sọkum laga ok siða,
nýrra jafnt sem forna. Um nokkurt skeið vit-
ja mín draumfarir um aldraðan ok bitryrtan
kynfróds hrafnfreistaða. Utan lọngum knerri
legvers hvíslar hann fornri ọr óðar. Er hann
sást fylktu eigendr róms jọtna ok mættu honum
með geir ok skarr ok kuta á lofti. Í brúnsteinum
glóðfjálgr sonr Fornjóts.
"Leggi brauzt Leiknar; lamðir Þrívalda;
steypðir Starkeði; stétt of Gjalp dauða."
(Vetrliði Sumarliðason, Lausavísa 1)
"Nam minnigr marga speki
af gọmlum mọnnum, sás goll miðlaði.
Þjóldólfr ór Hvini."
(Poem about Haraldr hárfagri 2)
Miðleggs tveggja daga held ek úr margreftum
fletvargi. Við bjọrgin er liggja til fingramergðar
fjallgylðis hvíta, heyri ek stétt bragar. Hálfblint,
hrumt hangagoð nálgask ok spyr um upphaf
ok endi ættar minnar ok allra ætta họslu jarðar.
Hvernig má svara spurningu er aðeins moldbú-
ar fá svarat á firnindum ok bọlhaugum drauga?
Aftr kominn til viggs veggjar veitisk hæli góðds
hjaldrs at mér. Hann veinar at nú skuli hann rista
ætt mína úr mér. Ek verst ok at endingu færi ek
ennitungl hans aftr til himinboga.
"Varð, þats fylkis fœrðu,
fárverk, bráa merki
- gọr varð heipt - ór hjọrvi
Heimdalls viðir seima."
(Bjarni ...ason, Fragments 1)
"Þoku dregr upp it ýtra;
él festisk it vestra
(mọkkr mun náms) af nøkkvi
(naðbings kominn hingat)."
(Þorleifr jarlsskáld Rauðfeldarson, Jarlsnið 1)
Þegar náir sọkkva nálgask heimþingaðr han-
gi aldraðr ok samtímis koma lýtendr golls frá
þorpi ok líta benloga leka hrævar lækjum heif-
tardraugs er liggr undir ís rauðra randa. Broðir
Vilja ávarpar lýðinn en bersk engin rọdd. Brotnir
eru hangferlar hringa Heimdalls, brotinn er naðr
unda. Ek yfirgef heim nýjan ok elti hinn eineygja
faðmbyggva Friggjar yfir í heim fornan.
English:
After the rays of sun ignite the fire
in the grass, wandering spirits come
down the hands of the white snow and ice and
tell me to speak into the wild, into a world out-
side of the troubles created by laws and rules
of new and old. It is for some time now that I
have dreamt and seen the old and bleak man
outside our village, whispering in old tongues.
But when he was seen, people started to gather
and run towards him, with spears and swords
and knives aloft. And with fires in their eyes.
"You broke the bones of Leikn; you thrashed Þrí-
valdi; you overthrew Starkaðr; you stepped over
the dead Gjálp."
(Vetrliði Sumarliðason, Lausavísa 1)
"The one with a good memory who shared out
gold acquired much wisdom from old men."
(Þjóðólfr ór Hvini, Poem about Haraldr hárfagri 2)
At night, I leave the village. As I approach the
wall of rock leading to the countless fingers of
the white giant above, I hear the sound of ton-
gues. The half-blind, old wanderer approaches
me and asks about the beginning and the end of
my family and all families of this world. But how
can I answer a question that is only known to be
replied to by the dead in the mounts and in the
haunted places of the undead? As I return to the
village, a violent man approaches me. He screams
at me that he wishes to cut my family out of me.
I defend myself and eventually help his eyes to
reunite with the stars.
"A terrible deed came to pass, when trees of gold
stabbed the stars of the eyelashes out of the
sword of Heimdallr of the ruler; [an act of] hatred
was accomplished. "
(Bjarni ...ason, Fragments 1)
"Fog rises up on the outer side; a storm gathers
in the west for some reason; the cloud from the
taking of the adder-bed must have come this way."
(Þorleifr jarlsskáld Rauðfeldarson, Jarlsnið 1)
When the dead begin to sink, the old wanderer
approaches me, but at the same time people come
from the village and see my sword leaking from
the blood of the angry spirit that is now below
the sword. The wanderer speaks to the people
but no voice is heard. Heimdall's hands are bro-
ken, his sword is broken. I leave the world of
the new and follow the lonely wanderer into the
world of the old.
1. Nú er lengstu miskunndir dalreyðar ná hátindi
Nú er lengstu miskunndir dalreyðar ná
hátindi, er geislar einstjọrnunnar ná til
allra kima hjóls jarðar, kaldra ok heitra, skíðlo-
gar allt líf. Stormar glæddir kerlaugum drauga
nálgask frá mọrkum heiðins dóms, þeir hvísla
fyrirspurnum sínum frammi fyrir hásæti mínu
vætta.
"Hroptr, Herblindi ok Herjafọðr,
Hvatmóðr, Hléfreyr, Hveðrungr, Þriði,
Gọllungr, Bileygr ok Geirọlnir,
Váfuðr, Valfọðr, Vingnir, Rọgnir."
(Anonymous Þulur, Óðins nọfn 5)
"Sigtryggr, Jọrmunr, Saðr, Gunnblindi,
Jafnhár, Óski, Jọlfọðr ok Þrór,
Ýrungr, Skilfingr, Óðinn, Tveggi,
Veratýr, Sigþrór, Valgautr ok Yggr."
(Anonymous Þulur, Óðins nọfn 8)
"Flugu hrafnar tveir af Hnikars ọxlum;
Huginn til hanga, en á hræ Muninn."
(Óláfr hvítaskáld Þórðarson, Fragments 4)
"Maðr skyldi þó, moldar,
megja hverr of þegja,
kenniseiðs þótt kunni
kleppdọgg Hôars lọggvar."
(Auðunn illskælda, Lausavísa 1)
"Máni skínn af mœni
moldar hofs of foldir
alla stund, meðan endisk
ævi lands ok sævar.
Veitk félaga fjótum
fróns prýði vel þjóna;
þeim vitu eigi ýtar
auðit lífs né dauða."
(Einarr Skúlason, Lausavísur 13)
Undit grand grundar gjálfrs hverfr á tungls brá ok
sá gamli goði hrafnblóts birtisk ok spyr um líf-
galla hallar allra þeirra spurninga sem stormarnir
kváðu mik fyrr. Þegar bọl dúks nær brúnsteinum
mínum snýr sólin aftr ok ný aftrelding. Nóttin
er liðin ok með henni blíðr glaumvindr Gríðar.
English:
Now that the longest days of heat reach
their summit, now that the rays of the
lone star reach every corner of this world of cold
and heat, all life is ablaze. Storms of signs appro-
aching me from various directions, whispering
me their questions before my throne of spirits.
"Hroptr, Herblindi Herjafọðr, Hvatmóðr, Hléf-
reyr, Hveðrungr, Þriði, Gọllungr, Bileygr and Geirọlnir, Váfuðr, Valfọðr, Vingnir, Rọgnir."
(Anonymous Þulur, Óðins nọfn 5)
"Sigtryggr, Jọrmunr, Saðr, Gunnblindi, Jafnhár, Óski, Jọlfọðr and Þrór, Ýrungr, Skilfingr, Óðinn, Tveggi, Veratýr, Sigþrór, Valgautr and Yggr."
(Anonymous Þulur, Óðins nọfn 8)
"Two ravens flew from Hnikarr's shoulders;
Huginn to the hanged one, and Muninn to the
corpse."
(Óláfr hvítaskáld Þórðarson, Fragments 4)
"Yet each man ought to be able to remain silent,
even though he knows the lump-dew of Hárr's
cask-rim of the testing coalfish of the earth."
(Auðunn illskælda, Lausavísa 1)
"The moon shines from the roof-ridge of the
temple of the ground throughout the countries
all the time while the life of land and sea endures.
I know that the adorner of the earth serves its
swift companion well; people do not know that
one has been allotted neither life nor death."
(Einarr Skúlason, Lausavísur 13)
The storms vanish in the blink of an eye when
I see the old wanderer before me, asking me
through the dance of sparks all the questions that
the storms have brought before me before. As the
wind reaches my eyes, also the sun returns and a
new dawn rises. The night is gone and with her
the storms of wisdom.
2. Nauð greyprs élreka
Nauð greyprs élreka, kalnar Ránardøtr
ok minningar dvínandi glóðar
drekahọfða rífr mik aftr í heim hinna lifandi.
Nálægt bersk mulningshljóð hér í greni grams
Hlíðskjálfar í vættagjọgri hlóðynjar. Ek rís ok
seilisk til hans viðarhásætis útskorinna min-
ninga en sé aðeins úlfgrátt staup hattar sokkit.
"Þann áttak vin verstan
vazt - rọdd en mér baztan
Ála - undirkúlu
óniðraðan þriðja."
(Bragi inn gamli Boddason, Fragments 6)
"Opt kom - jarðar leiptra
es Baldr hniginn skaldi
hollr - at helgu fulli
hrafnásar mér stafna."
(Hofgarða-Refr Gestsson, Poem about Gizurr
gullbrárskáld 2)
Engin vætt bersk frá hyggju túni, enginn steinóðr
galli storðar tréstafa leiðir fætr hans at sveita fol-
dar. Þọginn ríkir. Þọgn sem ek fann síðast þegar
móðir mín hvarf frá þessum heimi. Aldrhniginn
kynfróðr hrafnfreistaðar áræðir at ganga til hin-
na fjọlmọrgu undirheima. Í ọrvæntingu fell ek
til jarðar ok vonask til at leita ráða draumradda
þeirra er ek þekki vel úr náttfọrum mínum. Allt
er hljótt, enginn rómr bersk ok engin ráð veitt
á slíkum glọtunarstað skelfingar. Hve mikit af
hinu forna hefr aldraði arfi Búra tekit með sér,
hve mikit hef ek látit ólært, hversu margir liggja
þeir vegir Geitis sem mér hefr gleymsk at rata?
Nauð greyprs élreka, kalnar Ránardøtr ok min-
ningar dvínandi glóðar drekahọfða fylla draum-
farir mínar, eina sýn mín họrmungarnar sem
fylgdi mér til þessa ógæfustaðar blódhefndar. En-
drkoma lim-Garms rænir gjọrvallri visku minni.
Bróðir Býleists, raddir þínar berask til fjọldans.
En hvar er fóstbróðir þinn þegar vekja þarf lána
til at kveða þat sem heyra þarf á slíkum tómleika-
tímum hrọrnrar ok ótta?
English:
Howling winds, cold daughters of
Rán and memories of dying embers
of dragon heads shake me back to the world of
the living. I hear a crushing sound from nearby,
here within the little shed of the old wanderer
in the spirited caves of the earth. As I stand up
to reach his wooden throne of carved memories,
I only see his head sunken.
"I had that friend, the third one, blameless, worst
to the voice of the Áli of the fishing ground-un-
der-knob, but best to me."
(Bragi inn gamli Boddason, Fragments 6)
"He often brought me to the holy cup of the
raven-god; the Baldr of the lightnings of the land
of prows, loyal to the skald, has fallen."
(Hofgarða-Refr Gestsson, Poem about
Gizurr gullbrárskáld 2)
No spirit blows from his body, no storm of
wooden staves leads his feet to the waterfalls. It
is silent. It is a silence that I felt in me the last
time when my mother left this world. The old
wanderer decided to walk to the many worlds
below. I fall to the ground desparately and try to
seek advice from the voices I know so well from
my dreams. But all is silent, no voice is heard
and no advice is given in this dire place of loss.
How much of the old has the old wanderer ta-
ken with him, how much have I not been able to
learn, how many of the paths have I forgotten to
walk? Howling winds, cold daughters of Rán and memories of dying embers of dragon heads, all I
dream, all I see is the tragedy that came with me
to this dreadful place of turmoil. With the return
of the autumn storms, all wisdom is taken from
me. Loki, your voices are heard by the many. But
where is your blood-brother when the dead need
to be awakened to speak what is needed to be he-
ard in these times of vacuity, of halt and of fear?
3. Ek sneri aftr til golfhǫlkvis fleygra sárelda heiftar
Ek sneri aftr til golfhọlkvis fleygra
sárelda heiftar ok hatrs ok tók við
byli ættmenna minna ok þeirra sem eftir voru
úr trédrekunum þremr. Eftir því sem logar
skýja dvína veita dræmar skerja foldar gjafir oss
nægan forða fyrir komandi hverja nótt húms.
Hvert kvọld kallar fram bitra emjan ok harmak-
vein. At endingu, andvana í verọld kyns þjóðar,
þó á undirheima reiki, heyri ek móðr mína hvís-
la úr fjarska. Frá gọmlu lọndunum þar sem hún
var vegin ok grafin.
"Hljóta múnk, né hlítik,
hertýs, of þat frýju,
fyr ọrþeysi at ausa
austr vín-Gnóðar flaustra."
(Einarr skálaglamm Helgason, Vellekla 5)
English:
I returned to the village of flying
words of anger and hate and took
over the household of my relatives and of the
remaining members of the three wooden dra-
gons. But as the rays of light wane, little harvest
from the sea provide us with enough lifestock
for the approaching season of darkness. I cry
out at night, I scream to be heard. And finally,
while being lifeless in the world of the living
but wandering in the worlds below, I hear my
mother whispering from afar, from the old
lands where she was killed and buried.
"It will fall to me to bale out the bilge-water of
the wine-Gnóð of the army-god for the valiant
racer of ships; I will not endure a reproach on
account of it."
(Einarr skálaglamm Helgason, Vellekla 5)
4. Fyrsta fǫnnin fellr úr hátunnu regns
Fyrsta fọnnin fellr úr hátunnu
regns er bersk frá haustkaldri
hólmrọnd ok aldrhniginn þekkilegr dróttinn
foldar snýr aftr. Hvaðan kom hann? Hvaða snæ-
viþaktar slóðir fetaði hann? Engri hjaldrborg
họrga var spillt, engu skinni var snúit ok ekkert
svarðrisit ben jarðar opnað. Sonr Bestlu birtisk
á ný ok fjọr mitt endrglæðisk af visku hans ok
góðvild. Er sá litli arinkjóli verðr afskekktr
barsk ný blika álfheims á fjóra veggi þessa úr
birki, grjóti ok mold. Miðleggir tveggja daga
fyllask aftr af fleygum sollnum vindi brúðar
bergjarls ok ber með sér sọgr ofan ok neðan,
hinu gamla ok nýja. Þegar ljósit dvín við sjón-
deildarhringinn, hverfr einnig sigrhọfundr. Þó
vex líf at nýju í mínum skjọldum hvarma, blíðum
glaumvindi Gríðar ok hugarlindi. Skọmmu síðar
rennr lífsóp frá þeim unga bjarta sal hjarta
frammi fyrir mér þegar fyrsta mjọllin fellr.
"Ok herþarfir hverfa
(Hlakkar móts) til blóta
(rauðbríkar fremsk rœkir
ríkr) ásmegir (slíku).
Nú grœr jọrð sem áðan;
aptr geirbrúar hapta
auðrýrir lætr ôru
óhryggva vé byggva."
(Einarr skálaglamm Helgason, Vellekla 15)
"Hróðrbarni knák Họrnar
-hlutum dýran grip - stýra
(brandr þyrmr gjalfrs á grandi)
gollvífiðu (hlífar).
Sáðs (berr sínar móðr)
svans unni mér gunnar
fóstrgœðandi Fróða
(Freys nipt bráa driptir)."
(Einarr Skúlason, Øxarflokkr 3)
Skæreygt er þat unga líf. Enn óvarit myrkrinu
ytra. Mér finnsk ek heyra eina ef mýmọrgum
rọddum hins aldraða farmọgnuðrs úr fjarska,
berask með stormhljóðum døtranna í grennd,
með ærum morðum viðar sem steypask niðr frá
hvítan milding hellu, með votu grasi undir niðri,
með auðri ok svartri fold urðar ok kulda. Er ek
reyni at skilja sverð góma fjarar hljóðit út. Enn á
ný stend ek einn á milli fleygra vætta ok reginafla
handan minnar getu. Ek leita skjóls í ungum ljó-
ma fríðrar himintórgu við kvikt meinþjóf markar,
en vonin reynisk mér um megn er ek skrafa við
yldansa Surtsniðja.
English:
As the first snow drifts through
clouds coming in from the oce-
an, the old wanderer reappears. Where did he
come from? What snow-covered trails did he
walk? No mountain was corrupted, no skin
was turned, and no tomb was opened. But the
wanderer reappears, and my spirits embrace
again with his wisdom and kindness. As the
small village becomes isolated, a new light shone
on these four walls of wood, stone and grass.
The nights are filled again with flying tongues
of stories above and below, of old and new. But
when the light fades to the horizon, the wande-
rer also disappears. Yet new life begins to grow
in my eyes, spirit and body. Soon after, a scream
of life escapes this young spirit before me when
the first snow starts to fall again.
"And the sons of the Æsir, beneficial to the people,
turn to the sacrifices; the powerful keeper of the
red board of the meeting of Hlọkk prospers from
this. Now the earth flourishes as before; the we-
alth-diminisher lets the messengers of the spear-
bridge once again inhabit the sanctuaries of the
gods without sorrow."
(Einarr skálaglamm Helgason, Vellekla 15)
"I possess the gold-wrapped glory-child of Họrn;
I received a precious treasure; fire of the surge
rests on the harm of the shield. The provisions-
increaser of the swan of battle gave me Fróði's
seed; Freyr's niece bears the rain of eyelashes of
her mother."
(Einarr Skúlason, Øxarflokkr 3)
This young spirit is bright-sighted. Yet so expo-
sed to the darkness outside. It is as if I hear one
of the many voices of the old wanderer from afar,
from the storming sounds of the daughters ne-
arby, from the howling winds flying down from
the white giant, from the wet grass below, from
the bleak and black ground of stone and coldness.
But as I try to absorb the tongues, no more is he-
ard. As before, I am alone between flying spirits
and forces I am unable to antagonise. I seek shel-
ter with the young shining light near to the flying
sparks but no hope arises as I start to talk to the
warming dances of the kin of Surtr.
5. Ofsaveðrsgnýr ber auma bústaði
Ofsaveðrsgnýr ber auma bústaði milli
ísafjalls-Gauts ok óravíðar grimmdar-
ferjr hauka hyldjúpsins. Riðlogar randvallar
hvítra brynglóða er fylgt eftir með ærandi eldi
þrumu brands. Hagl, regn, bylr. Beinhvít er óh-
lífin glọtun undlinns í sútar þveng leiðar. Sor-
tinn fylgir er harðr, blár bengrefill Surts leggr-
sólginn dólg manna á hol. Grjóti rignir niðr,
eldr blæðir úr undirdjúpum ok aska drekkir
ọllu sem vættrin dregr í aumum bústọðum milli
hvítjọtuns ok víðáttu grimmdarhanda hyldjúp-
sins. Dreyri jarðar mætir hrauni við bústaðina
sem Baldr mætti mistilteini. Allt sem býr milli
hjarns ok dreyra dals, milli elds ok svarta stei-
na, milli faxa jarðar ok skæðra hjọrvinda, hverfr
þegar náir reika jọrðu á ný. Allt verðr ọsku at
bráð áðr en verọldin steypisk í eilífðarríki Rá-
nar. Ọll fornu hlýru orða verða at reyk er Garmr
elris mætir jọrð.
"Þás élreifar ófu
Ægis dœtr ok tœttu
fọls við frost of alnar
fjallgarðs rokur harðar."
(Sveinn, Norðrsetudrápa 1)
Ofan, hliðar ok neðan er konfinn umlukinn vo-
vænlegum brautum borðróins barða, lands ok
hjaldrborg họrga. Um sprungr glittir í aldraða ok
magra móðr. Hún liggr með sinn unga fjọrbjarta
leyg flugreinar svana. Vomar họggva með sárþís-
lum, gífri sóknar ok hrafnvíns hyr gọt á veggi
svo lekr ok heljarmyrkr eilífðarinnar nálgask. Sú
gamla ok óttaslegna vefr sitt unga líf í klæðin sem
eftir liggja. Dyrnar bresta ok gefa undan snjóþun-
gum fjọllum kjóls Ullar, þeim beru beinum. Í
ọrvilnan frýs họg hlaðnorn af skelfingu. Dyrnr
blóðregns bersk henni til heyrnar. Svo hljóðar
hennar feigð, sú sem gjọrvọll ætt hennar heyrir
nú ok um alla tíð. Blóðfryst fellr hún svo họfut
brest á frera.
"Nú hefr stafnval Stefnis
- straumr ferr of hol knerri -
felliveðr af fjalli
fjallrœnt brotit allan.
Heldr kveðk víst, at valdi
- vesa munu bọnd í landi -
- geisar ô með ísi -
ásríki gný slíkum."
(Anonymous Lausavísur, Lausavísur from
Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar in mesta 1)
Hiti fjarar frá lyndis láði í átt at dyrunum. Á ný
birtisk aldraðr hjálmfaldinn snytrir hafta, umva-
finn kaldýrsstormi, hrímþenjum ok rýtingum
firninda. Bróðir Vílis stígr inn fyrir ok tekr um-
vafna glóð rítar himins sér í fang. Sonr Bestlu
heldr úr húsarústunum ok herskari hvítdøtra
stígr til jarðar ok bera konuna brott í vægðarlaust
ríki sitt.
English:
Raoring sounds of wirlwinds drag-
ging on the little dwellings between
the white giant and endless cruel hands of the
abysmal deep. Knives of white swords of fire
followed by earsplitting sounds of hammering
thunder. Storms of hail, storms of rain, storms
of snow, bone-white are the crushing and fier-
ce swords of the depths of winter. Blackness
follows as the flying sword of Surtr finds its
destructive blade through the sleeping giant.
Flying stones from above, floating fire from
deep worlds below and an all-covering ash to
all that lives in the little dwellings between
the white giant and endless cruel hands of
the abysmal deep. Waters meet the lava at the
dwellings as Baldr meets the mistletoe. All of
what is dwelling between the snow and water
between the fire and the black stones, between
the grassy lands and the cutting sword-winds,
all extinguishes when the dead begin to wander
this earth again. All burns to the ground before
the world sinks to the eternal kingdom of Rán.
All tongues of the old turn to smoke as the fire
meets the earth.
"When hard whirlwinds from the white moun-
tain range wove and tore apart the storm-happy
daughters of Ægir, nourished by frost."
(Sveinn, Norðrsetudrápa 1)
From above, from aside, from below, the shed is
surrounded by dreadful spirits of the sea, of the
land and of the mountain. Through cracks, an old
and emaciated mother is seen, lying next to her
young light of brightful spirits. As the haunting
spirits cut with spears, axes and swords holes and
leaks into the walls, the everlasting blackness ap-
proaches the languished old and fearful spirit as
she wraps the young spirit into all the clothing
that is left. When the door impinges to give space
to snow-covered hands of bleak bones, the hor-
ror-stricken woman congeals in terror. She hears
the sound of blood-filled rainclouds falling unto
the earth. It is the sound of her own doom, and
the one her entire family has heard once and fore-
ver. Blood-frozen, she falls and crushes her head
on the snow-covered ground.
"Now destructive weather from the mountain
has smashed the whole stem-steed of Stefnir; the
torrent flows from the mountain over the hull of
the vessel. I declare it rather certainly that divine
power may cause such tumult; the gods must be
in the land; the river is gushing with ice."
(Anonymous Lausavísur, Lausavísur from Óláfs saga
Tryggvasonar in mesta 1)
As the last warmness in her body starts to wan-
der towards the door, the older wanderer appears
again, encircled by swords of storms, by axes of
snow and by swords of the rugged earth. He en-
ters the shed and embraces the covered spirit of
embered light. As he exits the destroyed house,
countless white daughters enter the ground to
take the woman into their merciless realms.
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