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.