Ageless Age with Edge

Ageless Age with Edge
welcomes you twofold

Wednesday 17 December 2008

Larik and Darik, the Oaks of Alps, and Akemantak - Softshoewood

Let the larchlode lithely lead us,
the sootheshoewood pad our footpaces
tree-traced in supple snowshoetimber

LARCH: Old High German *larihha, from Latin larix (genitive laricis), probably a loan-word from an Alpine Gaulish language, corresponding phonologically to Old Celtic *darik- "oak". Darik stems from the same root as TREE itself, derived and generalised from oak-names.

Thus, *Larik- mirrored *Darik- in an ancient Celtic language. Did other tree names sound as -ARIK in alpine communities? Darik, Larik, *Barik (Oak, Larch and Birch?). A sonorant descendant of Darik is Welsh Derw (der-u), "oak", akin to Old English Treow (Tree).

Back-constructed, without the recent loan from German into English (larch < Lärche), the English word larch could have become LARROW in a straight path from Old English.

I eat yarrow under the larrow, and it warms me to my marrow. Yes, precious. I do.

North American tamarack (red larch) is likely an Algonquian loan (1805) (cf. synonymous Hackmatack, 1792, from a source akin to Abenaki Akemantak "supple wood for making snowshoes").

Larches lose their needles. They are conifers, but NOT evergreens. Magnificent.

[Help from http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?l=l, and from Me ]

Thursday 13 November 2008

Good Will

                Yesterday was the day before November full moon. I pedalled with a will for five miles to Goodwill for some useful second-hand goods. Wanted to purchase bodywear and kitchenware. Sleety water splashed under my tires. Rubbish sacks wrapped and guarded my rucksack full of books for reading at work. Furry hat and gloves warmed my head and hands in the cold damp.
                After shopping around Goodwill for some forty minutes, finding good wear and good wares, a long-nosed manager nuzzled up to me (muzzle her!) and said: ‘Sir,’ by which she did not mean to uphold deference but policy maintenance. ‘Sir, no backpacks are allowed in our store. A sign says so right out front for everyone to read as they enter.’ She paused and walked a bit away, then returned, compensating in a motherly tone, ‘I know it’s hard for you to walk down the aisles with that on your back. We don't want you having to do that. Put it behind our front desk  - that way you won’t have to carry it.’
                So this rule existed to help me walk down the aisles? This rule existed to encourage me not to lift unnecessary weights? Better be frank with me and say you don't want me to have the ease of squirreling away your store's possessions in my pouch.
                What she assumed was that I drove a car and could lock up my valuables whenever I went on errands. But my backpack was like my top dresser drawer and survival kit in one. It had everything I needed outside the home.
                Balking at her insincerity, I turned my gaze away from her and ignored her, then casually walked to the cashier lady who says, ‘O, she caught you, did she?’
                I hand her my pack. ‘Yeah. It’s just, my eyes aren't so good.’
                ‘O, I thought you were fine with your backpack. That's why I didn't say anything to you.’
                I walk to the dressing room to try on shirts and slacks. The manager, not content with being insincere, decides to assuage her now guilty conscience and be even more insincere. So she says,
                ‘I bet that's a load off your back!’ As if to say, I bet by now you're glad we have this rule! See how we helped you today by exchanging your free will with our distrust!
                More irked than before, I did not look her way or give any sign I had even heard her. I went into the dressing room and shut the door more firmly than I would usually. At this point, I was feeling physically warm. I took off some of my gear – then stuffed it down into my carry basket. It’s not as if I could put it in my backpack, not without going through Customs again.
                Come check-out time, there was more Good Will to be enjoyed. My two smallest and cheapest items came without price tags. This problem was done away with by allowing me to share some of their work. Knowing her corporate instructions, the cashieress explained to me, ‘We can't sell you these until we get them priced. What we can do is hold them for you.’
                Before explaining what this could mean, she pulled out some papers for me to fill in. There were lots of microscopic blank spaces for all my personal information, and at the end I received a detatched portion with Good Will across it and their contact phone. ‘In two days we'll have these items priced. Just call us first before you come back in!’
                Bicycle five miles back in, you mean.
                It took me another two minutes to find out what this preliminary phone-call was meant for. She finally admitted Yes to the following summary: ‘So you want me to phone you in case you haven't priced them by then?’
                ‘Give us a call’, she says. ‘We wanna make sure you know the price before you commit to buy.’ I redirect an inward snigger into my diaphragm – like repressing a hiccup. I knew each item was worth less than a dollar. Commit to buy. Why do you think I’m here at the cash register with my 10 dollars in cash?
                This wasn't Walmart. This wasn't Best Buy. This wasn't Toys “R” Us. This was a second hand shop to save waste, curb poverty in society, and spread on earth peace, good will toward men. Why shouldn’t the joy multiply one by one and two by two and four by four? I was about to give them some of my money, after all. All that money and joy had trickled down to me. I stood there with an open hand, able to purchase second hand!
                By this time, the long-nosed manager had reappeared and was still trying to get me to look at her and assuage her guilty conscience. Being a merry soul, I made two jokes for her about the items to-be-priced, one of which I called a “thumb massager” since I didn’t know its original function. All was forgiven. Everyone was laughing. It was good to love one's fellow human. It was good to be alive. No one here took Security or Control or Protocol seriously after all.
                Now I’m all done, and all my unbreakable items are stowed and padded in sacks containing free newspaper. I head out in the freezing rain to my Bi-Ice-Ickle, fiddling with my bungee cords to pack everything down. But I stop up short. Where are my two winter hats and my gloves?
                I run back in the store and approach the cashier lady, asking her if she’d seen my winter gear. I dig down in my backpack in front of her, yanking my hat and gloves out of my check-out bag and quickly uncrumpling and scanning my receipt. Three mystery items stare up strangely at me, each labeled Soft Linings. One item, two item, three items, jacking up my bill. I softly explain to her how my own belongings had got mixed up with the check-out items. I point at the receipt, showing her the mystery charges.
                This brought Ms. Manage-Your-Burdens back to the front. She looked over my winter clothing, guessing that even a guy with a backpack wasn’t making all this up. And my Swiss boiled-wool mittens had I’m not from Goodwill written all over them. Why couldn’t she have just left me and my backpack alone? Controlfreaks make double the work for everybody. The whole thing was so absurd I started to laugh. ‘It looks like you just charged me for the clothes off my own back.’ I smiled, making it as forced as I could.
                Instead of dealing with the matter herself, head manager went on to dishonour me and her employees by shoving the whole thing onto us. I was convinced the cashieress was about to be scapegoated - and already I had a rebuttle and rebuke worked out in my head. The underling then returned, shame-faced and head-bowed. I looked at her orangey-dyed hair, thin white face, tired eyes, withered hands. She admitted it was her mistake and the manager started motormouthing instructions at her, ignoring me for several minutes. I interrupted the manager in a firm voice, looking straight at her, ‘It’s an understandable mistake. I’d rather you deal with me face-to-face. I’m about to reload my backpack and have a ways to go home. Are you going to give me money back now please?’
                They fiddled with the till for a long time, printing out several receipts. It was then, and only then, that I received My Goodwill, the truest act of good will in living memory.
                ‘Sir,’ (condescending again), ‘We can offer you store credit but no cash.’ Knowing I'll be back anyway for my to-be-priced items, and that I like Goodwill goods, I bit my tongue. I tried to throw a joke at the long-nosed manager:
                ‘I'll know from now on to throw all my winter gear into my shopping cart whenever I want store credit here!’
                No laughter.
                I looked at her then and said, ‘Some people carry life's load on their backs. It's up to you to lighten the load.’

Winter Comes to Nargothrond

The summer slowly in the sad forest
waned and faded. In the west arose
winds that wandered over warring seas.
Leaves were loosened from labouring boughs:
fallow-gold they fell, and the feet buried
of trees standing tall and naked,
rustling restlessly down roofless aisles,
shifting and drifting.
The shining vessel
of the sailing moon with slender mast,
with shrouds shapen of shimmering flame,
uprose ruddy on the rim of Evening
by the misty wharves on the margin of the world.
With winding horns winter hunted
in the weeping woods, wild and ruthless;
sleet came slashing, and slanting hail
from glowering heaven grey and sunless,
whistling whiplash whirled by tempest.
The floods were freed and fallow waters
sweeping seaward, swollen, angry,
filled with flotsam, foaming, turbid,
passed in tumult. The tempest died.
Frost descended from far mountains
steel-cold and still. Stony-glinting
icehung evening was opened wide,
a dome of crystal over deep silence,
over windless wastes and woods standing
as frozen phantoms under flickering stars.

-written by John Ronald Reuel Tolkien on Oxford paper in 1924 or 1925

Monday 10 November 2008

Monday, November 10, 2008

Of God’s SoS


http://madsiouxson.blogspot.com

Saturday 8 November 2008

The Shadow

Nathan feels a shadow falling on his land and friends.


Responses:
E. S.: Are you meaning the End Times? There is a lot of talk about it.

R. V. H.: That's too bad because I felt some darkness lift from America Tuesday night.

E. H.: Above all shadows rides the sun, and stars forever dwell [quoting Tolkien]

The Kingdom of the Heart

As to E.S.'s comment, I believe the End Times have been gaining in acceleration since 1 a.D., and we turn further and further way from the kingdom inside human hearts. As to R.V.H.'s observation, I respect Obama, but it is for people's hearts and souls I fear, and nations and rulers and powers cannot mend us from the inside out. It is the Keepers of the Garden (the Paleo-Americans) who are our people's lost conscience and nobility. Until we weep with them, we will not be blessed. Until we weep and grow small and humble, we will never have love of family or tribe again. Until their voice is heard, and we stop dehumanizing with controlling programmatic rules and amoral condescensions, and ween us off of usury, excess, sham/counterfeit wealth, and lust for conformity, we will welter in mediocrity, boredom, monotony, internal violence, estrangement, hatred of neighbour, soulless lethargy, and deception about the truth. The People are not a family. The Government is not our friend. We must return with bowed heads and wonder to the Creator.

The Relational Banquet

In response to E.H. the Wise, I too (like you) see and hope beyond all shadow. Human hearts and the bonds of love are eternal - the United States of America is not. And Americans who do not know this are mis-minding and undermining the Annointed One's message. They don't care about morality - they only care about programs and rules written by legalists who have no belief in anything but Safety and Protocol and Control. God is turning his face from us who despoil his son's relational Banquet in the name of Modernism. The collateral damage rains even on those friends and family of mine who sit and wait in patience and diligence. It is time to rise from our lethargy and our unprecedented addictive habits, the sleeping pills of the soul, the joy-killers. The people are swayed by nothing more than "What Everyone Else Is Doing". That isn't enough for me. We must decide what authority we will follow. As for me, I will not follow the Big Voices speaking to Moderns, nor obey the Powers empowering Dehumanization.

******************************************************
And FURTHERmore...! (Here Uncle Dennis ends his 8-hour workday so we can continue the conversation;). Furthermore, there is this to be said: If the People truly saw their insides, were atune with the actual malady (not with mere symptoms), we wouldn't be moping about a 'bad economy'. The fixation on it shows how easily we're deceived. If anything, we should beg for more of the blessing of privation. Are we really so naive about long-term health (as opposed to our short-term mood-stabilizers) that we're going to throw money at our problems?

Friday 7 November 2008

The Crackle of Oratory

I am indebted to Allan V., my neighbour and friend, for the long hours of hospitality in his den during which he brightened my day, preached with conviction, and made his way through the hallways of our house and the streets of Madison to speak to its people with the spur-of-the-moment frankness that took many of them aback. -N. P. Hillman


Allan Mad-I-Siouxson God's SoS of Madison's Sure Fire Raves:


Spoken to a mounted cop: "It's amazing how one of God's most wonderful beasts can bear Satan so well on its back!"

Spoken to more mounted cops: "You ride as if you're part of that horse - I won't say which part."

Spoken to more coppers patrolling Madison Halloween: "Do they pay you extra not to talk?"

Spoken on television during Madison 'Mardi Gras' (Halloween): "We went to the Garden to find the Great Pumpkin, but all that we found was Pumpkin Head." [Review your Charlie Brown....]

Spoken to the wordless, greetingless grim Cop at Peace Park, who told Allan, 'You need to address me as Sir of Officer'. [removing sunglasses off of piercing Sioux eyes and staring at policeman]: "You are our gods. You carry the weapons. It's your job to protect us...and . not . harrass . us. People are in awe of you. You are their protector, and you pretend we don't exist?"

"We're fighting over things so petty and tiny that pretty soon we'll fit through the smallest keyhole into Hell."

"I am Son of Satan
That is Who I am
Here is WHERE I am
You will have to find me...
[walking away now from two listeners.
peers back at them over his shoulder]

If
You
Give
a
Damn. "


Quicklines:

"My friend named Magic puts the Sham in Shamanism."

"I'm just King of the Kooks here. I don't use my authority very often."

"I can't date anyone. Not now. I'm too...I'm too...possessed."

"People say, 'I don't have any time'. But ALL we have is time!"

"I came to a place this nation calls its Heart, but I found none."

"Satan lives in the electrical wires."

"Time is thick right now. It's like we're crawling through it."

"I'm marvellous as well as marble-less."

"I'm lunar-ly, not loonily inclined."

"J has no sense, but there IS a scent with him!"


Longlines:

Spoken of a neighbour who insists that Allan shut his door when said neighbour uses nearby bathroom and tries to lock his own private life away in room and bathroom:
"Arrogance needs no lock."

Spoken TO same neighbour who tried to sniff weed in Allan's room by thrusting his nose across the threshold! : "You like confrontation, don't you? Listen. I. Am. Son. of. Satan", finished off with empathetic rhythmic nods. Neighbour now tolerates the Open Door Policy!

Spoken to housemate who lives one floor below who was flinging baby powder in the air while Allan tried to retrieve and eat food from a microwave on the same floor: "J, don't you think it's time you let me eat some food without your powders and spray in it? From now on, your bike lock is cursed." [J had to find a janitor to cable cut his lock. The combo no longer worked.]

Next day, SOS (Allan) with same neighbour, watching Allan put his hand over the bike lock: "Wait wait wait. Let me put my RIGHT hand upon your lock so I can remove the curse." J says, "Please? Please?!"

Spoken to the CIA in the Phillipines after they warned him not to pay the poor natives selling him shoe polish: "It's a good day to blackmarket then!"

Spoken to Kris Krisofferston in the Philippines when he was on tour with Barbara Streisand, and Allan had stolen Kris' birthday cake to feed it to the natives: "I'm sorry, Kris. I stole your cake so the Filipinos could have some food."

Spoken to drivers who yell at him on his bicycle -- Why don't you stay on the Bicycle Path!!!!!!
"We are ALL on the wrong path, and we must all find a new one". [With confident slow nods and measured enunciation.]

Spoken to one of the four drivers who hit him on foot or cycle in a crosswalk (four times) and then stopped to see if he was alright! "Thank you for coming. I see you had LOTS and LOTS of time to stop and talk to me after you hit me, but no time to slow down enough not to run me over."

Spoken to street evangelists during Halloween after one says to him, "I'll pray for you." : "It is time to pray, for I am here. I am among you."

Uttered to a praetersexual who condescended to him from the audience with the words, 'Do you think you need some help?'-- "Are you going to be my Judas?"

Spoken to local Madison 'Orange Man' (Paul Arthur), who plays his piccalo for the People and never speaks to them: "Sir, I can see you play for the people. You are FOR the people, but you don't seem WITH the people." [SOS shaking his head]. Orange Man, true to form, spoke not a word.

SoS's word to the spirit, Dogman, after Equinox, 2008: " "

Teacher's comment on one of SoS's early report cards: "He gallops well."

N. P. H. : "Hi, I'm 2,000 years old."
SoS: "Hi, good to meet you. I'm dead already."

Thursday 6 November 2008

Defacing Facebook

Allan Warnung VordemTeufel, transported from Facebook and its triteness, but recorded for me and my reverent smiles. -NPH

Allan said: "We went to the Garden to find the Great Pumpkin, but all that we found was Pumpkin Head."

Basic Information
Networks: Madison, WI
Sex: Male
Birthday: January 7, 1952
Political Views: The Kingdom is Here: Put Down Your Weapon
Religious Views: The Snake is in the Garden
I am Gods SOS, Son of Satan (in name only), the harbinger of healing, the guardian of the Garden lost to Adam and Eve.

Personal InformationInterests:
Contraband

Indigenous Americans

The Apocalypse of the Thunderbird

Rahmen Noodles

Not doing my laundry

Rubinesque Women

Casting spells on locks and bolts

Favorite Movies:
Little Big Man, Time Bandits
Favorite Quotations:
"Arrogance needs no lock"

"I can't date anyone. Not now. I'm too...I'm too...possessed."

Spoken to angry drivers of Horses-Without-Souls who yell for cyclists to stay on the bicycle path: "We are ALL riding on the wrong path, and we must all find a new one."

Contact Information

Monday 3 November 2008

My Guard of God's Garden in My Own Home

GodsSOS is come. The hour is here to let the Messiah live within us and let the Lion and Lamb lie together, and cease despoiling the Creator's Garden in the name of God while the Snake hisses in laughter. To America the Fallen: Satan Says Hi.

http://madsiouxson.blogspot.com

-Jo-Nathan the Baptist

Monday 7 July 2008

Win-Driving Wife

Sigrdrífomál, The Lay of Sigrdrífa,
‘Victory-Provoker’

from the body of mytho-poetic verse called Elder Edda,
mainly preserved in Codex Regius (1270-1280),
translated from Old Icelandic
by Nathan Paul Hillman

Sigurðr* rode up to Hindarfjall, the Mountain Behind, and made south for Frankenland. Upon the fell, he saw a large light like a burning fire – its glow glanced into the sky. When he reached it he saw a wall of shields beneath a banner. Sigurðr went into the shield-wall and saw a man lying down in his weapons of war. Before anything else, he took the helm off his head. Then he saw it was a woman. Her corslet clung skin tight, as if grown into her flesh. With Gramr* he sliced straight down her corslet, neck to base and along both arms. Then he peeled it off her. She woke and sat up. She saw Sigurðr and said to him:

1. Sigurðr < *Sigi-warður, ‘Toward Victory’. Cp. English surname Siward.
2. ‘Grim’, Sigurðr’s sword inherited from Óðinn who hilt stuck it in a hall’s tree trunk for the fated man to yank out.


‘What bit my corslet? What broke my sleep?
Who slit from me the blanching chains?’


‘Sigmundr’s son, and Sigurðr’s sword –
used to cut a copse made of carrion,
newly made corpses for corbies.’


‘Long I slept, long was I sleeping,
Long are the woes of the world;
Óðinn ordained I’d have no might
to doff the dozing spells.’


Sigurðr sat, he sought her name.
A mead-filled horn he handed her
to drink a remembrance draught.


'Hail day, hail sons of day!
Hail night and sister of night!
With wrathless eyes
here stare on us,
and win us victory
while we wait.


'Hail Æsir!* Hail Ásynjor!*
Hail the worth of all earth!
Give words and wisdom to us both,
to us two twinned in fame,
and hands of healing while we live.'

1,2. 'gods'; 'goddesses'.


Sigrdrífa she was, a Valkyrja,*
a chooser of the slain.
He heard her tell
a tale of two kings,
Hj
álmgunnarr and Agnarr,
in a fight to the end.

1. 'slain-chooser', a valkyrie. German Walküre, Old English wælcyrige.


Sigrdrífa said:

'For Helm-Gunnarr, hard and old,
Óðinn availed a victory.
Agnarr, brother of
Auða,
welcomed no man nor wight.

'In the fray, Sigrdrífa felled him,
inciting a counter from
Óðinn,
who banned her choice
to choose the slain,
and commanded her to marry.
He stuck her with a slumberthorn.


'For my turn, I told Óðinn
I'd sworn a fierce oath
to wed no man who knew fear.'


Sigrdrífa said to Sigurðr:

'Man-tree of turmoil, I bring you beer
mingled with might and mighty fame.
It's filled with songs, and soothing staves,
with splendid spells, and runes of joy.


'Runes for winning you must learn
if you want to vouchsafe victory

cut them on hilt of hewing sword,
some on blade ridge, some on blade flat,
and invoke
Týr’s name twice.


'You must know ale-runes
if you don't want another's wife
to trick you in trust,
even when you believe her.
Carve them on horn, on your hand's back,
Upon your nails write Need.

'Sign a token over the cup filled up
and beware of danger

Sink a leek in your liquid.
In this way I'll know

No harm will mingle in your mead.

'Rescue-runes you must know
if you desire to save,
and unbind babies
from women's wombs.
Carve them on your palms,
Gird them on your loins,
then pray to D
ísir* to empower them.

1. "Ladies", "Goddesses", an order of female powers bound to the earth and fostering lifecycles.


'Sea-runes you must make
for surety's sake
for ships upon the sea,
for oar-horses on the sound.
Carve them on the prow,
write them on the rudder,
etch them with fire on the oars.
No breaker's so craggy,
No waves are so black
you won't come whole to harbour.

'You must know limb-runes
if you yearn to heal others
and help their wounds.
Cut them on bark,
in the tree trunk's wood,
on limbs leaning east.


'You must master speech-runes,
so none will make feud
for any sorrows felt.
Wind them around,
weave them around,
set them around
the people's court of doom,
the field of full judgment.

'You must know mind-runes
to make all see
you've the keenest mind of men.
Hroptr* conceived them,
cut them and ordered them
from the draught that dropped
from Glory-Gusher's head,
from Hoard-Reaver's horn*.

1. Hroptr =
Óðinn
2. Glory-Gusher and Hoard-Reaver = Hei
ðdraupnir and Hoddrofnir, alternate names for Mímir/Mímr, the god whose wise head floats in Mímir's Well, one of three great wells nourishing the cosmic tree, Yggdrasill. He is all head, and his horn is for drinking the liquid in the well. This liquid includes bark dew dripping down from Yggdrasill and mead emitted from Óðinn's eye (floating in the same well).



Hroptr stood high on the cliff,
bearing Brimir's* sword,
wearing helm on head.
Then M
ímr's head
mouthed the first word,
spoke in wisdom,
told true letters.


MORE TO COME

Sunday 1 June 2008

Weland's Wile

Völundarkviða, The Lay of Völundr
the Elfsmith,

in English named Weland or Wayland

from the body of mytho-poetic verse called Elder Edda,
mainly preserved in Codex Regius (1270-1280),
translated from Old Icelandic
by Nathan Paul Hillman


From the south flew maidens right through Mirkwood,
All-wise girls, their fate to live out;
Maidens from the South spun the dear linen.
They rested and sat on the shore of the sea.


The first of them* Egill took to defend,
a fair maid of mankind inside her bright arms.
Swanwhite* in swan feathers the second was named;
the third* wrapped her arms
round the white neck of Völundr.

1. Ölrún below.
2. Name of Slagfiðr’s bride. His name appears below.
3. Her name is Alvitr (Allwise), also Hervor below.


Seven winters they sat at this,
but in the eighth they pined;
and in the ninth, hard need split them.
The maidens itched for Mirkwood,
the all-wise girls, their fate to live out.


Came there from the hunt, weather-sharp shooter;
Slagfiðr and Egill found the hall bare;
They went out, they went in, they sat down.
East strode Egill toward Ölrún*.
South strode Slagfiðr* toward Swanwhite.

1. <*Ali-runa, 'Alien Secret'. 2. ' Smite-Finn '. Finns (Lapps, Sami) were masters of the woods, the hunt and shamanic magic.


But alone sat Völundr in Wolf-Dales;
He struck gems into the red gold,
He clasped rings around the bast-rope.
Then he awaited his bright lady,
Till she should come to him.


Níðuðr found this out, Lord of the Njárar,
that Völundr sat alone in Wolf-Dales;
Men went at night with stud-nailed corslets –
Their shields glared in the waning moon.


They got off the saddles at the gabled hall,
and walked its length from end to end;
They saw his rings drawn onto bast,
Seven hundred from all that Völundr owned.


And they took them off, and they tried them on –
All save one which they made off with.


Came there from the hunt, weather-sharp shooter,
Völundr, winding back his long way.
He went to braze the brown bear-flesh;
High burnt the boughs of the all-dry fir,
the wind-dried wood before Völundr.


He sat on the bearskin, the Prince of Elves,
counting his rings – he missed one of them!
He thought that Hlöðvér’s daughter* had it –
That she’d come home, the all-wise girl.

1 Völundr’s bride, Alvitr, one of the three swancloaked girls.


He sat for so long that he fell asleep –
and then he woke up, his joy lost;
On his hands he felt heavy bonds,
clinching fetters around his feet.


' Who are the boar-blokes who wrapped me in ropes
and bound me in bast? '


Níðuðr called out, Lord of the Njárar:

‘ How did you, master of Elves,
come by our gold in the Wolf-Dales? ’


‘ No gold was got on Grani’s Road*
and our land’s far from the Rhine;
I mind the time yours and mine were greater,
when safe you and I each sat at home.

1. The road walked upon by Grani, Sigurðr the dragonslayer's horse.
Grani bore the Rhine hoard from the stabbed dragon, Fáfnir ( ' Embracer ')


' Hlöðvér fathered Hlaðguðr and Hervor* ;
Kjárr's daughter was Ölrún, cunning in spells. '

1. Swanwhite and Alvitr, whose magic may perhaps fashion treasure.


The lord’s wife walked the length of the hall,
stood on the floor, lowered her voice:

‘That one’s not tame, that one from the woods.’


King Níðuðr gave Völundr’s own ring
the gold-ring gained from the bast rope –
to Böðvildr, his own daughter.
He himself wielded the sword
which Völundr owned.


Yet the Queen said:

‘He shows his teeth when shown the sword,
when he remembers the ring on Böðvildr.
His eyes glower like a glaring snake;
Snit his knee sinews, the cords of his strength.
Strand him on the island called Seastead. ’


So twas done. His knee-sinews were sliced.
He was set on a lone isle facing the land,
a place named Sea’s Steading.
There he smithied the king all manner of treasure.
No man dared visit save the king himself.


‘ At Níðuð’s loin shines the sword
I skilfully sharpened with cunning
and tempered with whim and ease.
That bright blade is born far from me
– I’ll never see it brought to Völundr’s smithy.


' Now Böðvildr wears my bride’s red ring
– I won’t wait for amends. ’


He always sat, he never slept,
and he smote with the hammer;
He keenly wiled crafts for Níðuðr.


Níðuðr's sons, two boys,
rushed off to espy
the costly trove at Seastead.

They came to his chest, sued for the keys.
The plot was plain when they peered inside.
The boys saw necklaces and peerless things

red gold in make and appearance.

'Come, you two! Come another day!
I'll make sure you're given gold!
Tell no females nor folk of the hall
nor any man that you found me.'

Early in the morning,
the blighters call to each other,
brother to brother: 'Let's go see the rings!'

They came to his chest, sued for the keys.
The plot was plain when they peered inside.

He hewed off the heads of those cubs,
laid their limbs under smithy mud;
the skulls under their scalps
he wrapped in silver, sent to
Níðuðr.

He devised from eyes resplendent stones*
and gave them to
Níðuðr's crafty queen.
From those twosome's teeth
he beat breastpins for
Böðvildr.

1. iarcnasteina, Old English eorcnanst
ānas, whence The Hobbit's Arkenstone of Lonely Mountain. Germanic
*erkan- means any one or all of the following:
'pure', 'genuine', 'resplendent', 'bright', 'golden', 'precious'.



Then
Böðvildr came to praise her ring
which now she'd broken:

'I dare tell no one about this,
no one except for you.'

Völundr spoke:

'I'll make the busted gold all better

much better for your mother to see,
much fairer for your father to find,
nicer for you in the same measure.'

He boozed her with beer*
since he knew better how
till she drowsed down in her seat.
'Now I've paid back for all the pain,
for all the deeds of malice,
for all except one.

1. This scene is depicted on the 8th century
whalebone box (200 years preceding the oral eddaic norse version,
and 500 years before the manuscript of this poem!), the
Frank's Casket now viewable in the British Museum.

'It's well for me', said
Völundr,
'that I don't go away on web-feet,

since Níðuðr's stormers stole them from me.'
Laughing,
Völundr rose to the sky.*
Weeping,
Böðvildr went from the island,
dejected at her lover's and father's wrath.

1. Perhaps on goosewings made for him by
Völundr's brother Egill, as narrated by Þíðreks saga.


Outside stood
Níðuðr's crafty queen,
and she walked inside, the length of the hall;
Resting on the ramparts sat
Völundr:
'
Are you awake, Níðuðr, Lord of the Njárar?'

'I endlessly wake and rarely sleep
since my sons died.
My joy is lost.
My head is ice
– your counsels are cold.
I pine now for parley with
Völundr.

'Tell me
Völundr, Prince of Elves,
what's happened to my healthy cubs?'

'First you must grant me all these oaths:
by ship's side and shield's rim,
by blade of horseback,
by blade of sword

that Völundr's lady
you never molest,
nor kill my conjugal bride,
even when I've a woman you know,
or a baby within your hall.

'Go to the smithy, the one you made

You'll find the bellows stiff with blood.
I hewed off the heads of your cubs,
laid their limbs under smithy mud.

'And
the skulls under their scalps
I wrapped in silver, sent to
Níðuðr.
I devised from eyes resplendent stones
and gave them to
Níðuðr's crafty queen.

'From those twosome's teeth
I beat breastpins for
Böðvildr.
Now walks
Böðvildr bulging with child,
the only daughter of you both.'

'No words you could've spoken
would crush me more.
Nor could I wish,
Völundr,
to deprive you worse.
No man's high enough
to hunt you from his horse,
nor strong enough below
to bow-shoot you down
where you hover on high
and hide in clouds.'

Laughing, Völundr rose to the sky.
Sorrowing,
Níðuðr sat behind.


'Get up, Þakráðr*, best of my thralls!
Ask
Böðvildr, the blond-browed girl,
to wear her fair web
and confide with her father.'

1. 'Counsel of Thanks' ? If so, onomastic meaning merges with plot



'Is it true,
Böðvildr, what they tell me?
Did you and
Völundr sit together,
side by side on the isle?'

'What he told you,
Níðuðr, is true.
Völundr and I sat together,
side by side on the isle,
one awful hour

– we never should have!
I'd no craft to contest him;
I'd no might to resist him.'



THE CHEERY END

Thursday 29 May 2008

Fainly Wearing the Day

" Thus then lived this folk in much plenty and ease of life, though not delicately nor desiring things out of measure. They wrought with their hands and wearied themselves; and they rested from their toil and feasted and were merry: to-morrow was not a burden to them, nor yesterday a thing which they would fain forget: life shamed them not, nor did death make them afraid. "

- The Roots of the Mountains, William Morris, 1889

Smaug Smells a Bold Smiter

' Then Smaug spoke.

"Well, thief! I smell you and I feel your air. I hear your breath. Come along! Help yourself again, there is plenty and to spare!"

But Bilbo was not quite so unlearned in dragon-lore as all that.... "No thank you, O Smaug the Tremendous!" he replied. "I did not come for presents. I only wished to have a look at you and see if you were truly as great as tales say. I did not believe them."

"Do you now?" said the dragon somewhat flattered, even though he did not believe a word of it.

"Truly songs and tales fall utterly short of the reality, O Smaug the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities," replied Bilbo.

"You have nice manners for a thief and a liar," said the dragon. "You seem familiar with my name, but I don't seem to remember smelling you before. Who are you and where do you come from....?"

"....I come from under the hill, and under the hills and over the hills my paths led. And through the air. I am he that walks unseen."

"So I can well believe," said Smaug, " but that is hardly your usual name."

"I am the clue-finder, the web-cutter, the stinging fly. I was chosen for the lucky number."

"Lovely titles!" sneered the dragon. "But lucky numbers don't always come off."

"I am he that buries his friends alive and drowns them and draws them alive again from the water. I came from the end of a bag, but no bag went over me."

"These don't sound so creditable," scoffed Smaug.

"I am the friend of bears and the guest of eagles. I am Ringwinner and Luckwearer; and I am Barrel-rider," went on Bilbo beginning to be pleased with his riddling.

"That's better!" said Smaug. "But don't let your imagination run away with you!" '

-The Hobbit, John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

Tuesday 13 May 2008

VÖLUSPÁ

VÖLUSPÁ
Prophecy of the Seeress (völva)
 
 
from the body of mytho-poetic verse called Elder Edda,
mainly preserved in Codex Regius (1270-1280),
translated from Old Icelandic
by Nathan Paul Hillman
 
 
 
All sacred children, great and small,
children of Heimdallr*, lend your ears.
Father of the Slain*, you desired me to tell  
the tales of beings, farthest back I* know.
1`World-Brightener’, warden on the rainbow bridge to the upperworld.2 Óðinn, a chief divining elitist god;shamanic; lord of those slain while fighting3 the seeress, the poem’s narrator, invoked by Óðinn

I remember Giants, born of yore,
those who nursed me in ancient times;
Nine worlds I remember, nine trollwives,* 
Famous Tree of Fate* below the earth.   
1 íviðjur:  female forest giants
2 mjötviðr:  ‘ fate-dealing tree’, the cosmic axis
When ages were young and Ymir* lived,   
No sand, nor sea, nor cool swell heaved.
Earth and Upheaven, both were unfound,
Grass was nowhere; Gaping Gap yawned.
1 ‘wailer’, ‘howler’; a giant
[From Vafþrúðnismál 31, 33, 21:
Up from Sleet Stream popped venom drops;
it grew and grew, became a giant.*

1 Ymir
Under its armpit grew a girl with a boy, ...
the wise giant’s thigh coupled with thigh,
two legs begat his six-headed son.
 
The earth was formed from Ymir’s flesh
and from his bones the mountains;
sky came from skull of the ice-cold giant,
and from his blood the sea. ]
 
First Burr’s sons* lifted up lands, 
those who shaped the Middle World;
From the South shone the sun on halls of stone,
the soil was sprouted with green shoots.
1 Óðinn, Lóðurr and Hœnir (belong to a god family named Æsir)
Sun, path-fellow of Moon,
threw her right arm over the sky-rim;
Sun did not know what hall she had,
stars did not know what place they had,
Moon did not know what might he had.
 
Then all the Powers came, sacrosanct gods,
to their doom-seats to take council:
They gave names to Night, and to her offspring,
called one Morning, another Midday,
Forenoon and Afternoon, to count the years.
 
The Æsir* met on Splendor Plain;*  
Bloodshrines and temples, they built them high.
They founded forges and wrought wealth,
shaped tongs, fashioned tools.
1 a particular family of gods; sing. Ás 
2 Iðavöll
Glad they played at games in meadow,
not a bit of gold they lacked,
until three came, all main powerful,
maidens from Jötunheimr* of giant kin. 
1 Giant Realm
 
She* remembers the world’s first war,   
when Gullveig* was propped with spears, 
and they burned her in High One’s*  hall.  
Three times burned her, the three times born one,
often, unseldom, though she lives yet.
1 the seeress herself2 'Gold Liqueur’; likely the name of the narrator herself, the völva (seeress)3 name for Óðinn
Wherever she visited, they named her Clear One;* 
the fairspoken seeress, she cast wand-spells;
She entranced wherever she could, entangled the charm-led mind.
She was sweetest smell to evil wives.
1 Heiðr (which puns with ‘heath’ and ‘heathen’ in Old Norse)
Then all the Powers came, sacrosanct gods,
to their doom-seats to decide
whether Æsir should hand over tributes,
or all the gods offer and feast for peace.

Óðinn flung his spear, hurled it into the host,
and war wore on, the first in the world.
The stronghold's shield shattered, defense of the gods,The war-boding Vanir* reared up on the plain.
1 rival tribe of gods (probably includes Gullveig); associated with  regenerative cycles
of birth and death, mirrored by soil, sea, water cycles, esp sexual union.


Then three came home, strong and loving,
gods from the host of Æsir;
they found on the earth, little able,
Askr and Embla*, devoid of destiny.
1 `Ash’ (masculine) and ‘ Elm’ (feminine); two trees, pre-humans 

They had not breath, they had not soul,
Blood nor voice, nor blushing face;
Óðinn gave breath, Hœnir gave soul,
Lóðurr gave blood and blushing face.  
An ash I know, named Yggdrasill*, 
a towering tree, libated with loam;
It trickles with white dews which wet the dale,
Green it stands always over Fate’s Well*. 
1 'Steed of Awe’, or ‘Steed of Yggr, Óðinn’2 Urðar brunni, ‘Well of Weird (Urð)’, of ‘That Which Must Be’. From verða, ‘to become’
From the well come three allwise maidens,
up from the sea-encircled tree*;   
they write out runes on sticks;
One’s named Urð*, the second Verðandi*,  
the third is Skuld*;
They laid laws, allowed life
or destined death, foretold the lot of humankind.

1 þollr, specifically ‘fir tree’, here a poetic word for 'tree'
2,3,4 ’Has Come to Be’, ‘Is Coming to Be’, ‘Obliged to Be’

She* knows the ear of Heimdallr’s hid  
beneath the holy light-loving tree.
She sees the pledge, the eye of Valföðr,* 
libating the tree in loamy streams*.
Did you already know?
1 the seeress2 `Father of the Slain’, Óðinn; so called since his hall, Valhöll, fills with his chosen
reborn dead.
3 One-eyed Óðinn's deposited eye spills mead which washes and waters the World Tree.

She sat out alone when the Agéd One* came;     
the Dread among gods looked in his own eye:
‘Why do you ask me, why do you tempt me?
I fully know, Óðinn, where you hid your eye* –
in the famous Well of Mímir.'*  
Every morning Mímir drinks mead
from the eye of Valföðr – Did you already know?
1 Óðinn2 Óðinn gave his eye to Mímir in exchange for wisdom. His eye emits nourishing honeywine.3 Mímir = ‘mindful’, ‘ponderer’; a giant or a Vanr; he exists as a dismembered wise head.

Herföðr* provided rings and neckrings    
to get her* sage tales and divining wands; 
Wide wide went her sight into each world.
1 `Father of the Host’, Óðinn2 the seeress's


She saw Valkyries* come from afar,   
geared up to ride to the Gothic clan;
Skuld held one shield, Skögul another,
Gunnr, Hildr, Göndul and Geirskögul;* 
Now are tallied the handmaids of Herjan,* 
Valkyries rigged to ride the earth.
1 valkyrjur, ‘choosers of the slain’ (on behalf of Óðinn & Freyja)2 `obligation’, ‘shaker’, ‘war’, ‘battle’, ‘wand-wielder’, ‘spear-shaker’3 `the Harrier’, Óðinn


I* saw Baldr, the bloodied god,       
the child of Óðinn, his fate hidden.
Higher than the plain; slender, lovely,
grew a mistletoe.
1 the seeress
It* seemed slender, but the stalk was grief, 
a dangerous dart, heaved by Höðr*.         
Baldr’s brother* was timely born –  
Óðinn’s son, one-night old, went avenging.
1 the mistletoe2 Baldr’s blind brother3 Baldr's other (not blind) brother, Váli below. Váli is a half-brother.

He* never washed hands, never combed his head, 
till Baldr’s dead foe* he bore to the pyre.
But Frigg* she wept in Halls of Fen           
for Valhöll’s woe – Did you already know?
1 Baldr's unblind half-brother, Váli2 Baldr's blind brother, Höðr
3 Baldr's mother, who loses her dearest son (Baldr) as well as her other son, Höðr.
A bloodfeud extending to bloodbound brothers marks the end of the world.
Váli* twisted hard cords from innards, 
vaunted with fetters, mercilessly made.* 
1 son of Óðinn by the giantess Rindr and therefore Baldr's half-brother. Baldr's parents
are two gods - Óðinn and Frigg. Óðinn's father, however, is a giant.2 made for Loki, Baldr’s ráðbani, slayer by plot. Höðr is the handbani, slayer by hand.

She saw under grove of steaming springs
a baleful body in Loki’s likeness.
There Sigyn* sits, she’s not a bit happy 
about her husband*. Did you already know?  
1`Victory Girlfriend’
2 Loki. From Snorri's Prose Edda we know that Váli bound Loki with cords made from the
innards of Loki's own son. A viper drips venom down onto Loki, as Sigyn catches the
poison in a bowl to protect him.
Then all the Powers came, sacrosanct gods,
to their doom-seats to discover
who had stirred with poison all the air,
and given Óðr’s girl* to Giants. 
1 the goddess lover of Óðr, ‘ frenzy ’, 'seized inspiration' , is Freyja, the Nordic Venus,
here defruited and made barren by cold titans; she was
born into the Æsir, but her father
is a Vanr.

Þórr alone thrashed back, swollen with rage,
he seldom sits when he hears the like;
oaths were voided, words and promises,
all solemn speech once said between them.
 
A river from the East, Slíðr* its name, 
rives with knives and falls with swords.
1 `cruel’, ‘sharp’ 
The hall of gold of Sindri’s people*        
stands in the North on Dark-of-Moon Plains;
On Never Cooling another stood,
a beerhall of Giants, Brimir* it’s called. 
1 dwarves2 ‘Brim’, ‘Sea’
Upon Corpse Strand, far from the sun,
she saw a hall – its doors open North;
Its roof shafts dripped with venom drops –
That hall’s wound with spines of serpents.
 
She saw their wading viscous streams
perjured men and murderers,
the beguiler of another’s bosom love;
There Níðhöggr* sucks on bodies died off                     
a wolf tears into men – Did you already know?
1 'Hateful Striker', an underworld serpent 
The old woman* squatted in Ironwood
and suckled there Fenrir’s* children;
Among them stands out one
in troll’s raiment, the moon’s raper.* 
1 a troll-crone or female giant. the 'squatting' is probably the upright stance for giving
birth, utilising gravity and conforming to scandinavian custom2 the bound cosmic wolf, child of Loki; destined to swallow Óðinn, who is
Loki’s blood-brother3 possibly Hati (‘Hate’), an astral wolf who will one day eat the moon

He* binges on blood of death-bound men,      
reddens with gore the houses of gods;
the sun shines black in following summers,
the weather all bitter – Did you already know?
1 the moon's raper
The troll-crone’s herdsman, happy Eggþér,* 
sat on the gravemound and struck his harp;
Near him crowed in Screeking Wood
the bright red cock called Fjalarr.* 
1 ‘Sword Servant’2`Concealer’ (why or of what, I don’t know)
Goldencomb* crowed above the Æsir,    
rouses the heroes of the Father of Hosts;* 
Another screeches beneath the earth,
an ash-red cock at the halls of Hel.* 

1 Gullinkambi, an upperworld rooster2 Herjaföðr, Óðinn3 the underworld goddess with her lodge in Niflheim, 'Mist World'; her hall is
sometimes named Hel
 
[Refrain]
Garmr* bays loudly before Gnipa Caves,  
the fetter will break and the Ravener* run free; 
Her vast wit lengthens, yet further she* grasps
the crushing fall of the Victory-Gods.

1 ‘Rag’, a huge cosmic hound2 freki, a metaphorical name for Wolf of Fenrir, bound by a magic fetter
3 the seeress
 
Brother and brother will fight to death,
Cousin and cousin will cut their ties,
It’s hard on the earth, heavy whoredom;
Axe age, sword age, shields are split,
wind age, wolf age, then world tumbles –
not one person will spare the other.
 
Mímr’s* sons cast spells, 
The Fate-Tree* flames up  
next to the ancient Gjallarhorn;* 
His horn is aloft:  Loud blows Heimdallr,
Óðinn speaks with Mímr’s head.
1 Mímr probably same as Mímir2 Yggdrasill, the cosmic axis tree3 `Echo Horn’, Heimdallr’s horn
 
The upright ash of Yggdrasill* shudders, 
the old tree groans; the giant slips loose.
Dread fills all on the paths to Hel
before Surtr’s fire* engulfs the tree. 
1 `Steed of  Awe’, the cosmic tree; drasill = ‘steed’, Yggr = ‘Awe’,`Terror’, also
an Óðinn name.2 Surtar sefi, ‘Soul of Surtr’, kenning for fire. Surtr means ‘black’, ‘swart’; volcanic
black fire giant; Tolkien's Balrog

Garmr bays loudly before Gnipa Caves,
the fetter will break and the Ravener run free;                          
Her vast wit lengthens, yet further she grasps
the crushing fall of the Victory-Gods.

Hrymr* rolls from the East, raises his shield,
Whelming Worm* uncoils in giant wrath,
He beats the waves, the eagle screams,
Pale-Beak flays corpses, Nail-Ship* cuts loose.
1`rime’, ‘frost’; maybe ‘ decrepit ’ ; a giant2 Jörmungandr, ‘Enormous Withy’, or ‘ Stupendous Gaper’, the ocean serpent encircling the world3 composed of toe and finger nails

Out of the East come Muspell’s* band,
A ship on water - Loki steers it!
All the troll rogues sail with the Ravener;*
their journey mate is Byleist’s brother.*
1 identified with Surtr; name may imply ‘perdition’; Old High German Muspilli = ‘apocalypse’; here it is probably a place name, referring to the southernmost Fire that met northernmost Ice in the beginning of time. 2 probably Fenrir, maybe Loki himself3 Loki

What’s with the Gods? What’s with the Elves?
All Giant Realm’s aroar, the Æsir assemble;
the Dwarves moan at doors of stone,
the cliff-rock kings – Did you already know?

From the South comes Surtr with branches’ bane*,
his blade mirrors fire, the Sun of Slaughter Gods.*
Boulder crags snap, and hags stride,
Humans walk the Hel-way; sky splits open.
1 sviga lævi; ‘fire’2 Sun of Slaughter Gods is a kenning for 'fire', but who are the 'Slaughter Gods' who wield this fire? Are they fire giants?
Note that Surtr's sword blade MIRRORS the red glint of their flame.

Hlín* is hit with a second grief
when Óðinn goes to fight the Wolf*,
and bright Freyr, Beli’s* bane, flies at Surtr.*
There Frigg’s dear heart* will die.
1 'protectoress'; goddess Frigg, Baldr’s mother2 Fenrir; Fenris-Úlfr, 'Fenris-Wolf
3 ' roarer '; ' fire '; a giant which weaponless Freyr once killed with a stag's antlers.
4 Freyr, Freyja's brother, is the chief norse fertility god, the antithesis of Surtr. Freyr kills him, but dies doing it.
5 her husband, Óðinn, who is swallowed by the Wolf.


So Víðarr*, mighty son of Victory Óðinn,
advances on the Beast of Slaughter.*
He screws open the mouth of Hveðrung’s son*,
sets sword to heart – his father’s avenged.
1 Acc. to Snorri (mediaeval editor), he's the son of Óðinn by the giantess Gríð2 valdýr, Fenrir (cosmic wolf)3 Fenrir

[From Vafþrúðnismál 53:
The Wolf will swallow the Father of Men*.
Víðarr will repay this pain;
He’ll cleave the cold jowls of the Wolf in battle.* ]
1 Aldaföðr (father of the age/life of humankind), Óðinn
2 From other sources (Snorri's Prose Edda), we know that
Víðarr jams the jaws open with a
shoe made of all dead men's shoe leather, then torques the jaws to break face and neck.


The Earth’s Girdler* stretches up to the air,
the jaws of the grim worm gape on high.
Óðinn’s son* will meet the serpent,

Víðarr’s kin* will kill that criminal.
1 referring to the World Serpent, the sea-snake encircling the world; also called Jörmungandr
2
Þórr, ‘Thunder’; defends gods against male giants; his father is giantess Jörð, ‘Earth’
3 = Þórr, Víðarr’s half-brother

Then comes Óðinn’s famous son, Hlóðynjar’s* boy,
to wallop the Worm;
Middle World’s warden smites in fury,
everyone must abandon home;
Fjörgynn’s* boy barely staggers
nine steps back from that snake
whose name is never flouted.
1 Þórr’s mother, also known as Jörð, 'Earth'. The boy is Þórr.
2 Þórr’s mother, also known as Jörð. Fjörgynn linguistically evokes an
indo-european lightning and mountain-top god.


Sun turns black, earth seeps into sea,
the white stars wheel from the sky;
Vapour hisses against vital fire,
the heat licks high against heaven itself.


Garmr bays loudly before Gnipa Caves,
the fetter will break and the Ravener run free;                          
Her vast wit lengthens, yet further she grasps
the crushing fall of the Victory-Gods.
She sees come up a second time,
Earth from sea, ever green;
waterfalls fall, eagle flies over,
the one who hunts fish on the mountain.
Æsir find one other on Splendor Plain,
speak of the awful earth-wrapping snake,*
and there recall their seats of power
and ancient runes of the Fimbul God.*
1 World Serpent
2 ‘Numinous God’ ; either Óðinn (who wields the runes), or the Judeo-Christian deity

Later they* found, golden in grass,
the magical chessmen they’d cherished of old.
1 the reborn gods

Unsown fields will flower,
All bad will be bettered, Baldr* will come.
Höðr* and Baldr, gods of the slain,
will settle down on triumphant turf.
In the home of the gods they live in peace.
1 Baldr, innocent in shameful death, is a pre-Christ, messianic in merging traditions
2 Baldr's blind brother, who killed Baldr on accident when Loki guided his hand.
In a happy game to test Baldr's invulnerability, the blind brother hurled a mistletoe spear.

There Hœnir will choose from prophecy sticks;
the two brothers’ sons* will inhabit the air,
dwell in the wide world of the wind.
Did you already know?
1 sons of Höðr and Baldr

She sees there a hall on Fire-Lee*
fairer than the sun, thatched with gold.
Faithful followers there will dwell,
and through life’s days live in bliss.
1 Gimlé, ‘ flame of protection’

Then from above the Mighty One* comes
to the judgment place of the gods.
Powerful, he rules over all.
1 probably the Judeo-Christian God

There comes the dark dragon,
flying from Fells of the Waning Moon.
Níðhöggr*, gleaming serpent,
carries corpses under wing, flies over the plain –
Now she* will sink.
1 `Malice-Cutter`:  serpent in Niflheim (Mist-World, underworld) who gnaws on roots of the cosmic tree
2 the seeress will sink back down to the place
Óðinn called her from