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~ By Courtesy of Others ~



In the shower of spears the shield´s bane I brandished,
my death-wound dealt by the wound-wolf;
I lay in the grass as Gna came to choose me,
on her steed to Folkvang we flew.

So Vanadis, not Valfather saw I;
the spear-thing´s speakers were waiting,
to ready and arm us for Ragnarok
when Heimdall´s horn calls us all.

Fascinated by Freya´s beauty
I feast all time, and try to court
even Freya herself with her falcon cloak
and her hair like Aegir´s embers.

On her breast wears she bright Brisingamen,
Odhr she mourns with many a tear,
him who fared into foreign lands;
and Hnoss, Freya´s highborn daughter -
I try to woo her as well.

So I sit in Sessrumnir´s Hall
full is my horn of glorious mead;
So I wait with the Vanirs´ fairest
till Heimdall´s horn calls us all.

© Original "Vanadis": Matthias      Der Hof e.V., Mittelalterverein Ketsch
© Translation: Michaela Macha

Poetic form: Ljóđaháttr (Song Meter) except last but one stanza (5 lines instead of 4).

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