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~ Historical & Classical Poetry ~

Frigga on Balder´s death...

But cold is my hope!
Light my consolation.
Whosoe’er pale Hela, queen of death,
Once circleth with her arms,
Returneth no more from Niffl-heim.
As famished wolf in winter’s night
Drinketh the warm heart’s blood—
So doth she gloat—so her cold, clammy lips
Press upon gentle Baldur’s.
Sooner shall the lynx
Resign the prostrate roe,
Than Baldur ’scape from Niffl-heim.
    Yet shall not the worm of despair
Gnaw on my heart, so long
As hope but glimmereth—
Time enow to yield to pale despair
When inexorable destiny
Shall extinguish its last expiring spark.

From Adam Gottlob Oehlenschläger
(1779-1850)     Short Biography of Adam Oehlenschläger

Translation by Grenville Pigott, in "A Manual of Scandinavian Mythology, Containing a
Popular Account of the Two Eddas and of the Religion of Odin" (London, 1839)