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Sif Golden-Hair
She sleeps, Thor’s wife Golden-Gleaming-Hair,
And Loki evil-heart creeps through the black night;
Sif’s hair spreads out glowing, and none more fair.
He steals her bright tresses glimmering there,
Thor raises his thunder, the white-headed light;
Beautiful was Sif Golden-Gleaming-Hair.
Dark elves live underground in jeweled lairs,
Loki begs them to forge tresses glittering bright;
Sif’s hair sunlight-shining, and none more fair.
Loki hides, and Thor searches everywhere;
Elf-spinning shines in the gods’ astonished sight,
Dark elves love Sif Golden-Gleaming-Hair.
Swiftly grows the gold on Sif’s head white and bare,
All Asgard praises from its silver height;
Skillful was that spinning, and none more fair.
Swart elves plucked and wove sun-fire from the air,
Raise up dark elves from their forges roaring white;
Sif again is Golden-Gleaming-Hair,
Gold-spreading in the skies, and none more fair.
© Cameron La Follette
- License: This poem may be freely distributed,
provided
it remains unchanged, including copyright notice and this License -
Image: Romantic hair 1 Brown by ~hellonlegs, used according to artist's license.
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