THE
POETIC EDDA
TRANSLATED FROM THE ICELANDIC
WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES
BY
HENRY ADAMS BELLOWS
TWO VOLUMES IN ONE
NEW YORK
THE AMERICAN-SCANDINAVIAN FOUNDATION
LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
1923
This series of Scandinavian Classics is published by The American-
Scandinavian Foundation in the belief that greater familiarity with
the chief literary monuments of the North will help Americans to a
better understanding of Scandinavians, and thus serve to stimulate
their sympathetic coöperation to good ends.
To George Lyman Kittredge
SCANDINAVIAN CLASSICS
VOLUMES XXI AND XXII
THE POETIC EDDA
ESTABLISHED BY NIELS POULSON
THIS VOLUME IS ENDOWED IN PART BY CHARLES S. PETERSON OF CHICAGO
CONTENTS [1]
General Introduction xi
Lays of the Gods
Voluspo 1
Hovamol 28
Vafthruthnismol 68
Grimnismol 84
Skirnismol 107
Harbarthsljoth 121
Hymiskvitha 138
Lokasenna 151
Thrymskvitha 174
Alvissmol 183
Baldrs Draumar 195
Rigsthula 201
Hyndluljoth 217
Svipdagsmol 234
Lays of the Heroes
Völundarkvitha 252
Helgakvitha Hjorvarthssonar 269
Helgakvitha Hundingsbana I 290
Helgakvitha Hundingsbana II 309
Fra Dautha Sinfjotla 332
Gripisspo 337
Reginsmol 356
Fafnismol 370
Sigrdrifumol 386
Brot af Sigurtharkvithu 402
Guthrunarkvitha I 411
Sigurtharkvitha en Skamma 420
Helreith Brynhildar 442
Drap Niflunga 447
Guthrunarkvitha II, en Forna 450
Guthrunarkvitha III 465
Oddrunargratr 469
Atlakvitha en Grönlenzka 480
Atlamol en Grönlenzku 499
Guthrunarhvot 536
Hamthesmol 545
NOTE
[1] For the phonetic spellings of the proper names see the Pronouncing
Index.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
The General Introduction mentions many of the scholars to whose work
this translation owes a special debt. Particular reference, however,
should here be made to the late William Henry Schofield, Professor of
Comparative Literature in Harvard University and President of The
American-Scandinavian Foundation, under whose guidance this translation
was begun; to Henry Goddard Leach, for many years Secretary of The
American-Scandinavian Foundation, and to William Witherle Lawrence,
Professor of English in Columbia University and Chairman of the
Foundation’s Committee on Publications, for their assistance with the
manuscript and the proofs; and to Hanna Astrup Larsen, the Foundation’s
literary secretary, for her efficient management of the complex details
of publication.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
There is scarcely any literary work of great importance which has been
less readily available for the general reader, or even for the serious
student of literature, than the Poetic Edda. Translations have been far
from numerous, and only in Germany has the complete work of translation
been done in the full light of recent scholarship. In English the only
versions were long the conspicuously inadequate one made by Thorpe, and
published about half a century ago, and the unsatisfactory prose
translations in Vigfusson and Powell’s Corpus Poeticum Boreale,
reprinted in the Norrœna collection. An excellent translation of the
poems dealing with the gods, in verse and with critical and explanatory
notes, made by Olive Bray, was, however, published by the Viking Club
of London in 1908. In French there exist only partial translations,
chief among them being those made by Bergmann many years ago. Among the
seven or eight German versions, those by the Brothers Grimm and by Karl
Simrock, which had considerable historical importance because of their
influence on nineteenth century German literature and art, and
particularly on the work of Richard Wagner, have been largely
superseded by Hugo Gering’s admirable translation, published in 1892,
and by the recent two-volume rendering by Genzmer, with excellent notes
by Andreas Heusler, 1914–1920. There are competent translations in both
Norwegian and Swedish. The lack of any complete and adequately
annotated English rendering in metrical form, based on a critical text,
and profiting by the cumulative labors of such scholars as Mogk,
Vigfusson, Finnur Jonsson, Grundtvig, Bugge, Gislason, Hildebrand,
Lüning, Sweet, Niedner, Ettmüller, Müllenhoff, Edzardi, B. M. Olsen,
Sievers, Sijmons, Detter, Heinzel, Falk, Neckel, Heusler, and Gering,
has kept this extraordinary work practically out of the reach of those
who have had neither time nor inclination to master the intricacies of
the original Old Norse.
On the importance of the material contained in the Poetic Edda it is
here needless to dwell at any length. We have inherited the Germanic
traditions in our very speech, and the Poetic Edda is the original
storehouse of Germanic mythology. It is, indeed, in many ways the
greatest literary monument preserved to us out of the antiquity of the
kindred races which we call Germanic. Moreover, it has a literary value
altogether apart from its historical significance. The mythological
poems include, in the Voluspo, one of the vastest conceptions of the
creation and ultimate destruction of the world ever crystallized in
literary form; in parts of the Hovamol, a collection of wise counsels
that can bear comparison with most of the Biblical Book of Proverbs; in
the Lokasenna, a comedy none the less full of vivid characterization
because its humor is often broad; and in the Thrymskvitha, one of the
finest ballads in the world. The hero poems give us, in its oldest and
most vivid extant form, the story of Sigurth, Brynhild, and Atli, the
Norse parallel to the German Nibelungenlied. The Poetic Edda is not
only of great interest to the student of antiquity; it is a collection
including some of the most remarkable poems which have been preserved
to us from the period before the pen and the printing-press replaced
the poet-singer and oral tradition. It is above all else the desire to
make better known the dramatic force, the vivid and often tremendous
imagery, and the superb conceptions embodied in these poems which has
called forth the present translation.
WHAT IS THE POETIC EDDA?
Even if the poems of the so-called Edda were not so significant and
intrinsically so valuable, the long series of scholarly struggles which
have been going on over them for the better part of three centuries
would in itself give them a peculiar interest. Their history is
strangely mysterious. We do not know who composed them, or when or
where they were composed; we are by no means sure who collected them or
when he did so; finally, we are not absolutely certain as to what an
“Edda” is, and the best guess at the meaning of the word renders its
application to this collection of poems more or less misleading.
A brief review of the chief facts in the history of the Poetic Edda
will explain why this uncertainty has persisted. Preserved in various
manuscripts of the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries is a prose
work consisting of a very extensive collection of mythological stories,
an explanation of the important figures and tropes of Norse poetic
diction,—the poetry of the Icelandic and Norwegian skalds was
appallingly complex in this respect,—and a treatise on metrics. This
work, clearly a handbook for poets, was commonly known as the “Edda” of
Snorri Sturluson, for at the head of the copy of it in the Uppsalabok,
a manuscript written presumably some fifty or sixty years after
Snorri’s death, which was in 1241, we find: “This book is called Edda,
which Snorri Sturluson composed.” This work, well known as the Prose
Edda, Snorri’s Edda or the Younger Edda, has recently been made
available to readers of English in the admirable translation by Arthur
G. Brodeur, published by the American-Scandinavian Foundation in 1916.
Icelandic tradition, however, persisted in ascribing either this Edda
or one resembling it to Snorri’s much earlier compatriot, Sæmund the
Wise (1056–1133). When, early in the seventeenth century, the learned
Arngrimur Jonsson proved to everyone’s satisfaction that Snorri and
nobody else must have been responsible for the work in question, the
next thing to determine was what, if anything, Sæmund had done of the
same kind. The nature of Snorri’s book gave a clue. In the mythological
stories related a number of poems were quoted, and as these and other
poems were to all appearances Snorri’s chief sources of information, it
was assumed that Sæmund must have written or compiled a verse
Edda—whatever an “Edda” might be—on which Snorri’s work was largely
based.
So matters stood when, in 1643, Brynjolfur Sveinsson, Bishop of
Skalholt, discovered a manuscript, clearly written as early as 1300,
containing twenty-nine poems, complete or fragmentary, and some of them
with the very lines and stanzas used by Snorri. Great was the joy of
the scholars, for here, of course, must be at least a part of the
long-sought Edda of Sæmund the Wise. Thus the good bishop promptly
labeled his find, and as Sæmund’s Edda, the Elder Edda or the Poetic
Edda it has been known to this day.
This precious manuscript, now in the Royal Library in Copenhagen, and
known as the Codex Regius (R2365), has been the basis for all published
editions of the Eddic poems. A few poems of similar character found
elsewhere have subsequently been added to the collection, until now
most editions include, as in this translation, a total of thirty-four.
A shorter manuscript now in the Arnamagnæan collection in Copenhagen
(AM748), contains fragmentary or complete versions of six of the poems
in the Codex Regius, and one other, Baldrs Draumar, not found in that
collection. Four other poems (Rigsthula, Hyndluljoth, Grougaldr and
Fjolsvinnsmol, the last two here combined under the title of
Svipdagsmol), from various manuscripts, so closely resemble in
subject-matter and style the poems in the Codex Regius that they have
been included by most editors in the collection. Finally, Snorri’s Edda
contains one complete poem, the Grottasongr, which many editors have
added to the poetic collection; it is, however, not included in this
translation, as an admirable English version of it is available in Mr.
Brodeur’s rendering of Snorri’s work.
From all this it is evident that the Poetic Edda, as we now know it, is
no definite and plainly limited work, but rather a more or less
haphazard collection of separate poems, dealing either with Norse
mythology or with hero-cycles unrelated to the traditional history of
greater Scandinavia or Iceland. How many other similar poems, now lost,
may have existed in such collections as were current in Iceland in the
later twelfth and thirteenth centuries we cannot know, though it is
evident that some poems of this type are missing. We can say only that
thirty-four poems have been preserved, twenty-nine of them in a single
manuscript collection, which differ considerably in subject-matter and
style from all the rest of extant Old Norse poetry, and these we group
together as the Poetic Edda.
But what does the word “Edda” mean? Various guesses have been made. An
early assumption was that the word somehow meant “Poetics,” which
fitted Snorri’s treatise to a nicety, but which, in addition to the
lack of philological evidence to support this interpretation, could by
no stretch of scholarly subtlety be made appropriate to the collection
of poems. Jacob Grimm ingeniously identified the word with the word
“edda” used in one of the poems, the Rigsthula, where, rather
conjecturally, it means “great-grandmother.” The word exists in this
sense nowhere else in Norse literature, and Grimm’s suggestion of
“Tales of a Grandmother,” though at one time it found wide acceptance,
was grotesquely inappropriate to either the prose or the verse work.
At last Eirikr Magnusson hit on what appears the likeliest solution of
the puzzle: that “Edda” is simply the genitive form of the proper name
“Oddi.” Oddi was a settlement in the southwest of Iceland, certainly
the home of Snorri Sturluson for many years, and, traditionally at
least, also the home of Sæmund the Wise. That Snorri’s work should have
been called “The Book of Oddi” is altogether reasonable, for such a
method of naming books was common—witness the “Book of the Flat Island”
and other early manuscripts. That Sæmund may also have written or
compiled another “Oddi-Book” is perfectly possible, and that tradition
should have said he did so is entirely natural.
It is, however, an open question whether or not Sæmund had anything to
do with making the collection, or any part of it, now known as the
Poetic Edda, for of course the seventeenth-century assignment of the
work to him is negligible. We can say only that he may have made some
such compilation, for he was a diligent student of Icelandic tradition
and history, and was famed throughout the North for his learning. But
otherwise no trace of his works survives, and as he was educated in
Paris, it is probable that he wrote rather in Latin than in the
vernacular.
All that is reasonably certain is that by the middle or last of the
twelfth century there existed in Iceland one or more written
collections of Old Norse mythological and heroic poems, that the Codex
Regius, a copy made a hundred years or so later, represents at least a
considerable part of one of these, and that the collection of
thirty-four poems which we now know as the Poetic or Elder Edda is
practically all that has come down to us of Old Norse poetry of this
type. Anything more is largely guesswork, and both the name of the
compiler and the meaning of the title “Edda” are conjectural.
THE ORIGIN OF THE EDDIC POEMS
There is even less agreement about the birthplace, authorship and date
of the Eddic poems themselves than about the nature of the existing
collection. Clearly the poems were the work of many different men,
living in different periods; clearly, too, most of them existed in oral
tradition for generations before they were first committed to writing.
In general the mythological poems are strongly heathen in character,
and as Christianity became generally accepted throughout Norway and
Iceland early in the eleventh century, it is altogether likely that
most of the poems dealing with the Norse gods antedate the year 1000.
On the other hand, Hoffory, Finnur Jonsson and others have shown pretty
conclusively from linguistic evidence that these poems cannot have
assumed anything like their present form before the ninth century. As
for the poems belonging to the hero cycles, one or two of them appear
to be as late as 1100, but most of them clearly belong to the hundred
years following 950. It is a fairly safe guess that the years between
900 and 1050 saw the majority of the Eddic poems put into shape, but it
must be remembered that many changes took place during the long
subsequent period of oral transmission, and also that many of the
legends, both mythological and heroic, on which the poems were based,
certainly existed in Norway, and quite possibly in verse form, long
before the year 900. In considering such poems it is essential to
forget the present mode of composition, whereby a poet at once fixes
his thought and his style by means of writing, and to remember that for
at least two centuries, and possibly much longer, the correct
transmission of many of the Eddic poems depended solely on accurate
hearing and retentive memory.
As to the origin of the legends on which the poems are based, the whole
question, at least so far as the stories of the gods are concerned, is
much too complex for discussion here. How much of the actual narrative
material of the mythological lays is properly to be called Scandinavian
is a matter for students of comparative mythology to guess at. The
tales underlying the heroic lays are clearly of foreign origin: the
Helgi story comes from Denmark, and that of Völund from Germany, as
also the great mass of traditions centering around Sigurth (Siegfried),
Brynhild, the sons of Gjuki, Atli (Attila), and Jormunrek (Ermanarich).
The introductory notes to the various poems deal with the more
important of these questions of origin.
Of the men who composed these poems,—“wrote” is obviously the wrong
word,—we know absolutely nothing, save that some of them must have been
literary artists with a high degree of conscious skill. The Eddic poems
are “folk-poetry,”—whatever that may be,—only in the sense that some of
them strongly reflect racial feelings and beliefs; they are anything
but crude or primitive in workmanship, and they show that not only the
poets themselves, but also many of their hearers, must have made a
careful study of the art of poetry.
Where the poems were composed is almost equally uncertain. The claims
of Norway have been extensively advanced, but the great literary
activity of Iceland after the settlement of the island by Norwegian
emigrants late in the ninth century makes the theory of an Icelandic
source for most of the poems plausible. The two Atli lays, with what
authority we do not know, bear in the Codex Regius the superscription
“the Greenland poem,” and internal evidence indicates that this
statement is correct. Certainly in one poem, the Rigsthula, and
probably in several others, there are marks of Celtic influence. During
a considerable part of the ninth and tenth centuries, Scandinavians
were active in Ireland and in most of the western islands inhabited by
branches of the Celtic race. Some scholars claim nearly all the Eddic
poems for these “Western Isles,” in sharp distinction from Iceland;
their arguments are commented on in the introductory note to the
Rigsthula. However, as Iceland early came to be the true center of this
Scandinavian island world, it may be said that most of the evidence
concerning the birthplace of the Eddic poems in anything like their
present form points in that direction, and certainly it was in Iceland
that they were chiefly preserved.
THE EDDA AND OLD NORSE LITERATURE
Within the proper limits of an introduction it would be impossible to
give any adequate summary of the history and literature with which the
Eddic poems are indissolubly connected, but a mere mention of a few of
the salient facts may be of some service to those who are unfamiliar
with the subject. Old Norse literature covers approximately the period
between 850 and 1300. During the first part of that period occurred the
great wanderings of the Scandinavian peoples, and particularly the
Norwegians. A convenient date to remember is that of the sea-fight of
Hafrsfjord, 872, when Harald the Fair-Haired broke the power of the
independent Norwegian nobles, and made himself overlord of nearly all
the country. Many of the defeated nobles fled overseas, where inviting
refuges had been found for them by earlier wanderers and
plunder-seeking raiders. This was the time of the inroads of the
dreaded Northmen in France, and in 885 Hrolf Gangr (Rollo) laid siege
to Paris itself. Many Norwegians went to Ireland, where their
compatriots had already built Dublin, and where they remained in
control of most of the island till Brian Boru shattered their power at
the battle of Clontarf in 1014.
Of all the migrations, however, the most important were those to
Iceland. Here grew up an active civilization, fostered by absolute
independence and by remoteness from the wars which wracked Norway, yet
kept from degenerating into provincialism by the roving life of the
people, which brought them constantly in contact with the culture of
the South. Christianity, introduced throughout the Norse world about
the year 1000, brought with it the stability of learning, and the
Icelanders became not only the makers but also the students and
recorders of history.
The years between 875 and 1100 were the great spontaneous period of
oral literature. Most of the military and political leaders were also
poets, and they composed a mass of lyric poetry concerning the
authorship of which we know a good deal, and much of which has been
preserved. Narrative prose also flourished, for the Icelander had a
passion for story-telling and story-hearing. After 1100 came the day of
the writers. These sagamen collected the material that for generations
had passed from mouth to mouth, and gave it permanent form in writing.
The greatest bulk of what we now have of Old Norse literature,—and the
published part of it makes a formidable library,—originated thus in the
earlier period before the introduction of writing, and was put into
final shape by the scholars, most of them Icelanders, of the hundred
years following 1150.
After 1250 came a rapid and tragic decline. Iceland lost its
independence, becoming a Norwegian province. Later Norway too fell
under alien rule, a Swede ascending the Norwegian throne in 1320.
Pestilence and famine laid waste the whole North; volcanic disturbances
worked havoc in Iceland. Literature did not quite die, but it fell upon
evil days; for the vigorous native narratives and heroic poems of the
older period were substituted translations of French romances. The
poets wrote mostly doggerel; the prose writers were devoid of national
or racial inspiration.
The mass of literature thus collected and written down largely between
1150 and 1250 may be roughly divided into four groups. The greatest in
volume is made up of the sagas: narratives mainly in prose, ranging all
the way from authentic history of the Norwegian kings and the early
Icelandic settlements to fairy-tales. Embodied in the sagas is found
the material composing the second group: the skaldic poetry, a vast
collection of songs of praise, triumph, love, lamentation, and so on,
almost uniformly characterized by an appalling complexity of figurative
language. There is no absolute line to be drawn between the poetry of
the skalds and the poems of the Edda, which we may call the third
group; but in addition to the remarkable artificiality of style which
marks the skaldic poetry, and which is seldom found in the poems of the
Edda, the skalds dealt almost exclusively with their own emotions,
whereas the Eddic poems are quite impersonal. Finally, there is the
fourth group, made up of didactic works, religious and legal treatises,
and so on, studies which originated chiefly in the later period of
learned activity.
PRESERVATION OF THE EDDIC POEMS
Most of the poems of the Poetic Edda have unquestionably reached us in
rather bad shape. During the long period of oral transmission they
suffered all sorts of interpolations, omissions and changes, and some
of them, as they now stand, are a bewildering hodge-podge of
little-related fragments. To some extent the diligent twelfth century
compiler to whom we owe the Codex Regius—Sæmund or another—was himself
doubtless responsible for the patchwork process, often supplemented by
narrative prose notes of his own; but in the days before written
records existed, it was easy to lose stanzas and longer passages from
their context, and equally easy to interpolate them where they did not
by any means belong. Some few of the poems, however, appear to be
virtually complete and unified as we now have them.
Under such circumstances it is clear that the establishment of a
satisfactory text is a matter of the utmost difficulty. As the basis
for this translation I have used the text prepared by Karl Hildebrand
(1876) and revised by Hugo Gering (1904). Textual emendation has,
however, been so extensive in every edition of the Edda, and has
depended so much on the theories of the editor, that I have also made
extensive use of many other editions, notably those by Finnur Jonsson,
Neckel, Sijmons, and Detter and Heinzel, together with numerous
commentaries. The condition of the text in both the principal codices
is such that no great reliance can be placed on the accuracy of the
copyists, and frequently two editions will differ fundamentally as to
their readings of a given passage or even of an entire poem. For this
reason, and because guesswork necessarily plays so large a part in any
edition or translation of the Eddic poems, I have risked overloading
the pages with textual notes in order to show, as nearly as possible,
the exact state of the original together with all the more significant
emendations. I have done this particularly in the case of
transpositions, many of which appear absolutely necessary, and in the
indication of passages which appear to be interpolations.
THE VERSE-FORMS OF THE EDDIC POEMS
The many problems connected with the verse-forms found in the Eddic
poems have been analyzed in great detail by Sievers, Neckel, and
others. The three verse-forms exemplified in the poems need only a
brief comment here, however, in order to make clear the method used in
this translation. All of these forms group the lines normally in
four-line stanzas. In the so-called Fornyrthislag (“Old Verse”), for
convenience sometimes referred to in the notes as four-four measure,
these lines have all the same structure, each line being sharply
divided by a cæsural pause into two half-lines, and each half-line
having two accented syllables and two (sometimes three) unaccented
ones. The two half-lines forming a complete line are bound together by
the alliteration, or more properly initial-rhyme, of three (or two) of
the accented syllables. The following is an example of the
Fornyrthislag stanza, the accented syllables being in italics:
Vreiþr vas Vingþórr, | es vaknaþi
ok síns hamars | of saknaþi;
skegg nam hrista, | skǫr nam dýja,
réþ Jarþar burr | umb at þreifask.
In the second form, the Ljothahattr (“Song Measure”), the first and
third line of each stanza are as just described, but the second and
fourth are shorter, have no cæsural pause, have three accented
syllables, and regularly two initial-rhymed accented syllables, for
which reason I have occasionally referred to Ljothahattr as four-three
measure. The following is an example:
Ar skal rísa | sás annars vill
fé eþa fjǫr hafa;
liggjandi ulfr | sjaldan láer of getr
né sofandi maþr sigr.
In the third and least commonly used form, the Malahattr (“Speech
Measure”), a younger verse-form than either of the other two, each line
of the four-line stanza is divided into two half-lines by a cæsural
pause, each half-line having two accented syllables and three
(sometimes four) unaccented ones; the initial rhyme is as in the
Fornyrthislag. The following is an example:
Horsk vas húsfreyja, | hugþi at mannviti,
lag heyrþi orþa, | hvat á laun máeltu;
þá vas vant vitri, | vildi þeim hjalpa:
skyldu of sáe sigla, | en sjǫlf né kvamskat.
A poem in Fornyrthislag is normally entitled -kvitha (Thrymskvitha,
Guthrunarkvitha, etc.), which for convenience I have rendered as “lay,”
while a poem in Ljothahattr is entitled -mol (Grimnismol, Skirnismol,
etc.), which I have rendered as “ballad.” It is difficult to find any
distinction other than metrical between the two terms, although it is
clear that one originally existed.
Variations frequently appear in all three kinds of verse, and these I
have attempted to indicate through the rhythm of the translation. In
order to preserve so far as possible the effect of the Eddic verse, I
have adhered, in making the English version, to certain of the
fundamental rules governing the Norse line and stanza formations. The
number of lines to each stanza conforms to what seems the best guess as
to the original, and I have consistently retained the number of
accented syllables. In translating from a highly inflected language
into one depending largely on the use of subsidiary words, it has,
however, been necessary to employ considerable freedom as to the number
of unaccented syllables in a line. The initial-rhyme is generally
confined to two accented syllables in each line. As in the original,
all initial vowels are allowed to rhyme interchangeably, but I have
disregarded the rule which lets certain groups of consonants rhyme only
with themselves (e.g., I have allowed initial s or st to rhyme with sk
or sl). In general, I have sought to preserve the effect of the
original form whenever possible without an undue sacrifice of accuracy.
For purposes of comparison, the translations of the three stanzas just
given are here included:
Fornyrthislag:
Wild was Vingthor | when he awoke,
And when his mighty | hammer he missed;
He shook his beard, | his hair was bristling,
To groping set | the son of Jorth.
Ljothahattr:
He must early go forth | who fain the blood
Or the goods of another would get;
The wolf that lies idle | shall win little meat,
Or the sleeping man success.
Malahattr:
Wise was the woman, | she fain would use wisdom,
She saw well what meant | all they said in secret;
From her heart it was hid | how help she might render,
The sea they should sail, | while herself she should go not.
PROPER NAMES
The forms in which the proper names appear in this translation will
undoubtedly perplex and annoy those who have become accustomed to one
or another of the current methods of anglicising old Norse names. The
nominative ending -r it has seemed best to omit after consonants,
although it has been retained after vowels; in Baldr the final -r is a
part of the stem and is of course retained. I have rendered the Norse þ
by “th” throughout, instead of spasmodically by “d,” as in many texts:
e.g., Othin instead of Odin. For the Norse ø I have used its
equivalent, “ö,” e.g., Völund; for the ǫ I have used “o” and not “a,”
e.g., Voluspo, not Valuspa or Voluspa. To avoid confusion with accents
the long vowel marks of the Icelandic are consistently omitted, as
likewise in modern Icelandic proper names. The index at the end of the
book indicates the pronunciation in each case.
CONCLUSION
That this translation may be of some value to those who can read the
poems of the Edda in the original language I earnestly hope. Still more
do I wish that it may lead a few who hitherto have given little thought
to the Old Norse language and literature to master the tongue for
themselves. But far above either of these I place the hope that this
English version may give to some, who have known little of the ancient
traditions of what is after all their own race, a clearer insight into
the glories of that extraordinary past, and that I may through this
medium be able to bring to others a small part of the delight which I
myself have found in the poems of the Poetic Edda.
PART I
THE POETIC EDDA
VOLUME I
LAYS OF THE GODS
VOLUSPO
THE WISE-WOMAN’S PROPHECY
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
At the beginning of the collection in the Codex Regius stands the
Voluspo, the most famous and important, as it is likewise the most
debated, of all the Eddic poems. Another version of it is found in a
huge miscellaneous compilation of about the year 1300, the Hauksbok,
and many stanzas are included in the Prose Edda of Snorri Sturluson.
The order of the stanzas in the Hauksbok version differs materially
from that in the Codex Regius, and in the published editions many
experiments have been attempted in further rearrangements. On the
whole, however, and allowing for certain interpolations, the order of
the stanzas in the Codex Regius seems more logical than any of the
wholesale “improvements” which have been undertaken.
The general plan of the Voluspo is fairly clear. Othin, chief of the
gods, always conscious of impending disaster and eager for knowledge,
calls on a certain “Volva,” or wise-woman, presumably bidding her rise
from the grave. She first tells him of the past, of the creation of the
world, the beginning of years, the origin of the dwarfs (at this point
there is a clearly interpolated catalogue of dwarfs’ names, stanzas
10–16), of the first man and woman, of the world-ash Yggdrasil, and of
the first war, between the gods and the Vanir, or, in Anglicized form,
the Wanes. Then, in stanzas 27–29, as a further proof of her wisdom,
she discloses some of Othin’s own secrets and the details of his search
for knowledge. Rewarded by Othin for what she has thus far told (stanza
30), she then turns to the real prophesy, the disclosure of the final
destruction of the gods. This final battle, in which fire and flood
overwhelm heaven and earth as the gods fight with their enemies, is the
great fact in Norse mythology; the phrase describing it, ragna rök,
“the fate of the gods,” has become familiar, by confusion with the word
rökkr, “twilight,” in the German Götterdämmerung. The wise-woman tells
of the Valkyries who bring the slain warriors to support Othin and the
other gods in the battle, of the slaying of Baldr, best and fairest of
the gods, through the wiles of Loki, of the enemies of the gods, of the
summons to battle on both sides, and of the mighty struggle, till Othin
is slain, and “fire leaps high about heaven itself” (stanzas 31–58).
But this is not all. A new and beautiful world is to rise on the ruins
of the old; Baldr comes back, and “fields unsowed bear ripened fruit”
(stanzas 59–66).
This final passage, in particular, has caused wide differences of
opinion as to the date and character of the poem. That the poet was
heathen and not Christian seems almost beyond dispute; there is an
intensity and vividness in almost every stanza which no archaizing
Christian could possibly have achieved. On the other hand, the
evidences of Christian influence are sufficiently striking to outweigh
the arguments of Finnur Jonsson, Müllenhoff and others who maintain
that the Voluspo is purely a product of heathendom. The roving Norsemen
of the tenth century, very few of whom had as yet accepted
Christianity, were nevertheless in close contact with Celtic races
which had already been converted, and in many ways the Celtic influence
was strongly felt. It seems likely, then, that the Voluspo was the work
of a poet living chiefly in Iceland, though possibly in the “Western
Isles,” in the middle of the tenth century, a vigorous believer in the
old gods, and yet with an imagination active enough to be touched by
the vague tales of a different religion emanating from his neighbor
Celts.
How much the poem was altered during the two hundred years between its
composition and its first being committed to writing is largely a
matter of guesswork, but, allowing for such an obvious interpolation as
the catalogue of dwarfs, and for occasional lesser errors, it seems
quite needless to assume such great changes as many editors do. The
poem was certainly not composed to tell a story with which its early
hearers were quite familiar; the lack of continuity which baffles
modern readers presumably did not trouble them in the least. It is, in
effect, a series of gigantic pictures, put into words with a directness
and sureness which bespeak the poet of genius. It is only after the
reader, with the help of the many notes, has familiarized himself with
the names and incidents involved that he can begin to understand the
effect which this magnificent poem must have produced on those who not
only understood but believed it.
1. Hearing I ask | from the holy races,
From Heimdall’s sons, | both high and low;
Thou wilt, Valfather, | that well I relate
Old tales I remember | of men long ago.
2. I remember yet | the giants of yore,
Who gave me bread | in the days gone by;
Nine worlds I knew, | the nine in the tree
With mighty roots | beneath the mold.
3. Of old was the age | when Ymir lived;
Sea nor cool waves | nor sand there were;
Earth had not been, | nor heaven above,
But a yawning gap, | and grass nowhere.
4. Then Bur’s sons lifted | the level land,
Mithgarth the mighty | there they made;
The sun from the south | warmed the stones of earth,
And green was the ground | with growing leeks.
5. The sun, the sister | of the moon, from the south
Her right hand cast | over heaven’s rim;
No knowledge she had | where her home should be,
The moon knew not | what might was his,
The stars knew not | where their stations were.
6. Then sought the gods | their assembly-seats,
The holy ones, | and council held;
Names then gave they | to noon and twilight,
Morning they named, | and the waning moon,
Night and evening, | the years to number.
7. At Ithavoll met | the mighty gods,
Shrines and temples | they timbered high;
Forges they set, | and they smithied ore,
Tongs they wrought, | and tools they fashioned.
8. In their dwellings at peace | they played at tables,
Of gold no lack | did the gods then know,—
Till thither came up | giant-maids three,
Huge of might, | out of Jotunheim.
9. Then sought the gods | their assembly-seats,
The holy ones, | and council held,
To find who should raise | the race of dwarfs
Out of Brimir’s blood | and the legs of Blain.
10. There was Motsognir | the mightiest made
Of all the dwarfs, | and Durin next;
Many a likeness | of men they made,
The dwarfs in the earth, | as Durin said.
11. Nyi and Nithi, | Northri and Suthri,
Austri and Vestri, | Althjof, Dvalin,
Nar and Nain, | Niping, Dain,
Bifur, Bofur, | Bombur, Nori,
An and Onar, | Ai, Mjothvitnir.
12. Vigg and Gandalf, | Vindalf, Thrain,
Thekk and Thorin, | Thror, Vit and Lit,
Nyr and Nyrath,— | now have I told—
Regin and Rathsvith— | the list aright.
13. Fili, Kili, | Fundin, Nali,
Heptifili, | Hannar, Sviur,
Frar, Hornbori, | Fræg and Loni,
Aurvang, Jari, | Eikinskjaldi.
14. The race of the dwarfs | in Dvalin’s throng
Down to Lofar | the list must I tell;
The rocks they left, | and through wet lands
They sought a home | in the fields of sand.
15. There were Draupnir | and Dolgthrasir,
Hor, Haugspori, | Hlevang, Gloin,
Dori, Ori, | Duf, Andvari,
Skirfir, Virfir, | Skafith, Ai.
16. Alf and Yngvi, | Eikinskjaldi,
Fjalar and Frosti, | Fith and Ginnar;
So for all time | shall the tale be known,
The list of all | the forbears of Lofar.
17. Then from the throng | did three come forth,
From the home of the gods, | the mighty and gracious;
Two without fate | on the land they found,
Ask and Embla, | empty of might.
18. Soul they had not, | sense they had not,
Heat nor motion, | nor goodly hue;
Soul gave Othin, | sense gave Hönir,
Heat gave Lothur | and goodly hue.
19. An ash I know, | Yggdrasil its name,
With water white | is the great tree wet;
Thence come the dews | that fall in the dales,
Green by Urth’s well | does it ever grow.
20. Thence come the maidens | mighty in wisdom,
Three from the dwelling | down ’neath the tree;
Urth is one named, | Verthandi the next,—
On the wood they scored,— | and Skuld the third.
Laws they made there, | and life allotted
To the sons of men, | and set their fates.
21. The war I remember, | the first in the world,
When the gods with spears | had smitten Gollveig,
And in the hall | of Hor had burned her,—
Three times burned, | and three times born,
Oft and again, | yet ever she lives.
22. Heith they named her | who sought their home,
The wide-seeing witch, | in magic wise;
Minds she bewitched | that were moved by her magic,
To evil women | a joy she was.
23. On the host his spear | did Othin hurl,
Then in the world | did war first come;
The wall that girdled | the gods was broken,
And the field by the warlike | Wanes was trodden.
24. Then sought the gods | their assembly-seats,
The holy ones, | and council held,
Whether the gods | should tribute give,
Or to all alike | should worship belong.
25. Then sought the gods | their assembly-seats,
The holy ones, | and council held,
To find who with venom | the air had filled,
Or had given Oth’s bride | to the giants’ brood.
26. In swelling rage | then rose up Thor,—
Seldom he sits | when he such things hears,—
And the oaths were broken, | the words and bonds,
The mighty pledges | between them made.
27. I know of the horn | of Heimdall, hidden
Under the high-reaching | holy tree;
On it there pours | from Valfather’s pledge
A mighty stream: | would you know yet more?
28. Alone I sat | when the Old One sought me,
The terror of gods, | and gazed in mine eyes:
“What hast thou to ask? | why comest thou hither?
Othin, I know | where thine eye is hidden.”
29. I know where Othin’s | eye is hidden,
Deep in the wide-famed | well of Mimir;
Mead from the pledge | of Othin each morn
Does Mimir drink: | would you know yet more?
30. Necklaces had I | and rings from Heerfather,
Wise was my speech | and my magic wisdom;
. . . . . . . . . .
Widely I saw | over all the worlds.
31. On all sides saw I | Valkyries assemble,
Ready to ride | to the ranks of the gods;
Skuld bore the shield, | and Skogul rode next,
Guth, Hild, Gondul, | and Geirskogul.
Of Herjan’s maidens | the list have ye heard,
Valkyries ready | to ride o’er the earth.
32. I saw for Baldr, | the bleeding god,
The son of Othin, | his destiny set:
Famous and fair | in the lofty fields,
Full grown in strength | the mistletoe stood.
33. From the branch which seemed | so slender and fair
Came a harmful shaft | that Hoth should hurl;
But the brother of Baldr | was born ere long,
And one night old | fought Othin’s son.
34. His hands he washed not, | his hair he combed not,
Till he bore to the bale-blaze | Baldr’s foe.
But in Fensalir | did Frigg weep sore
For Valhall’s need: | would you know yet more?
35. One did I see | in the wet woods bound,
A lover of ill, | and to Loki like;
By his side does Sigyn | sit, nor is glad
To see her mate: | would you know yet more?
36. From the east there pours | through poisoned vales
With swords and daggers | the river Slith.
. . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . .
37. Northward a hall | in Nithavellir
Of gold there rose | for Sindri’s race;
And in Okolnir | another stood,
Where the giant Brimir | his beer-hall had.
38. A hall I saw, | far from the sun,
On Nastrond it stands, | and the doors face north;
Venom drops | through the smoke-vent down,
For around the walls | do serpents wind.
39. I saw there wading | through rivers wild
Treacherous men | and murderers too,
And workers of ill | with the wives of men;
There Nithhogg sucked | the blood of the slain,
And the wolf tore men; | would you know yet more?
40. The giantess old | in Ironwood sat,
In the east, and bore | the brood of Fenrir;
Among these one | in monster’s guise
Was soon to steal | the sun from the sky.
41. There feeds he full | on the flesh of the dead,
And the home of the gods | he reddens with gore;
Dark grows the sun, | and in summer soon
Come mighty storms: | would you know yet more?
42. On a hill there sat, | and smote on his harp,
Eggther the joyous, | the giants’ warder;
Above him the cock | in the bird-wood crowed,
Fair and red | did Fjalar stand.
43. Then to the gods | crowed Gollinkambi,
He wakes the heroes | in Othin’s hall;
And beneath the earth | does another crow,
The rust-red bird | at the bars of Hel.
44. Now Garm howls loud | before Gnipahellir,
The fetters will burst, | and the wolf run free;
Much do I know, | and more can see
Of the fate of the gods, | the mighty in fight.
45. Brothers shall fight | and fell each other,
And sisters’ sons | shall kinship stain;
Hard is it on earth, | with mighty whoredom;
Axe-time, sword-time, | shields are sundered,
Wind-time, wolf-time, | ere the world falls;
Nor ever shall men | each other spare.
46. Fast move the sons | of Mim, and fate
Is heard in the note | of the Gjallarhorn;
Loud blows Heimdall, | the horn is aloft,
In fear quake all | who on Hel-roads are.
47. Yggdrasil shakes, | and shiver on high
The ancient limbs, | and the giant is loose;
To the head of Mim | does Othin give heed,
But the kinsman of Surt | shall slay him soon.
48. How fare the gods? | how fare the elves?
All Jotunheim groans, | the gods are at council;
Loud roar the dwarfs | by the doors of stone,
The masters of the rocks: | would you know yet more?
49. Now Garm howls loud | before Gnipahellir,
The fetters will burst, | and the wolf run free;
Much do I know, | and more can see
Of the fate of the gods, | the mighty in fight.
50. From the east comes Hrym | with shield held high;
In giant-wrath | does the serpent writhe;
O’er the waves he twists, | and the tawny eagle
Gnaws corpses screaming; | Naglfar is loose.
51. O’er the sea from the north | there sails a ship
With the people of Hel, | at the helm stands Loki;
After the wolf | do wild men follow,
And with them the brother | of Byleist goes.
52. Surt fares from the south | with the scourge of branches,
The sun of the battle-gods | shone from his sword;
The crags are sundered, | the giant-women sink,
The dead throng Hel-way, | and heaven is cloven.
53. Now comes to Hlin | yet another hurt,
When Othin fares | to fight with the wolf,
And Beli’s fair slayer | seeks out Surt,
For there must fall | the joy of Frigg.
54. Then comes Sigfather’s | mighty son,
Vithar, to fight | with the foaming wolf;
In the giant’s son | does he thrust his sword
Full to the heart: | his father is avenged.
55. Hither there comes | the son of Hlothyn,
The bright snake gapes | to heaven above;
. . . . . . . . . .
Against the serpent | goes Othin’s son.
56. In anger smites | the warder of earth,—
Forth from their homes | must all men flee;—
Nine paces fares | the son of Fjorgyn,
And, slain by the serpent, | fearless he sinks.
57. The sun turns black, | earth sinks in the sea,
The hot stars down | from heaven are whirled;
Fierce grows the steam | and the life-feeding flame,
Till fire leaps high | about heaven itself.
58. Now Garm howls loud | before Gnipahellir,
The fetters will burst, | and the wolf run free;
Much do I know, | and more can see
Of the fate of the gods, | the mighty in fight.
59. Now do I see | the earth anew
Rise all green | from the waves again;
The cataracts fall, | and the eagle flies,
And fish he catches | beneath the cliffs.
60. The gods in Ithavoll | meet together,
Of the terrible girdler | of earth they talk,
And the mighty past | they call to mind,
And the ancient runes | of the Ruler of Gods.
61. In wondrous beauty | once again
Shall the golden tables | stand mid the grass,
Which the gods had owned | in the days of old,
. . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . .
62. Then fields unsowed | bear ripened fruit,
All ills grow better, | and Baldr comes back;
Baldr and Hoth dwell | in Hropt’s battle-hall,
And the mighty gods: | would you know yet more?
63. Then Hönir wins | the prophetic wand,
. . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . .
And the sons of the brothers | of Tveggi abide
In Vindheim now: | would you know yet more?
64. More fair than the sun, | a hall I see,
Roofed with gold, | on Gimle it stands;
There shall the righteous | rulers dwell,
And happiness ever | there shall they have.
65. There comes on high, | all power to hold,
A mighty lord, | all lands he rules.
. . . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . . .
66. From below the dragon | dark comes forth,
Nithhogg flying | from Nithafjoll;
The bodies of men | on his wings he bears,
The serpent bright: | but now must I sink.
NOTES
1. A few editors, following Bugge, in an effort to clarify the poem,
place stanzas 22, 28 and 30 before stanzas 1–20, but the arrangement in
both manuscripts, followed here, seems logical. In stanza 1 the Volva,
or wise-woman, called upon by Othin, answers him and demands a hearing.
Evidently she belongs to the race of the giants (cf. stanza 2), and
thus speaks to Othin unwillingly, being compelled to do so by his magic
power. Holy: omitted in Regius; the phrase “holy races” probably means
little more than mankind in general. Heimdall: the watchman of the
gods; cf. stanza 46 and note. Why mankind should be referred to as
Heimdall’s sons is uncertain, and the phrase has caused much
perplexity. Heimdall seems to have had various attributes, and in the
Rigsthula, wherein a certain Rig appears as the ancestor of the three
great classes of men, a fourteenth century annotator identifies Rig
with Heimdall, on what authority we do not know, for the Rig of the
poem seems much more like Othin (cf. Rigsthula, introductory prose and
note). Valfather (“Father of the Slain”): Othin, chief of the gods, so
called because the slain warriors were brought to him at Valhall (“Hall
of the Slain”) by the Valkyries (“Choosers of the Slain”).
2. Nine worlds: the worlds of the gods (Asgarth), of the Wanes
(Vanaheim, cf. stanza 21 and note), of the elves (Alfheim), of men
(Mithgarth), of the giants (Jotunheim), of fire (Muspellsheim, cf.
stanza 47 and note), of the dark elves (Svartalfaheim), of the dead
(Niflheim), and presumably of the dwarfs (perhaps Nithavellir, cf.
stanza 37 and note, but the ninth world is uncertain). The tree: the
world-ash Yggdrasil, symbolizing the universe; cf. Grimnismol, 29–35
and notes, wherein Yggdrasil is described at length.
3. Ymir: the giant out of whose body the gods made the world; cf.
Vafthruthnismol, 21. In this stanza as quoted in Snorri’s Edda the
first line runs: “Of old was the age | ere aught there was.”
Yawning gap: this phrase, “Ginnunga-gap,” is sometimes used as a proper
name.
4. Bur’s sons: Othin, Vili, and Ve. Of Bur we know only that his wife
was Bestla, daughter of Bolthorn; cf. Hovamol, 141. Vili and Ve are
mentioned by name in the Eddic poems only in Lokasenna, 26. Mithgarth
(“Middle Dwelling”): the world of men. Leeks: the leek was often used
as the symbol of fine growth (cf. Guthrunarkvitha I, 17), and it was
also supposed to have magic power (cf. Sigrdrifumol, 7).
5. Various editors have regarded this stanza as interpolated; Hoffory
thinks it describes the northern summer night in which the sun does not
set. Lines 3–5 are quoted by Snorri. In the manuscripts line 4 follows
line 5. Regarding the sun and moon as daughter and son of Mundilferi,
cf. Vafthruthnismol, 23 and note, and Grimnismol, 37 and note.
6. Possibly an interpolation, but there seems no strong reason for
assuming this. Lines 1–2 are identical with lines 1–2 of stanza 9, and
line 2 may have been inserted here from that later stanza.
7. Ithavoll (“Field of Deeds”?): mentioned only here and in stanza 60
as the meeting-place of the gods; it appears in no other connection.
8. Tables: the exact nature of this game, and whether it more closely
resembled chess or checkers, has been made the subject of a 400-page
treatise, Willard Fiske’s “Chess in Iceland.” Giant-maids: perhaps the
three great Norns, corresponding to the three fates; cf. stanza 20 and
note. Possibly, however, something has been lost after this stanza, and
the missing passage, replaced by the catalogue of the dwarfs (stanzas
9–16), may have explained the “giant-maids” otherwise than as Norns. In
Vafthruthnismol, 49, the Norns (this time “three throngs” instead of
simply “three”) are spoken of as giant-maidens; Fafnismol, 13,
indicates the existence of many lesser Norns, belonging to various
races. Jotunheim: the world of the giants.
9. Here apparently begins the interpolated catalogue of the dwarfs,
running through stanza 16; possibly, however, the interpolated section
does not begin before stanza 11. Snorri quotes practically the entire
section, the names appearing in a somewhat changed order. Brimir and
Blain: nothing is known of these two giants, and it has been suggested
that both are names for Ymir (cf. stanza 3). Brimir, however, appears
in stanza 37 in connection with the home of the dwarfs. Some editors
treat the words as common rather than proper nouns, Brimir meaning “the
bloody moisture” and Blain being of uncertain significance.
10. Very few of the dwarfs named in this and the following stanzas are
mentioned elsewhere. It is not clear why Durin should have been singled
out as authority for the list. The occasional repetitions suggest that
not all the stanzas of the catalogue came from the same source. Most of
the names presumably had some definite significance, as Northri,
Suthri, Austri, and Vestri (“North,” “South,” “East,” and “West”),
Althjof (“Mighty Thief”), Mjothvitnir (“Mead-Wolf”), Gandalf (“Magic
Elf”), Vindalf (“Wind Elf”), Rathsvith (“Swift in Counsel”),
Eikinskjaldi (“Oak Shield”), etc., but in many cases the
interpretations are sheer guesswork.
12. The order of the lines in this and the succeeding four stanzas
varies greatly in the manuscripts and editions, and the names likewise
appear in many forms. Regin: probably not identical with Regin the son
of Hreithmar, who plays an important part in the Reginsmol and
Fafnismol, but cf. note on Reginsmol, introductory prose.
14. Dvalin: in Hovamol, 144, Dvalin seems to have given magic runes to
the dwarfs, probably accounting for their skill in craftsmanship, while
in Fafnismol, 13, he is mentioned as the father of some of the lesser
Norns. The story that some of the dwarfs left the rocks and mountains
to find a new home on the sands is mentioned, but unexplained, in
Snorri’s Edda; of Lofar we know only that he was descended from these
wanderers.
15. Andvari: this dwarf appears prominently in the Reginsmol, which
tells how the god Loki treacherously robbed him of his wealth; the
curse which he laid on his treasure brought about the deaths of
Sigurth, Gunnar, Atli, and many others.
17. Here the poem resumes its course after the interpolated section.
Probably, however, something has been lost, for there is no apparent
connection between the three giant-maids of stanza 8 and the three
gods, Othin, Hönir and Lothur, who in stanza 17 go forth to create man
and woman. The word “three” in stanzas 8 and 17 very likely confused
some early reciter, or perhaps the compiler himself. Ask and Embla: ash
and elm; Snorri gives them simply as the names of the first man and
woman, but says that the gods made this pair out of trees.
18. Hönir: little is known of this god, save that he occasionally
appears in the poems in company with Othin and Loki, and that he
survives the destruction, assuming in the new age the gift of prophesy
(cf. stanza 63). He was given by the gods as a hostage to the Wanes
after their war, in exchange for Njorth (cf. stanza 21 and note).
Lothur: apparently an older name for Loki, the treacherous but
ingenious son of Laufey, whose divinity Snorri regards as somewhat
doubtful. He was adopted by Othin, who subsequently had good reason to
regret it. Loki probably represents the blending of two originally
distinct figures, one of them an old fire-god, hence his gift of heat
to the newly created pair.
19. Yggdrasil: cf. stanza 2 and note, and Grimnismol, 29–35 and notes.
Urth (“The Past”): one of the three great Norns. The world-ash is kept
green by being sprinkled with the marvelous healing water from her
well.
20. The maidens: the three Norns; possibly this stanza should follow
stanza 8. Dwelling: Regius has “sæ” (sea) instead of “sal” (hall,
home), and many editors have followed this reading, although Snorri’s
prose paraphrase indicates “sal.” Urth, Verthandi and Skuld: “Past,”
“Present” and “Future.” Wood, etc.: the magic signs (runes) controlling
the destinies of men were cut on pieces of wood. Lines 3–4 are probably
interpolations from some other account of the Norns.
21. This follows stanza 20 in Regius; in the Hauksbok version stanzas
25, 26, 27, 40 and 41 come between stanzas 20 and 21. Editors have
attempted all sorts of rearrangements. The war: the first war was that
between the gods and the Wanes. The cult of the Wanes (Vanir) seems to
have originated among the seafaring folk of the Baltic and the southern
shores of the North Sea, and to have spread thence into Norway in
opposition to the worship of the older gods; hence the “war.” Finally
the two types of divinities were worshipped in common; hence the treaty
which ended the war with the exchange of hostages. Chief among the
Wanes were Njorth and his children, Freyr and Freyja, all of whom
became conspicuous among the gods. Beyond this we know little of the
Wanes, who seem originally to have been water-deities. I remember: the
manuscripts have “she remembers,” but the Volva is apparently still
speaking of her own memories, as in stanza 2. Gollveig (“Gold-Might”):
apparently the first of the Wanes to come among the gods, her
ill-treatment being the immediate cause of the war. Müllenhoff
maintains that Gollveig is another name for Freyja. Lines 5–6, one or
both of them probably interpolated, seem to symbolize the refining of
gold by fire. Hor (“The High One”): Othin.
22. Heith (“Shining One”?): a name often applied to wise-women and
prophetesses. The application of this stanza to Gollveig is far from
clear, though the reference may be to the magic and destructive power
of gold. It is also possible that the stanza is an interpolation. Bugge
maintains that it applies to the Volva who is reciting the poem, and
makes it the opening stanza, following it with stanzas 28 and 30, and
then going on with stanzas 1 ff. The text of line 2 is obscure, and has
been variously emended.
23. This stanza and stanza 24 have been transposed from the order in
the manuscripts, for the former describes the battle and the victory of
the Wanes, after which the gods took council, debating whether to pay
tribute to the victors, or to admit them, as was finally done, to equal
rights of worship.
25. Possibly, as Finn Magnusen long ago suggested, there is something
lost after stanza 24, but it was not the custom of the Eddic poets to
supply transitions which their hearers could generally be counted on to
understand. The story referred to in stanzas 25–26 (both quoted by
Snorri) is that of the rebuilding of Asgarth after its destruction by
the Wanes. The gods employed a giant as builder, who demanded as his
reward the sun and moon, and the goddess Freyja for his wife. The gods,
terrified by the rapid progress of the work, forced Loki, who had
advised the bargain, to delay the giant by a trick, so that the work
was not finished in the stipulated time (cf. Grimnismol, 44, note). The
enraged giant then threatened the gods, whereupon Thor slew him. Oth’s
bride: Freyja; of Oth little is known beyond the fact that Snorri
refers to him as a man who “went away on long journeys.”
26. Thor: the thunder-god, son of Othin and Jorth (Earth); cf.
particularly Harbarthsljoth and Thrymskvitha, passim. Oaths, etc.: the
gods, by violating their oaths to the giant who rebuilt Asgarth,
aroused the undying hatred of the giants’ race, and thus the giants
were among their enemies in the final battle.
27. Here the Volva turns from her memories of the past to a statement
of some of Othin’s own secrets in his eternal search for knowledge
(stanzas 27–29). Bugge puts this stanza after stanza 29. The horn of
Heimdall: the Gjallarhorn (“Shrieking Horn”), with which Heimdall,
watchman of the gods, will summon them to the last battle. Till that
time the horn is buried under Yggdrasil. Valfather’s pledge: Othin’s
eye (the sun?), which he gave to the water-spirit Mimir (or Mim) in
exchange for the latter’s wisdom. It appears here and in stanza 29 as a
drinking-vessel, from which Mimir drinks the magic mead, and from which
he pours water on the ash Yggdrasil. Othin’s sacrifice of his eye in
order to gain knowledge of his final doom is one of the series of
disasters leading up to the destruction of the gods. There were several
differing versions of the story of Othin’s relations with Mimir;
another one, quite incompatible with this, appears in stanza 47. In the
manuscripts I know and I see appear as “she knows” and “she sees” (cf.
note on 21).
28. The Hauksbok version omits all of stanzas 28–34, stanza 27 being
there followed by stanzas 40 and 41. Regius indicates stanzas 28 and 29
as a single stanza. Bugge puts stanza 28 after stanza 22, as the second
stanza of his reconstructed poem. The Volva here addresses Othin
directly, intimating that, although he has not told her, she knows why
he has come to her, and what he has already suffered in his search for
knowledge regarding his doom. Her reiterated “would you know yet more?”
seems to mean: “I have proved my wisdom by telling of the past and of
your own secrets; is it your will that I tell likewise of the fate in
store for you?” The Old One: Othin.
29. The first line, not in either manuscript, is a conjectural
emendation based on Snorri’s paraphrase. Bugge puts this stanza after
stanza 20.
30. This is apparently the transitional stanza, in which the Volva,
rewarded by Othin for her knowledge of the past (stanzas 1–29), is
induced to proceed with her real prophecy (stanzas 31–66). Some editors
turn the stanza into the third person, making it a narrative link.
Bugge, on the other hand, puts it after stanza 28 as the third stanza
of the poem. No lacuna is indicated in the manuscripts, and editors
have attempted various emendations. Heerfather (“Father of the Host”):
Othin.
31. Valkyries: these “Choosers of the Slain” (cf. stanza 1, note) bring
the bravest warriors killed in battle to Valhall, in order to
re-enforce the gods for their final struggle. They are also called
“Wish-Maidens,” as the fulfillers of Othin’s wishes. The conception of
the supernatural warrior-maiden was presumably brought to Scandinavia
in very early times from the South-Germanic races, and later it was
interwoven with the likewise South-Germanic tradition of the
swan-maiden. A third complication developed when the originally quite
human women of the hero-legends were endowed with the qualities of both
Valkyries and swan-maidens, as in the cases of Brynhild (cf. Gripisspo,
introductory note), Svava (cf. Helgakvitha Hjorvarthssonar, prose after
stanza 5 and note) and Sigrun (cf. Helgakvitha Hundingsbana I, 17 and
note). The list of names here given may be an interpolation; a quite
different list is given in Grimnismol, 36. Ranks of the gods: some
editors regard the word thus translated as a specific place name.
Herjan (“Leader of Hosts”): Othin. It is worth noting that the name
Hild (“Warrior”) is the basis of Bryn-hild (“Warrior in Mail-Coat”).
32. Baldr: The death of Baldr, the son of Othin and Frigg, was the
first of the great disasters to the gods. The story is fully told by
Snorri. Frigg had demanded of all created things, saving only the
mistletoe, which she thought too weak to be worth troubling about, an
oath that they would not harm Baldr. Thus it came to be a sport for the
gods to hurl weapons at Baldr, who, of course, was totally unharmed
thereby. Loki, the trouble-maker, brought the mistletoe to Baldr’s
blind brother, Hoth, and guided his hand in hurling the twig. Baldr was
slain, and grief came upon all the gods. Cf. Baldrs Draumar.
33. The lines in this and the following stanza have been combined in
various ways by editors, lacunæ having been freely conjectured, but the
manuscript version seems clear enough. The brother of Baldr: Vali, whom
Othin begot expressly to avenge Baldr’s death. The day after his birth
he fought and slew Hoth.
34. Frigg: Othin’s wife. Some scholars have regarded her as a solar
myth, calling her the sun-goddess, and pointing out that her home in
Fensalir (“the sea-halls”) symbolizes the daily setting of the sun
beneath the ocean horizon.
35. The translation here follows the Regius version. The Hauksbok has
the same final two lines, but in place of the first pair has, “I know
that Vali | his brother gnawed, / With his bowels then | was
Loki bound.” Many editors have followed this version of the whole
stanza or have included these two lines, often marking them as
doubtful, with the four from Regius. After the murder of Baldr, the
gods took Loki and bound him to a rock with the bowels of his son
Narfi, who had just been torn to pieces by Loki’s other son, Vali. A
serpent was fastened above Loki’s head, and the venom fell upon his
face. Loki’s wife, Sigyn, sat by him with a basin to catch the venom,
but whenever the basin was full, and she went away to empty it, then
the venom fell on Loki again, till the earth shook with his struggles.
“And there he lies bound till the end.” Cf. Lokasenna, concluding
prose.
36. Stanzas 36–39 describe the homes of the enemies of the gods: the
giants (36), the dwarfs (37), and the dead in the land of the goddess
Hel (38–39). The Hauksbok version omits stanzas 36 and 37. Regius
unites 36 with 37, but most editors have assumed a lacuna. Slith (“the
Fearful”): a river in the giants’ home. The “swords and daggers” may
represent the icy cold.
37. Nithavellir (“the Dark Fields”): a home of the dwarfs. Perhaps the
word should be “Nithafjoll” (“the Dark Crags”). Sindri: the great
worker in gold among the dwarfs. Okolnir (“the Not Cold”): possibly a
volcano. Brimir: the giant (possibly Ymir) out of whose blood,
according to stanza 9, the dwarfs were made; the name here appears to
mean simply the leader of the dwarfs.
38. Stanzas 38 and 39 follow stanza 43 in the Hauksbok version. Snorri
quotes stanzas 38, 39, 40 and 41, though not consecutively. Nastrond
(“Corpse-Strand”): the land of the dead, ruled by the goddess Hel. Here
the wicked undergo tortures. Smoke-vent: the phrase gives a picture of
the Icelandic house, with its opening in the roof serving instead of a
chimney.
39. The stanza is almost certainly in corrupt form. The third line is
presumably an interpolation, and is lacking in most of the late paper
manuscripts. Some editors, however, have called lines 1–3 the remains
of a full stanza, with the fourth line lacking, and lines 4–5 the
remains of another. The stanza depicts the torments of the two worst
classes of criminals known to Old Norse morality—oath-breakers and
murderers. Nithhogg (“the Dread Biter”): the dragon that lies beneath
the ash Yggdrasil and gnaws at its roots, thus symbolizing the
destructive elements in the universe; cf. Grimnismol, 32, 35. The wolf:
presumably the wolf Fenrir, one of the children of Loki and the
giantess Angrbotha (the others being Mithgarthsorm and the goddess
Hel), who was chained by the gods with the marvelous chain Gleipnir,
fashioned by a dwarf “out of six things: the noise of a cat’s step, the
beards of women, the roots of mountains, the nerves of bears, the
breath of fishes, and the spittle of birds.” The chaining of Fenrir
cost the god Tyr his right hand; cf. stanza 44.
40. The Hauksbok version inserts after stanza 39 the refrain-stanza
(44), and puts stanzas 40 and 41 between 27 and 21. With this stanza
begins the account of the final struggle itself. The giantess: her name
is nowhere stated, and the only other reference to Ironwood is in
Grimnismol, 39, in this same connection. The children of this giantess
and the wolf Fenrir are the wolves Skoll and Hati, the first of whom
steals the sun, the second the moon. Some scholars naturally see here
an eclipse-myth.
41. In the third line many editors omit the comma after “sun,” and put
one after “soon,” making the two lines run: “Dark grows the sun |
in summer soon, / Mighty storms—” etc. Either phenomenon in summer
would be sufficiently striking.
42. In the Hauksbok version stanzas 42 and 43 stand between stanzas 44
and 38. Eggther: this giant, who seems to be the watchman of the
giants, as Heimdall is that of the gods and Surt of the dwellers in the
fire-world, is not mentioned elsewhere in the poems. Fjalar, the cock
whose crowing wakes the giants for the final struggle.
43. Gollinkambi (“Gold-Comb”): the cock who wakes the gods and heroes,
as Fjalar does the giants. The rust-red bird: the name of this bird,
who wakes the people of Hel’s domain, is nowhere stated.
44. This is a refrain-stanza. In Regius it appears in full only at this
point, but is repeated in abbreviated form before stanzas 50 and 59. In
the Hauksbok version the full stanza comes first between stanzas 35 and
42, then, in abbreviated form, it occurs four times: before stanzas 45,
50, 55, and 59. In the Hauksbok line 3 runs: “Farther I see | and
more can say.” Garm: the dog who guards the gates of Hel’s kingdom; cf.
Baldrs Draumar, 2 ff, and Grimnismol, 44. Gnipahellir (“the
Cliff-Cave”): the entrance to the world of the dead. The wolf: Fenrir;
cf. stanza 39 and note.
45. From this point on through stanza 57 the poem is quoted by Snorri,
stanza 49 alone being omitted. There has been much discussion as to the
status of stanza 45. Lines 4 and 5 look like an interpolation. After
line 5 the Hauksbok has a line running: “The world resounds, | the
witch is flying.” Editors have arranged these seven lines in various
ways, with lacunæ freely indicated. Sisters’ sons: in all Germanic
countries the relations between uncle and nephew were felt to be
particularly close.
46. Regius combines the first three lines of this stanza with lines 3,
2, and 1 of stanza 47 as a single stanza. Line 4, not found in Regius,
is introduced from the Hauksbok version, where it follows line 2 of
stanza 47. The sons of Mim: the spirits of the water. On Mim (or Mimir)
cf. stanza 27 and note. Gjallarhorn: the “Shrieking Horn” with which
Heimdall, the watchman of the gods, calls them to the last battle.
47. In Regius lines 3, 2, and 1, in that order, follow stanza 46
without separation. Line 4 is not found in Regius, but is introduced
from the Hauksbok version. Yggdrasil: cf. stanza 19 and note, and
Grimnismol, 29–35. The giant: Fenrir. The head of Mim: various myths
were current about Mimir. This stanza refers to the story that he was
sent by the gods with Hönir as a hostage to the Wanes after their war
(cf. stanza 21 and note), and that the Wanes cut off his head and
returned it to the gods. Othin embalmed the head, and by magic gave it
the power of speech, thus making Mimir’s noted wisdom always available.
Of course this story does not fit with that underlying the references
to Mimir in stanzas 27 and 29. The kinsman of Surt: the wolf Fenrir,
who slays Othin in the final struggle; cf. stanza 53. Surt is the giant
who rules the fire-world, Muspellsheim; cf. stanza 52.
48. This stanza in Regius follows stanza 51; in the Hauksbok it stands,
as here, after 47. Jotunheim: the land of the giants.
49. Identical with stanza 44. In the manuscripts it is here
abbreviated.
50. Hrym: the leader of the giants, who comes as the helmsman of the
ship Naglfar (line 4). The serpent: Mithgarthsorm, one of the children
of Loki and Angrbotha (cf. stanza 39, note). The serpent was cast into
the sea, where he completely encircles the land; cf. especially
Hymiskvitha, passim. The eagle: the giant Hræsvelg, who sits at the
edge of heaven in the form of an eagle, and makes the winds with his
wings; cf. Vafthruthnismol, 37, and Skirnismol, 27. Naglfar: the ship
which was made out of dead men’s nails to carry the giants to battle.
51. North: a guess; the manuscripts have “east,” but there seems to be
a confusion with stanza 50, line 1. People of Hel: the manuscripts have
“people of Muspell,” but these came over the bridge Bifrost (the
rainbow), which broke beneath them, whereas the people of Hel came in a
ship steered by Loki. The wolf: Fenrir. The brother of Byleist: Loki.
Of Byleist (or Byleipt) no more is known.
52. Surt: the ruler of the fire-world. The scourge of branches: fire.
This is one of the relatively rare instances in the Eddic poems of the
type of poetic diction which characterizes the skaldic verse.
53. Hlin: apparently another name for Frigg, Othin’s wife. After losing
her son Baldr, she is fated now to see Othin slain by the wolf Fenrir.
Beli’s slayer: the god Freyr, who killed the giant Beli with his fist;
cf. Skirnismol, 16 and note. On Freyr, who belonged to the race of the
Wanes, and was the brother of Freyja, see especially Skirnismol,
passim. The joy of Frigg: Othin.
54. As quoted by Snorri the first line of this stanza runs: “Fares
Othin’s son | to fight with the wolf.” Sigfather (“Father of
Victory”): Othin. His son, Vithar, is the silent god, famed chiefly for
his great shield, and his strength, which is little less than Thor’s.
He survives the destruction. The giant’s son: Fenrir.
55. This and the following stanza are clearly in bad shape. In Regius
only lines 1 and 4 are found, combined with stanza 56 as a single
stanza. Line 1 does not appear in the Hauksbok version, the stanza
there beginning with line 2. Snorri, in quoting these two stanzas,
omits 55, 2–4, and 56, 3, making a single stanza out of 55, 1, and 56,
4, 2, 1, in that order. Moreover, the Hauksbok manuscript at this point
is practically illegible. The lacuna (line 3) is, of course, purely
conjectural, and all sorts of arrangements of the lines have been
attempted by editors. Hlothyn: another name for Jorth (“Earth”), Thor’s
mother; his father was Othin. The snake: Mithgarthsorm; cf. stanza 5c
and note. Othin’s son: Thor. The fourth line in Regius reads “against
the wolf,” but if this line refers to Thor at all, and not to Vithar,
the Hauksbok reading, “serpent,” is correct.
56. The warder of earth: Thor. The son of Fjorgyn: again Thor, who,
after slaying the serpent, is overcome by his venomous breath, and
dies. Fjorgyn appears in both a masculine and a feminine form. In the
masculine it is a name for Othin; in the feminine, as here and in
Harbarthsljoth, 56, it apparently refers to Jorth.
57. With this stanza ends the account of the destruction.
58. Again the refrain-stanza (cf. stanza 44 and note), abbreviated in
both manuscripts, as in the case of stanza 49. It is probably misplaced
here.
59. Here begins the description of the new world which is to rise out
of the wreck of the old one. It is on this passage that a few critics
have sought to base their argument that the poem is later than the
introduction of Christianity (circa 1000), but this theory has never
seemed convincing (cf. introductory note).
60. The third line of this stanza is not found in Regius. Ithavoll: cf.
stanza 7 and note. The girdler of earth: Mithgarthsorm, who, lying in
the sea, surrounded the land. The Ruler of Gods: Othin. The runes were
both magic signs, generally carved on wood, and sung or spoken charms.
61. The Hauksbok version of the first two lines runs:
“The gods shall find there, | wondrous fair,
The golden tables | amid the grass.”
No lacuna (line 4) is indicated in the manuscripts. Golden tables: cf.
stanza 8 and note.
62. Baldr: cf. stanza 32 and note. Baldr and his brother, Hoth, who
unwittingly slew him at Loki’s instigation, return together, their
union being a symbol of the new age of peace. Hropt: another name for
Othin. His “battle-hall” is Valhall.
63. No lacuna (line 2) indicated in the manuscripts. Hönir: cf. stanza
18 and note. In this new age he has the gift of foretelling the future.
Tveggi (“The Twofold”): another name for Othin. His brothers are Vili
and Ve (cf. Lokasenna, 26, and note). Little is known of them, and
nothing, beyond this reference, of their sons. Vindheim (“Home of the
Wind”): heaven.
64. This stanza is quoted by Snorri. Gimle: Snorri makes this the name
of the hall itself, while here it appears to refer to a mountain on
which the hall stands. It is the home of the happy, as opposed to
another hall, not here mentioned, for the dead. Snorri’s description of
this second hall is based on Voluspo, 38, which he quotes, and perhaps
that stanza properly belongs after 64.
65. This stanza is not found in Regius, and is probably spurious. No
lacuna is indicated in the Hauksbok version, but late paper manuscripts
add two lines, running:
“Rule he orders, | and rights he fixes,
Laws he ordains | that ever shall live.”
The name of this new ruler is nowhere given, and of course the
suggestion of Christianity is unavoidable. It is not certain, however,
that even this stanza refers to Christianity, and if it does, it may
have been interpolated long after the rest of the poem was composed.
66. This stanza, which fits so badly with the preceding ones, may well
have been interpolated. It has been suggested that the dragon, making a
last attempt to rise, is destroyed, this event marking the end of evil
in the world. But in both manuscripts the final half-line does not
refer to the dragon, but, as the gender shows, to the Volva herself,
who sinks into the earth; a sort of conclusion to the entire prophecy.
Presumably the stanza (barring the last half-line, which was probably
intended as the conclusion of the poem) belongs somewhere in the
description of the great struggle. Nithhogg: the dragon at the roots of
Yggdrasil; cf. stanza 39 and note. Nithafjoll (“the Dark Crags”);
nowhere else mentioned. Must I: the manuscripts have “must she.”
HOVAMOL
THE BALLAD OF THE HIGH ONE
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
This poem follows the Voluspo in the Codex Regius, but is preserved in
no other manuscript. The first stanza is quoted by Snorri, and two
lines of stanza 84 appear in one of the sagas.
In its present shape it involves the critic of the text in more puzzles
than any other of the Eddic poems. Without going in detail into the
various theories, what happened seems to have been somewhat as follows.
There existed from very early times a collection of proverbs and wise
counsels, which were attributed to Othin just as the Biblical proverbs
were to Solomon. This collection, which presumably was always elastic
in extent, was known as “The High One’s Words,” and forms the basis of
the present poem. To it, however, were added other poems and fragments
dealing with wisdom which seemed by their nature to imply that the
speaker was Othin. Thus a catalogue of runes, or charms, was tacked on,
and also a set of proverbs, differing essentially in form from those
comprising the main collection. Here and there bits of verse more
nearly narrative crept in; and of course the loose structure of the
poem made it easy for any reciter to insert new stanzas almost at will.
This curious miscellany is what we now have as the Hovamol.
Five separate elements are pretty clearly recognizable: (1) the Hovamol
proper (stanzas 1–80), a collection of proverbs and counsels for the
conduct of life; (2) the Loddfafnismol (stanzas 111–138), a collection
somewhat similar to the first, but specifically addressed to a certain
Loddfafnir; (3) the Ljothatal (stanzas 147–165), a collection of
charms; (4) the love-story of Othin and Billing’s daughter (stanzas
96–102), with an introductory dissertation on the faithlessness of
women in general (stanzas 81–95), which probably crept into the poem
first, and then pulled the story, as an apt illustration, after it; (5)
the story of how Othin got the mead of poetry—the draught which gave
him the gift of tongues—from the maiden Gunnloth (stanzas 103–110).
There is also a brief passage (stanzas 139–146) telling how Othin won
the runes, this passage being a natural introduction to the Ljothatal,
and doubtless brought into the poem for that reason.
It is idle to discuss the authorship or date of such a series of
accretions as this. Parts of it are doubtless among the oldest relics
of ancient Germanic poetry; parts of it may have originated at a
relatively late period. Probably, however, most of its component
elements go pretty far back, although we have no way of telling how or
when they first became associated.
It seems all but meaningless to talk about “interpolations” in a poem
which has developed almost solely through the process of piecing
together originally unrelated odds and ends. The notes, therefore, make
only such suggestions as are needed to keep the main divisions of the
poem distinct.
Few gnomic collections in the world’s literary history present sounder
wisdom more tersely expressed than the Hovamol. Like the Book of
Proverbs it occasionally rises to lofty heights of poetry. If it
presents the worldly wisdom of a violent race, it also shows noble
ideals of loyalty, truth, and unfaltering courage.
1. Within the gates | ere a man shall go,
(Full warily let him watch,)
Full long let him look about him;
For little he knows | where a foe may lurk,
And sit in the seats within.
2. Hail to the giver! | a guest has come;
Where shall the stranger sit?
Swift shall he be | who with swords shall try
The proof of his might to make.
3. Fire he needs | who with frozen knees
Has come from the cold without;
Food and clothes | must the farer have,
The man from the mountains come.
4. Water and towels | and welcoming speech
Should he find who comes to the feast;
If renown he would get, | and again be greeted,
Wisely and well must he act.
5. Wits must he have | who wanders wide,
But all is easy at home;
At the witless man | the wise shall wink
When among such men he sits.
6. A man shall not boast | of his keenness of mind,
But keep it close in his breast;
To the silent and wise | does ill come seldom
When he goes as guest to a house;
(For a faster friend | one never finds
Than wisdom tried and true.)
7. The knowing guest | who goes to the feast,
In silent attention sits;
With his ears he hears, | with his eyes he watches,
Thus wary are wise men all.
8. Happy the one | who wins for himself
Favor and praises fair;
Less safe by far | is the wisdom found
That is hid in another’s heart.
9. Happy the man | who has while he lives
Wisdom and praise as well,
For evil counsel | a man full oft
Has from another’s heart.
10. A better burden | may no man bear
For wanderings wide than wisdom;
It is better than wealth | on unknown ways,
And in grief a refuge it gives.
11. A better burden | may no man bear
For wanderings wide than wisdom;
Worse food for the journey | he brings not afield
Than an over-drinking of ale.
12. Less good there lies | than most believe
In ale for mortal men;
For the more he drinks | the less does man
Of his mind the mastery hold.
13. Over beer the bird | of forgetfulness broods,
And steals the minds of men;
With the heron’s feathers | fettered I lay
And in Gunnloth’s house was held.
14. Drunk I was, | I was dead-drunk,
When with Fjalar wise I was;
’Tis the best of drinking | if back one brings
His wisdom with him home.
15. The son of a king | shall be silent and wise,
And bold in battle as well;
Bravely and gladly | a man shall go,
Till the day of his death is come.
16. The sluggard believes | he shall live forever,
If the fight he faces not;
But age shall not grant him | the gift of peace,
Though spears may spare his life.
17. The fool is agape | when he comes to the feast,
He stammers or else is still;
But soon if he gets | a drink is it seen
What the mind of the man is like.
18. He alone is aware | who has wandered wide,
And far abroad has fared,
How great a mind | is guided by him
That wealth of wisdom has.
19. Shun not the mead, | but drink in measure;
Speak to the point or be still;
For rudeness none | shall rightly blame thee
If soon thy bed thou seekest.
20. The greedy man, | if his mind be vague,
Will eat till sick he is;
The vulgar man, | when among the wise,
To scorn by his belly is brought.
21. The herds know well | when home they shall fare,
And then from the grass they go;
But the foolish man | his belly’s measure
Shall never know aright.
22. A paltry man | and poor of mind
At all things ever mocks;
For never he knows, | what he ought to know,
That he is not free from faults.
23. The witless man | is awake all night,
Thinking of many things;
Care-worn he is | when the morning comes,
And his woe is just as it was.
24. The foolish man | for friends all those
Who laugh at him will hold;
When among the wise | he marks it not
Though hatred of him they speak.
25. The foolish man | for friends all those
Who laugh at him will hold;
But the truth when he comes | to the council he learns,
That few in his favor will speak.
26. An ignorant man | thinks that all he knows,
When he sits by himself in a corner;
But never what answer | to make he knows,
When others with questions come.
27. A witless man, | when he meets with men,
Had best in silence abide;
For no one shall find | that nothing he knows,
If his mouth is not open too much.
(But a man knows not, | if nothing he knows,
When his mouth has been open too much.)
28. Wise shall he seem | who well can question,
And also answer well;
Nought is concealed | that men may say
Among the sons of men.
29. Often he speaks | who never is still
With words that win no faith;
The babbling tongue, | if a bridle it find not,
Oft for itself sings ill.
30. In mockery no one | a man shall hold,
Although he fare to the feast;
Wise seems one oft, | if nought he is asked,
And safely he sits dry-skinned.
31. Wise a guest holds it | to take to his heels,
When mock of another he makes;
But little he knows | who laughs at the feast,
Though he mocks in the midst of his foes.
32. Friendly of mind | are many men,
Till feasting they mock at their friends;
To mankind a bane | must it ever be
When guests together strive.
33. Oft should one make | an early meal,
Nor fasting come to the feast;
Else he sits and chews | as if he would choke,
And little is able to ask.
34. Crooked and far | is the road to a foe,
Though his house on the highway be;
But wide and straight | is the way to a friend,
Though far away he fare.
35. Forth shall one go, | nor stay as a guest
In a single spot forever;
Love becomes loathing | if long one sits
By the hearth in another’s home.
36. Better a house, | though a hut it be,
A man is master at home;
A pair of goats | and a patched-up roof
Are better far than begging.
37. Better a house, | though a hut it be,
A man is master at home;
His heart is bleeding | who needs must beg
When food he fain would have.
38. Away from his arms | in the open field
A man should fare not a foot;
For never he knows | when the need for a spear
Shall arise on the distant road.
39. If wealth a man | has won for himself,
Let him never suffer in need;
Oft he saves for a foe | what he plans for a friend,
For much goes worse than we wish.
40. None so free with gifts | or food have I found
That gladly he took not a gift,
Nor one who so widely | scattered his wealth
That of recompense hatred he had.
41. Friends shall gladden each other | with arms and garments,
As each for himself can see;
Gift-givers’ friendships | are longest found,
If fair their fates may be.
42. To his friend a man | a friend shall prove,
And gifts with gifts requite;
But men shall mocking | with mockery answer,
And fraud with falsehood meet.
43. To his friend a man | a friend shall prove,
To him and the friend of his friend;
But never a man | shall friendship make
With one of his foeman’s friends.
44. If a friend thou hast | whom thou fully wilt trust,
And good from him wouldst get,
Thy thoughts with his mingle, | and gifts shalt thou make,
And fare to find him oft.
45. If another thou hast | whom thou hardly wilt trust,
Yet good from him wouldst get,
Thou shalt speak him fair, | but falsely think,
And fraud with falsehood requite.
46. So is it with him | whom thou hardly wilt trust,
And whose mind thou mayst not know;
Laugh with him mayst thou, | but speak not thy mind,
Like gifts to his shalt thou give.
47. Young was I once, | and wandered alone,
And nought of the road I knew;
Rich did I feel | when a comrade I found,
For man is man’s delight.
48. The lives of the brave | and noble are best,
Sorrows they seldom feed;
But the coward fear | of all things feels,
And not gladly the niggard gives.
49. My garments once | in a field I gave
To a pair of carven poles;
Heroes they seemed | when clothes they had,
But the naked man is nought.
50. On the hillside drear | the fir-tree dies,
All bootless its needles and bark;
It is like a man | whom no one loves,—
Why should his life be long?
51. Hotter than fire | between false friends
Does friendship five days burn;
When the sixth day comes | the fire cools,
And ended is all the love.
52. No great thing needs | a man to give,
Oft little will purchase praise;
With half a loaf | and a half-filled cup
A friend full fast I made.
53. A little sand | has a little sea,
And small are the minds of men;
Though all men are not | equal in wisdom,
Yet half-wise only are all.
54. A measure of wisdom | each man shall have,
But never too much let him know;
The fairest lives | do those men live
Whose wisdom wide has grown.
55. A measure of wisdom | each man shall have,
But never too much let him know;
For the wise man’s heart | is seldom happy,
If wisdom too great he has won.
56. A measure of wisdom | each man shall have,
But never too much let him know;
Let no man the fate | before him see,
For so is he freest from sorrow.
57. A brand from a brand | is kindled and burned,
And fire from fire begotten;
And man by his speech | is known to men,
And the stupid by their stillness.
58. He must early go forth | who fain the blood
Or the goods of another would get;
The wolf that lies idle | shall win little meat,
Or the sleeping man success.
59. He must early go forth | whose workers are few,
Himself his work to seek;
Much remains undone | for the morning-sleeper,
For the swift is wealth half won.
60. Of seasoned shingles | and strips of bark
For the thatch let one know his need,
And how much of wood | he must have for a month,
Or in half a year he will use.
61. Washed and fed | to the council fare,
But care not too much for thy clothes;
Let none be ashamed | of his shoes and hose,
Less still of the steed he rides,
(Though poor be the horse he has.)
62. When the eagle comes | to the ancient sea,
He snaps and hangs his head;
So is a man | in the midst of a throng,
Who few to speak for him finds.
63. To question and answer | must all be ready
Who wish to be known as wise;
Tell one thy thoughts, | but beware of two,—
All know what is known to three.
64. The man who is prudent | a measured use
Of the might he has will make;
He finds when among | the brave he fares
That the boldest he may not be.
65. . . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Oft for the words | that to others one speaks
He will get but an evil gift.
66. Too early to many | a meeting I came,
And some too late have I sought;
The beer was all drunk, | or not yet brewed;
Little the loathed man finds.
67. To their homes men would bid me | hither and yon,
If at meal-time I needed no meat,
Or would hang two hams | in my true friend’s house,
Where only one I had eaten.
68. Fire for men | is the fairest gift,
And power to see the sun;
Health as well, | if a man may have it,
And a life not stained with sin.
69. All wretched is no man, | though never so sick;
Some from their sons have joy,
Some win it from kinsmen, | and some from their wealth,
And some from worthy works.
70. It is better to live | than to lie a corpse,
The live man catches the cow;
I saw flames rise | for the rich man’s pyre,
And before his door he lay dead.
71. The lame rides a horse, | the handless is herdsman,
The deaf in battle is bold;
The blind man is better | than one that is burned,
No good can come of a corpse.
72. A son is better, | though late he be born,
And his father to death have fared;
Memory-stones | seldom stand by the road
Save when kinsman honors his kin.
73. Two make a battle, | the tongue slays the head;
In each furry coat | a fist I look for.
74. He welcomes the night | whose fare is enough.
(Short are the yards of a ship,)
Uneasy are autumn nights;
Full oft does the weather | change in a week,
And more in a month’s time.
75. A man knows not, | if nothing he knows,
That gold oft apes begets;
One man is wealthy | and one is poor,
Yet scorn for him none should know.
76. Among Fitjung’s sons | saw I well-stocked folds,—
Now bear they the beggar’s staff;
Wealth is as swift | as a winking eye,
Of friends the falsest it is.
77. Cattle die, | and kinsmen die,
And so one dies one’s self;
But a noble name | will never die,
If good renown one gets.
78. Cattle die, | and kinsmen die,
And so one dies one’s self;
One thing I know | that never dies,
The fame of a dead man’s deeds.
79. Certain is that | which is sought from runes,
That the gods so great have made,
And the Master-Poet painted;
. . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . .
. . . . . of the race of gods:
Silence is safest and best.
80. An unwise man, | if a maiden’s love
Or wealth he chances to win,
His pride will wax, | but his wisdom never,
Straight forward he fares in conceit.
* * * * * *
81. Give praise to the day at evening, | to a woman on her pyre,
To a weapon which is tried, | to a maid at wedlock,
To ice when it is crossed, | to ale that is drunk.
82. When the gale blows hew wood, | in fair winds seek the water;
Sport with maidens at dusk, | for day’s eyes are many;
From the ship seek swiftness, | from the shield protection,
Cuts from the sword, | from the maiden kisses.
83. By the fire drink ale, | over ice go on skates;
Buy a steed that is lean, | and a sword when tarnished,
The horse at home fatten, | the hound in thy dwelling.
* * * * * *
84. A man shall trust not | the oath of a maid,
Nor the word a woman speaks;
For their hearts on a whirling | wheel were fashioned,
And fickle their breasts were formed.
* * * * * *
85. In a breaking bow | or a burning flame,
A ravening wolf | or a croaking raven,
In a grunting boar, | a tree with roots broken,
In billowy seas | or a bubbling kettle,
86. In a flying arrow | or falling waters,
In ice new formed | or the serpent’s folds,
In a bride’s bed-speech | or a broken sword,
In the sport of bears | or in sons of kings,
87. In a calf that is sick | or a stubborn thrall,
A flattering witch | or a foe new slain.
88. In a brother’s slayer, | if thou meet him abroad,
In a half-burned house, | in a horse full swift—
One leg is hurt | and the horse is useless—
None had ever such faith | as to trust in them all.
* * * * * *
89. Hope not too surely | for early harvest,
Nor trust too soon in thy son;
The field needs good weather, | the son needs wisdom,
And oft is either denied.
* * * * * *
90. The love of women | fickle of will
Is like starting o’er ice | with a steed unshod,
A two-year-old restive | and little tamed,
Or steering a rudderless | ship in a storm,
Or, lame, hunting reindeer | on slippery rocks.
* * * * * *
91. Clear now will I speak, | for I know them both,
Men false to women are found;
When fairest we speak, | then falsest we think,
Against wisdom we work with deceit.
92. Soft words shall he speak | and wealth shall he offer
Who longs for a maiden’s love,
And the beauty praise | of the maiden bright;
He wins whose wooing is best.
93. Fault for loving | let no man find
Ever with any other;
Oft the wise are fettered, | where fools go free,
By beauty that breeds desire.
94. Fault with another | let no man find
For what touches many a man;
Wise men oft | into witless fools
Are made by mighty love.
95. The head alone knows | what dwells near the heart,
A man knows his mind alone;
No sickness is worse | to one who is wise
Than to lack the longed-for joy.
96. This found I myself, | when I sat in the reeds,
And long my love awaited;
As my life the maiden | wise I loved,
Yet her I never had.
97. Billing’s daughter | I found on her bed,
In slumber bright as the sun;
Empty appeared | an earl’s estate
Without that form so fair.
98. “Othin, again | at evening come,
If a woman thou wouldst win;
Evil it were | if others than we
Should know of such a sin.”
99. Away I hastened, | hoping for joy,
And careless of counsel wise;
Well I believed | that soon I should win
Measureless joy with the maid.
100. So came I next | when night it was,
The warriors all were awake;
With burning lights | and waving brands
I learned my luckless way.
101. At morning then, | when once more I came,
And all were sleeping still,
A dog I found | in the fair one’s place,
Bound there upon her bed.
102. Many fair maids, | if a man but tries them,
False to a lover are found;
That did I learn | when I longed to gain
With wiles the maiden wise;
Foul scorn was my meed | from the crafty maid,
And nought from the woman I won.
* * * * * *
103. Though glad at home, | and merry with guests,
A man shall be wary and wise;
The sage and shrewd, | wide wisdom seeking,
Must see that his speech be fair;
A fool is he named | who nought can say,
For such is the way of the witless.
104. I found the old giant, | now back have I fared,
Small gain from silence I got;
Full many a word, | my will to get,
I spoke in Suttung’s hall.
105. The mouth of Rati | made room for my passage,
And space in the stone he gnawed;
Above and below | the giants’ paths lay,
So rashly I risked my head.
106. Gunnloth gave | on a golden stool
A drink of the marvelous mead;
A harsh reward | did I let her have
For her heroic heart,
And her spirit troubled sore.
107. The well-earned beauty | well I enjoyed,
Little the wise man lacks;
So Othrörir now | has up been brought
To the midst of the men of earth.
108. Hardly, methinks, | would I home have come,
And left the giants’ land,
Had not Gunnloth helped me, | the maiden good,
Whose arms about me had been.
109. The day that followed, | the frost-giants came,
Some word of Hor to win,
(And into the hall of Hor;)
Of Bolverk they asked, | were he back midst the gods,
Or had Suttung slain him there?
110. On his ring swore Othin | the oath, methinks;
Who now his troth shall trust?
Suttung’s betrayal | he sought with drink,
And Gunnloth to grief he left.
* * * * * *
111. It is time to chant | from the chanter’s stool;
By the wells of Urth I was,
I saw and was silent, | I saw and thought,
And heard the speech of Hor.
(Of runes heard I words, | nor were counsels wanting,
At the hall of Hor,
In the hall of Hor;
Such was the speech I heard.)
112. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
Rise not at night, | save if news thou seekest,
Or fain to the outhouse wouldst fare.
113. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
Beware of sleep | on a witch’s bosom,
Nor let her limbs ensnare thee.
114. Such is her might | that thou hast no mind
For the council or meeting of men;
Meat thou hatest, | joy thou hast not,
And sadly to slumber thou farest.
115. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
Seek never to win | the wife of another,
Or long for her secret love.
116. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
If o’er mountains or gulfs | thou fain wouldst go,
Look well to thy food for the way.
117. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
An evil man | thou must not let
Bring aught of ill to thee;
For an evil man | will never make
Reward for a worthy thought.
118. I saw a man | who was wounded sore
By an evil woman’s word;
A lying tongue | his death-blow launched,
And no word of truth there was.
119. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
If a friend thou hast | whom thou fully wilt trust,
Then fare to find him oft;
For brambles grow | and waving grass
On the rarely trodden road.
120. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
A good man find | to hold in friendship,
And give heed to his healing charms.
121. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
Be never the first | to break with thy friend
The bond that holds you both;
Care eats the heart | if thou canst not speak
To another all thy thought.
122. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
Exchange of words | with a witless ape
Thou must not ever make.
123. For never thou mayst | from an evil man
A good requital get;
But a good man oft | the greatest love
Through words of praise will win thee.
124. Mingled is love | when a man can speak
To another all his thought;
Nought is so bad | as false to be,
No friend speaks only fair.
125. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
With a worse man speak not | three words in dispute,
Ill fares the better oft
When the worse man wields a sword.
126. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
A shoemaker be, | or a maker of shafts,
For only thy single self;
If the shoe is ill made, | or the shaft prove false,
Then evil of thee men think.
127. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
If evil thou knowest, | as evil proclaim it,
And make no friendship with foes.
128. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
In evil never | joy shalt thou know,
But glad the good shall make thee.
129. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
Look not up | when the battle is on,—
(Like madmen the sons | of men become,—)
Lest men bewitch thy wits.
130. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
If thou fain wouldst win | a woman’s love,
And gladness get from her,
Fair be thy promise | and well fulfilled;
None loathes what good he gets.
131. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
I bid thee be wary, | but be not fearful;
(Beware most with ale | or another’s wife,
And third beware | lest a thief outwit thee.)
132. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
Scorn or mocking | ne’er shalt thou make
Of a guest or a journey-goer.
133. Oft scarcely he knows | who sits in the house
What kind is the man who comes;
None so good is found | that faults he has not,
Nor so wicked that nought he is worth.
134. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
Scorn not ever | the gray-haired singer,
Oft do the old speak good;
(Oft from shrivelled skin | come skillful counsels,
Though it hang with the hides,
And flap with the pelts,
And is blown with the bellies.)
135. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
Curse not thy guest, | nor show him thy gate,
Deal well with a man in want.
136. Strong is the beam | that raised must be
To give an entrance to all;
Give it a ring, | or grim will be
The wish it would work on thee.
137. I rede thee, Loddfafnir! | and hear thou my rede,—
Profit thou hast if thou hearest,
Great thy gain if thou learnest:
When ale thou drinkest, | seek might of earth,
(For earth cures drink, | and fire cures ills,
The oak cures tightness, | the ear cures magic,
Rye cures rupture, | the moon cures rage,
Grass cures the scab, | and runes the sword-cut;)
The field absorbs the flood.
138. Now are Hor’s words | spoken in the hall,
Kind for the kindred of men,
Cursed for the kindred of giants:
Hail to the speaker, | and to him who learns!
Profit be his who has them!
Hail to them who hearken
* * * * * *
139. I ween that I hung | on the windy tree,
Hung there for nights full nine;
With the spear I was wounded, | and offered I was
To Othin, myself to myself,
On the tree that none | may ever know
What root beneath it runs.
140. None made me happy | with loaf or horn,
And there below I looked;
I took up the runes, | shrieking I took them,
And forthwith back I fell.
141. Nine mighty songs | I got from the son
Of Bolthorn, Bestla’s father;
And a drink I got | of the goodly mead
Poured out from Othrörir.
142. Then began I to thrive, | and wisdom to get,
I grew and well I was;
Each word led me on | to another word,
Each deed to another deed.
143. Runes shalt thou find, | and fateful signs,
That the king of singers colored,
And the mighty gods have made;
Full strong the signs, | full mighty the signs
That the ruler of gods doth write.
144. Othin for the gods, | Dain for the elves,
And Dvalin for the dwarfs,
Alsvith for giants | and all mankind,
And some myself I wrote.
145. Knowest how one shall write, | knowest how one shall rede?
Knowest how one shall tint, | knowest how one makes trial?
Knowest how one shall ask, | knowest how one shall offer?
Knowest how one shall send, | knowest how one shall sacrifice?
146. Better no prayer | than too big an offering,
By thy getting measure thy gift;
Better is none | than too big a sacrifice,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
So Thund of old wrote | ere man’s race began,
Where he rose on high | when home he came.
* * * * * *
147. The songs I know | that king’s wives know not,
Nor men that are sons of men;
The first is called help, | and help it can bring thee
In sorrow and pain and sickness.
148. A second I know, | that men shall need
Who leechcraft long to use;
. . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
149. A third I know, | if great is my need
Of fetters to hold my foe;
Blunt do I make | mine enemy’s blade,
Nor bites his sword or staff.
150. A fourth I know, | if men shall fasten
Bonds on my bended legs;
So great is the charm | that forth I may go,
The fetters spring from my feet,
Broken the bonds from my hands.
151. A fifth I know, | if I see from afar
An arrow fly ’gainst the folk;
It flies not so swift | that I stop it not,
If ever my eyes behold it.
152. A sixth I know, | if harm one seeks
With a sapling’s roots to send me;
The hero himself | who wreaks his hate
Shall taste the ill ere I.
153. A seventh I know, | if I see in flames
The hall o’er my comrades’ heads;
It burns not so wide | that I will not quench it,
I know that song to sing.
154. An eighth I know, | that is to all
Of greatest good to learn;
When hatred grows | among heroes’ sons,
I soon can set it right.
155. A ninth I know, | if need there comes
To shelter my ship on the flood;
The wind I calm | upon the waves,
And the sea I put to sleep.
156. A tenth I know, | what time I see
House-riders flying on high;
So can I work | that wildly they go,
Showing their true shapes,
Hence to their own homes.
157. An eleventh I know, | if needs I must lead
To the fight my long-loved friends;
I sing in the shields, | and in strength they go
Whole to the field of fight,
Whole from the field of fight,
And whole they come thence home.
158. A twelfth I know, | if high on a tree
I see a hanged man swing;
So do I write | and color the runes
That forth he fares,
And to me talks.
159. A thirteenth I know, | if a thane full young
With water I sprinkle well;
He shall not fall, | though he fares mid the host,
Nor sink beneath the swords.
160. A fourteenth I know, | if fain I would name
To men the mighty gods;
All know I well | of the gods and elves,—
Few be the fools know this.
161. A fifteenth I know, | that before the doors
Of Delling sang Thjothrörir the dwarf;
Might he sang for the gods, | and glory for elves,
And wisdom for Hroptatyr wise.
162. A sixteenth I know, | if I seek delight
To win from a maiden wise;
The mind I turn | of the white-armed maid,
And thus change all her thoughts.
163. A seventeenth I know, | so that seldom shall go
A maiden young from me;
. . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
164. Long these songs | thou shalt, Loddfafnir,
Seek in vain to sing;
Yet good it were | if thou mightest get them,
Well, if thou wouldst them learn,
Help, if thou hadst them.
165. An eighteenth I know, | that ne’er will I tell
To maiden or wife of man,—
The best is what none | but one’s self doth know,
So comes the end of the songs,—
Save only to her | in whose arms I lie,
Or who else my sister is.
NOTES
1. This stanza is quoted by Snorri, the second line being omitted in
most of the Prose Edda manuscripts.
2. Probably the first and second lines had originally nothing to do
with the third and fourth, the last two not referring to host or guest,
but to the general danger of backing one’s views with the sword.
6. Lines 5 and 6 appear to have been added to the stanza.
12. Some editors have combined this stanza in various ways with the
last two lines of stanza 11, as in the manuscript the first two lines
of the latter are abbreviated, and, if they belong there at all, are
presumably identical with the first two lines of stanza 10.
13. The heron: the bird of forgetfulness, referred to in line 1.
Gunnloth: the daughter of the giant Suttung, from whom Othin won the
mead of poetry. For this episode see stanzas 104–110.
14. Fjalar: apparently another name for Suttung. This stanza, and
probably 13, seem to have been inserted as illustrative.
25. The first two lines are abbreviated in the manuscript, but are
doubtless identical with the first two lines of stanza 24.
27. The last two lines were probably added as a commentary on lines 3
and 4.
36. The manuscript has “little” in place of “a hut” in line 1, but this
involves an error in the initial-rhymes, and the emendation has been
generally accepted.
37. Lines 1 and 2 are abbreviated in the manuscript, but are doubtless
identical with the first two lines of stanza 36.
39. In the manuscript this stanza follows stanza 40.
40. The key-word in line 3 is missing in the manuscript, but editors
have agreed in inserting a word meaning “generous.”
41. In line 3 the manuscript adds “givers again” to “gift-givers.”
55–56. The first pairs of lines are abbreviated in the manuscript.
61. The fifth line is probably a spurious addition.
62. This stanza follows stanza 63 in the manuscript, but there are
marks therein indicating the transposition.
65. The manuscript indicates no lacuna (lines 1 and 2). Many editors
have filled out the stanza with two lines from late paper manuscripts,
the passage running:
“A man must be watchful | and wary as well,
And fearful of trusting a friend.”
70. The manuscript has “and a worthy life” in place of “than to lie a
corpse” in line 1, but Rask suggested the emendation as early as 1818,
and most editors have followed him.
73–74. These seven lines are obviously a jumble. The two lines of
stanza 73 not only appear out of place, but the verse-form is unlike
that of the surrounding stanzas. In 74, the second line is clearly
interpolated, and line 1 has little enough connection with lines 3, 4
and 5. It looks as though some compiler (or copyist) had inserted here
various odds and ends for which he could find no better place.
75. The word “gold” in line 2 is more or less conjectural, the
manuscript being obscure. The reading in line 4 is also doubtful.
76. In the manuscript this stanza follows 78, the order being: 77, 78,
76, 80, 79, 81. Fitjung (“the Nourisher”): Earth.
79. This stanza is certainly in bad shape, and probably out of place
here. Its reference to runes as magic signs suggests that it properly
belongs in some list of charms like the Ljothatal (stanzas 147–165).
The stanza-form is so irregular as to show either that something has
been lost or that there have been interpolations. The manuscript
indicates no lacuna; Gering fills out the assumed gap as follows:
“Certain is that | which is sought from runes,
The runes—,” etc.
81. With this stanza the verse-form, as indicated in the translation,
abruptly changes to Malahattr. What has happened seems to have been
something like this. Stanza 80 introduces the idea of man’s love for
woman. Consequently some reciter or compiler (or possibly even a
copyist) took occasion to insert at this point certain stanzas
concerning the ways of women. Thus stanza 80 would account for the
introduction of stanzas 81 and 82, which, in turn, apparently drew
stanza 83 in with them. Stanza 84 suggests the fickleness of women, and
is immediately followed—again with a change of verse-form—by a list of
things equally untrustworthy (stanzas 85–90). Then, after a few more
stanzas on love in the regular measure of the Hovamol (stanzas 91–95),
is introduced, by way of illustration, Othin’s story of his adventure
with Billing’s daughter (stanzas 96–102). Some such process of growth,
whatever its specific stages may have been, must be assumed to account
for the curious chaos of the whole passage from stanza 81 to stanza
102.
84. Lines 3 and 4 are quoted in the Fostbræthrasaga.
85. Stanzas 85–88 and 90 are in Fornyrthislag, and clearly come from a
different source from the rest of the Hovamol.
87. The stanza is doubtless incomplete. Some editors add from a late
paper manuscript two lines running:
“In a light, clear sky | or a laughing throng,
In the howl of a dog | or a harlot’s grief.”
88. This stanza follows stanza 89 in the manuscript. Many editors have
changed the order, for while stanza 89 is pretty clearly an
interpolation wherever it stands, it seriously interferes with the
sense if it breaks in between 87 and 88.
96. Here begins the passage (stanzas 96–102) illustrating the falseness
of woman by the story of Othin’s unsuccessful love-affair with
Billing’s daughter. Of this person we know nothing beyond what is here
told, but the story needs little comment.
102. Rask adds at the beginning of this stanza two lines from a late
paper manuscript, running:
“Few are so good | that false they are never
To cheat the mind of a man.”
He makes these two lines plus lines 1 and 2 a full stanza, and lines 3,
4, 5, and 6 a second stanza.
103. With this stanza the subject changes abruptly, and apparently the
virtues of fair speech, mentioned in the last three lines, account for
the introduction, from what source cannot be known, of the story of
Othin and the mead of song (stanzas 104–110).
104. The giant Suttung (“the old giant”) possessed the magic mead, a
draught of which conferred the gift of poetry. Othin, desiring to
obtain it, changed himself into a snake, bored his way through a
mountain into Suttung’s home, made love to the giant’s daughter,
Gunnloth, and by her connivance drank up all the mead. Then he flew
away in the form of an eagle, leaving Gunnloth to her fate. While with
Suttung he assumed the name of Bolverk (“the Evil-Doer”).
105. Rati (“the Traveller”): the gimlet with which Othin bored through
the mountain to reach Suttung’s home.
106. Probably either the fourth or the fifth line is a spurious
addition.
107. Othrörir: here the name of the magic mead itself, whereas in
stanza 141 it is the name of the vessel containing it. Othin had no
intention of bestowing any of the precious mead upon men, but as he was
flying over the earth, hotly pursued by Suttung, he spilled some of it
out of his mouth, and in this way mankind also won the gift of poetry.
109. Hor: Othin (“the High One”). The frost-giants, Suttung’s kinsmen,
appear not to have suspected Othin of being identical with Bolverk,
possibly because the oath referred to in stanza 110 was an oath made by
Othin to Suttung that there was no such person as Bolverk among the
gods. The giants, of course, fail to get from Othin the information
they seek concerning Bolverk, but Othin is keenly conscious of having
violated the most sacred of oaths, that sworn on his ring.
111. With this stanza begins the Loddfafnismol (stanzas 111–138).
Loddfafnir is apparently a wandering singer, who, from his “chanter’s
stool,” recites the verses which he claims to have received from Othin.
Wells of Urth: cf. Voluspo, 19 and note. Urth (“the Past”) is one of
the three Norns. This stanza is apparently in corrupt form, and editors
have tried many experiments with it, both in rejecting lines as
spurious and in rearranging the words and punctuation. It looks rather
as though the first four lines formed a complete stanza, and the last
four had crept in later. The phrase translated “the speech of Hor” is
“Hova mol,” later used as the title for the entire poem.
112. Lines 1–3 are the formula, repeated (abbreviated in the
manuscript) in most of the stanzas, with which Othin prefaces his
counsels to Loddfafnir, and throughout this section, except in stanzas
111 and 138, Loddfafnir represents himself as simply quoting Othin’s
words. The material is closely analogous to that contained in the first
eighty stanzas of the poem. In some cases (e.g., stanzas 117, 119, 121,
126 and 130) the formula precedes a full four-line stanza instead of
two (or three) lines.
129. Line 5 is apparently interpolated.
131. Lines 5–6 probably were inserted from a different poem.
133. Many editors reject the last two lines of this stanza as spurious,
putting the first two lines at the end of the preceding stanza. Others,
attaching lines 3 and 4 to stanza 132, insert as the first two lines of
stanza 133 two lines from a late paper manuscript, running:
“Evil and good | do men’s sons ever
Mingled bear in their breasts.”
134. Presumably the last four lines have been added to this stanza, for
the parallelism in the last three makes it probable that they belong
together. The wrinkled skin of the old man is compared with the dried
skins and bellies of animals kept for various purposes hanging in an
Icelandic house.
136. This stanza suggests the dangers of too much hospitality. The beam
(bolt) which is ever being raised to admit guests becomes weak thereby.
It needs a ring to help it in keeping the door closed, and without the
ability at times to ward off guests a man becomes the victim of his own
generosity.
137. The list of “household remedies” in this stanza is doubtless
interpolated. Their nature needs no comment here.
138. In the manuscript this stanza comes at the end of the entire poem,
following stanza 165. Most recent editors have followed Müllenhoff in
shifting it to this position, as it appears to conclude the passage
introduced by the somewhat similar stanza III.
139. With this stanza begins the most confusing part of the Hovamol:
the group of eight stanzas leading up to the Ljothatal, or list of
charms. Certain paper manuscripts have before this stanza a title:
“Othin’s Tale of the Runes.” Apparently stanzas 139, 140 and 142 are
fragments of an account of how Othin obtained the runes; 141 is
erroneously inserted from some version of the magic mead story (cf.
stanzas 104–110); and stanzas 143, 144, 145, and 146 are from
miscellaneous sources, all, however, dealing with the general subject
of runes. With stanza 147 a clearly continuous passage begins once
more. The windy tree: the ash Yggdrasil (literally “the Horse of
Othin,” so called because of this story), on which Othin, in order to
win the magic runes, hanged himself as an offering to himself, and
wounded himself with his own spear. Lines 5 and 6 have presumably been
borrowed from Svipdagsmol, 30.
141. This stanza, interrupting as it does the account of Othin’s
winning the runes, appears to be an interpolation. The meaning of the
stanza is most obscure. Bolthorn was Othin’s grandfather, and Bestla
his mother. We do not know the name of the uncle here mentioned, but it
has been suggested that this son of Bolthorn was Mimir (cf. Voluspo, 27
and note, and 47 and note). In any case, the nine magic songs which he
learned from his uncle seem to have enabled him to win the magic mead
(cf. stanzas 104–110). Concerning Othrörir, here used as the name of
the vessel containing the mead, cf. stanza 107 and note.
143. This and the following stanza belong together, and in many
editions appear as a single stanza. They presumably come from some lost
poem on the authorship of the runes. Lines 2 and 3 follow line 4 in the
manuscript; the transposition was suggested by Bugge. The king of
singers: Othin. The magic signs (runes) were commonly carved in wood,
then colored red.
144. Dain and Dvalin: dwarfs; cf. Voluspo, 14, and note. Dain, however,
may here be one of the elves rather than the dwarf of that name. The
two names also appear together in Grimnismol, 33, where they are
applied to two of the four harts that nibble at the topmost twigs of
Yggdrasil. Alsvith (“the All-Wise”) appears nowhere else as a giant’s
name. Myself: Othin. We have no further information concerning the list
of those who wrote the runes for the various races, and these four
lines seem like a confusion of names in the rather hazy mind of some
reciter.
145. This Malahattr stanza appears to be a regular religious formula,
concerned less with the runes which one “writes” and “tints” (cf.
stanza 79) than with the prayers which one “asks” and the sacrifices
which one “offers” and “sends.” Its origin is wholly uncertain, but it
is clearly an interpolation here. In the manuscript the phrase
“knowest?” is abbreviated after the first line.
146. This stanza as translated here follows the manuscript reading,
except in assuming a gap between lines 3 and 5. In Vigfusson and
Powell’s Corpus Poeticum Boreale the first three lines have somehow
been expanded into eight. The last two lines are almost certainly
misplaced; Bugge suggests that they belong at the end of stanza 144.
Thund: another name for Othin. When home he came: presumably after
obtaining the runes as described in stanzas 139 and 140.
147. With this stanza begins the Ljothatal, or list of charms. The
magic songs themselves are not given, but in each case the peculiar
application of the charm is explained. The passage, which is certainly
approximately complete as far as it goes, runs to the end of the poem.
In the manuscript and in most editions line 4 falls into two
half-lines, running:
“In sickness and pain | and every sorrow.”
148. Second, etc., appear in the manuscript as Roman numerals. The
manuscript indicates no gap after line 2.
152. The sending of a root with runes written thereon was an excellent
way of causing death. So died the Icelandic hero Grettir the Strong.
156. House-riders: witches, who ride by night on the roofs of houses,
generally in the form of wild beasts. Possibly one of the last two
lines is spurious.
157. The last line looks like an unwarranted addition, and line 4 may
likewise be spurious.
158. Lines 4–5 are probably expanded from a single line.
159. The sprinkling of a child with water was an established custom
long before Christianity brought its conception of baptism.
161. This stanza, according to Müllenhoff, was the original conclusion
of the poem, the phrase “a fifteenth” being inserted only after stanzas
162–165 had crept in. Delling: a seldom mentioned god who married Not
(Night). Their son was Dag (Day). Thjothrörir: not mentioned elsewhere.
Hroptatyr: Othin.
163. Some editors have combined these two lines with stanza 164. Others
have assumed that the gap follows the first half-line, making “so
that—from me” the end of the stanza.
164. This stanza is almost certainly an interpolation, and seems to
have been introduced after the list of charms and the Loddfafnismol
(stanzas 111–138) were combined in a single poem, for there is no other
apparent excuse for the reference to Loddfafnir at this point. The
words “if thou mightest get them” are a conjectural emendation.
165. This stanza is almost totally obscure. The third and fourth lines
look like interpolations.
VAFTHRUTHNISMOL
THE BALLAD OF VAFTHRUTHNIR
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
The Vafthruthnismol follows the Hovamol in the Codex Regius. From
stanza 20 on it is also included in the Arnamagnæan Codex, the first
part evidently having appeared on a leaf now lost. Snorri quotes eight
stanzas of it in the Prose Edda, and in his prose text closely
paraphrases many others.
The poem is wholly in dialogue form except for a single narrative
stanza (stanza 5). After a brief introductory discussion between Othin
and his wife, Frigg, concerning the reputed wisdom of the giant
Vafthruthnir, Othin, always in quest of wisdom, seeks out the giant,
calling himself Gagnrath. The giant immediately insists that they shall
demonstrate which is the wiser of the two, and propounds four questions
(stanzas 11, 13, 15, and 17), each of which Othin answers. It is then
the god’s turn to ask, and he begins with a series of twelve numbered
questions regarding the origins and past history of life. These
Vafthruthnir answers, and Othin asks five more questions, this time
referring to what is to follow the destruction of the gods, the last
one asking the name of his own slayer. Again Vafthruthnir answers, and
Othin finally propounds the unanswerable question: “What spake Othin
himself in the ears of his son, ere in the bale-fire he burned?”
Vafthruthnir, recognizing his questioner as Othin himself, admits his
inferiority in wisdom, and so the contest ends.
The whole poem is essentially encyclopædic in character, and thus was
particularly useful to Snorri in his preparation of the Prose Edda. The
encyclopædic poem with a slight narrative outline seems to have been
exceedingly popular; the Grimnismol and the much later Alvissmol
represent different phases of the same type. The Vafthruthnismol and
Grimnismol together, indeed, constitute a fairly complete dictionary of
Norse mythology. There has been much discussion as to the probable date
of the Vafthruthnismol, but it appears to belong to about the same
period as the Voluspo: in other words, the middle of the tenth century.
While there may be a few interpolated passages in the poem as we now
have it, it is clearly a united whole, and evidently in relatively good
condition.
Othin spake:
1. “Counsel me, Frigg, | for I long to fare,
And Vafthruthnir fain would find;
In wisdom old | with the giant wise
Myself would I seek to match.”
Frigg spake:
2. “Heerfather here | at home would I keep,
Where the gods together dwell;
Amid all the giants | an equal in might
To Vafthruthnir know I none.”
Othin spake:
3. “Much have I fared, | much have I found,
Much have I got from the gods;
And fain would I know | how Vafthruthnir now
Lives in his lofty hall.”
Frigg spake:
4. “Safe mayst thou go, | safe come again,
And safe be the way thou wendest!
Father of men, | let thy mind be keen
When speech with the giant thou seekest.”
5. The wisdom then | of the giant wise
Forth did he fare to try;
He found the hall | of the father of Im,
And in forthwith went Ygg.
Othin spake:
6. “Vafthruthnir, hail! | to thy hall am I come,
For thyself I fain would see;
And first would I ask | if wise thou art,
Or, giant, all wisdom hast won.”
Vafthruthnir spake:
7. “Who is the man | that speaks to me,
Here in my lofty hall?
Forth from our dwelling | thou never shalt fare,
Unless wiser than I thou art.”
Othin spake:
8. “Gagnrath they call me, | and thirsty I come
From a journey hard to thy hall;
Welcome I look for, | for long have I fared,
And gentle greeting, giant.”
Vafthruthnir spake:
9. “Why standest thou there | on the floor whilst thou
speakest?
A seat shalt thou have in my hall;
Then soon shall we know | whose knowledge is more,
The guest’s or the sage’s gray.”
Othin spake:
10. “If a poor man reaches | the home of the rich,
Let him wisely speak or be still;
For to him who speaks | with the hard of heart
Will chattering ever work ill.”
Vafthruthnir spake:
11. “Speak forth now, Gagnrath, | if there from the floor
Thou wouldst thy wisdom make known:
What name has the steed | that each morn anew
The day for mankind doth draw?”
Othin spake:
12. “Skinfaxi is he, | the steed who for men
The glittering day doth draw;
The best of horses | to heroes he seems,
And brightly his mane doth burn.”
Vafthruthnir spake:
13. “Speak forth now, Gagnrath, | if there from the floor
Thou wouldst thy wisdom make known:
What name has the steed | that from East anew
Brings night for the noble gods?”
Othin spake:
14. “Hrimfaxi name they | the steed that anew
Brings night for the noble gods;
Each morning foam | from his bit there falls,
And thence come the dews in the dales.”
Vafthruthnir spake:
15. “Speak forth now, Gagnrath, | if there from the floor
Thou wouldst thy wisdom make known:
What name has the river | that ’twixt the realms
Of the gods and the giants goes?”
Othin spake:
16. “Ifing is the river | that ’twixt the realms
Of the gods and the giants goes;
For all time ever | open it flows,
No ice on the river there is.”
Vafthruthnir spake:
17. “Speak forth now, Gagnrath, | if there from the floor
Thou wouldst thy wisdom make known:
What name has the field | where in fight shall meet
Surt and the gracious gods?”
Othin spake:
18. “Vigrith is the field | where in fight shall meet
Surt and the gracious gods;
A hundred miles | each way does it measure,
And so are its boundaries set.”
Vafthruthnir spake:
19. “Wise art thou, guest! | To my bench shalt thou go,
In our seats let us speak together;
Here in the hall | our heads, O guest,
hall we wager our wisdom upon.”
Othin spake:
20. “First answer me well, | if thy wisdom avails,
And thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
In earliest time | whence came the earth,
Or the sky, thou giant sage?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
21. “Out of Ymir’s flesh | was fashioned the earth,
And the mountains were made of his bones;
The sky from the frost-cold | giant’s skull,
And the ocean out of his blood.”
Othin spake:
22. “Next answer me well, | if thy wisdom avails,
And thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
Whence came the moon, | o’er the world of men
That fares, and the flaming sun?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
23. “Mundilferi is he | who begat the moon,
And fathered the flaming sun;
The round of heaven | each day they run,
To tell the time for men.”
Othin spake:
24. “Third answer me well, | if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
Whence came the day, | o’er mankind that fares,
Or night with the narrowing moon?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
25. “The father of day | is Delling called,
And the night was begotten by Nor;
Full moon and old | by the gods were fashioned,
To tell the time for men.”
Othin spake:
26. “Fourth answer me well, | if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
Whence did winter come, | or the summer warm,
First with the gracious gods?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
27. “Vindsval he was | who was winter’s father,
And Svosuth summer begat;”
. . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Othin spake:
28. “Fifth answer me well, | if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
What giant first | was fashioned of old,
And the eldest of Ymir’s kin?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
29. “Winters unmeasured | ere earth was made
Was the birth of Bergelmir;
Thruthgelmir’s son | was the giant strong,
And Aurgelmir’s grandson of old.”
Othin spake:
30. “Sixth answer me well, | if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
Whence did Aurgelmir come | with the giants’ kin,
Long since, thou giant sage?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
31. “Down from Elivagar | did venom drop,
And waxed till a giant it was;
And thence arose | our giants’ race,
And thus so fierce are we found.”
Othin spake:
32. “Seventh answer me well, | if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
How begat he children, | the giant grim,
Who never a giantess knew?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
33. “They say ’neath the arms | of the giant of ice
Grew man-child and maid together;
And foot with foot | did the wise one fashion
A son that six heads bore.”
Othin spake:
34. “Eighth answer me well, | if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
What farthest back | dost thou bear in mind?
For wide is thy wisdom, giant!”
Vafthruthnir spake:
35. “Winters unmeasured | ere earth was made
Was the birth of Bergelmir;
This first knew I well, | when the giant wise
In a boat of old was borne.”
Othin spake:
36. “Ninth answer me well, | if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
Whence comes the wind | that fares o’er the waves
Yet never itself is seen?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
37. “In an eagle’s guise | at the end of heaven
Hræsvelg sits, they say;
And from his wings | does the wind come forth
To move o’er the world of men.”
Othin spake:
38. “Tenth answer me now, | if thou knowest all
The fate that is fixed for the gods:
Whence came up Njorth | to the kin of the gods,—
(Rich in temples | and shrines he rules,—)
Though of gods he was never begot?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
39. “In the home of the Wanes | did the wise ones create him,
And gave him as pledge to the gods;
At the fall of the world | shall he fare once more
Home to the Wanes so wise.”
Othin spake:
40. “Eleventh answer me well, | . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . .
What men . . . . . . | in . . . . . . home
Each day to fight go forth?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
41. “The heroes all | in Othin’s hall
Each day to fight go forth;
They fell each other, | and fare from the fight
All healed full soon to sit.”
Othin spake:
42. “Twelfth answer me now | how all thou knowest
Of the fate that is fixed for the gods;
Of the runes of the gods | and the giants’ race
The truth indeed dost thou tell,
(And wide is thy wisdom, giant!)”
Vafthruthnir spake:
43. “Of the runes of the gods | and the giants’ race
The truth indeed can I tell,
(For to every world have I won;)
To nine worlds came I, | to Niflhel beneath,
The home where dead men dwell.”
Othin spake:
44. “Much have I fared, | much have I found,
Much have I got of the gods:
What shall live of mankind | when at last there comes
The mighty winter to men?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
45. “In Hoddmimir’s wood | shall hide themselves
Lif and Lifthrasir then;
The morning dews | for meat shall they have,
Such food shall men then find.”
Othin spake:
46. “Much have I fared, | much have I found,
Much have I got of the gods:
Whence comes the sun | to the smooth sky back,
When Fenrir has snatched it forth?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
47. “A daughter bright | Alfrothul bears
Ere Fenrir snatches her forth;
Her mother’s paths | shall the maiden tread
When the gods to death have gone.”
Othin spake:
48. “Much have I fared, | much have I found,
Much have I got of the gods:
What maidens are they, | so wise of mind,
That forth o’er the sea shall fare?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
49. “O’er Mogthrasir’s hill | shall the maidens pass,
And three are their throngs that come;
They all shall protect | the dwellers on earth,
Though they come of the giants’ kin.”
Othin spake:
50. “Much have I fared, | much have I found,
Much have I got of the gods:
Who then shall rule | the realm of the gods,
When the fires of Surt have sunk?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
51. “In the gods’ home Vithar | and Vali shall dwell,
When the fires of Surt have sunk;
Mothi and Magni | shall Mjollnir have
When Vingnir falls in fight.”
Othin spake:
52. “Much have I fared, | much have I found,
Much have I got of the gods:
What shall bring the doom | of death to Othin,
When the gods to destruction go?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
53. “The wolf shall fell | the father of men,
And this shall Vithar avenge;
The terrible jaws | shall he tear apart,
And so the wolf shall he slay.”
Othin spake:
54. “Much have I fared, | much have I found,
Much have I got from the gods:
What spake Othin himself | in the ears of his son,
Ere in the bale-fire he burned?”
Vafthruthnir spake:
55. “No man can tell | what in olden time
Thou spak’st in the ears of thy son;
With fated mouth | the fall of the gods
And mine olden tales have I told;
With Othin in knowledge | now have I striven,
And ever the wiser thou art.”
NOTES
1. The phrases “Othin spake,” “Frigg spake,” etc., appear in
abbreviated form in both manuscripts. Frigg: Othin’s wife; cf. Voluspo,
34 and note. Vafthruthnir (“the Mighty in Riddles”): nothing is known
of this giant beyond what is told in this poem.
2. Heerfather (“Father of the Host”): Othin.
5. This single narrative stanza is presumably a later interpolation.
Im: the name appears to be corrupt, but we know nothing of any son of
Vafthruthnir. Ygg (“the Terrible”): Othin.
8. Gagnrath (“the Gain-Counsellor”): Othin on his travels always
assumes a name other than his own.
10. This stanza sounds very much like many of those in the first part
of the Hovamol, and may have been introduced here from some such
source.
12. Skinfaxi: “Shining-Mane.”
13. Here, and in general throughout the poem, the two-line introductory
formulæ are abbreviated in the manuscripts.
14. Hrimfaxi: “Frosty-Mane.”
16. Ifing: there is no other reference to this river, which never
freezes, so that the giants cannot cross it.
17. Surt: the ruler of the fire-world (Muspellsheim), who comes to
attack the gods in the last battle; cf. Voluspo, 52.
18. Vigrith: “the Field of Battle.” Snorri quotes this stanza. A
hundred miles: a general phrase for a vast distance.
19. With this stanza Vafthruthnir, sufficiently impressed with his
guest’s wisdom to invite him to share his own seat, resigns the
questioning to Othin.
20. The fragmentary version of this poem in the Arnamagnæan Codex
begins in the middle of the first line of this stanza.
21. Ymir: the giant out of whose body the gods made the world; cf.
Voluspo, 3 and note.
22. In this and in Othin’s following questions, both manuscripts
replace the words “next,” “third,” “fourth,” etc., by Roman numerals.
23. Mundilferi (“the Turner”?): known only as the father of Mani (the
Moon) and Sol (the Sun). Note that, curiously enough, Mani is the boy
and Sol the girl. According to Snorri, Sol drove the horses of the sun,
and Mani those of the moon, for the gods, indignant that they should
have been given such imposing names, took them from their father to
perform these tasks. Cf. Grimnismol, 37.
25. Delling (“the Dayspring”? Probably another form of the name,
Dogling, meaning “Son of the Dew” is more correct): the husband of Not
(Night); their son was Dag (Day); cf. Hovamol, 161. Nor: Snorri calls
the father of Night Norvi or Narfi, and puts him among the giants.
Lines 3–4: cf. Voluspo, 6.
27. Neither the Regius nor the Arnamagnæan Codex indicates a lacuna.
Most editors have filled out the stanza with two lines from late paper
manuscripts: “And both of these | shall ever be, / Till the gods to
destruction go.” Bugge ingeniously paraphrases Snorri’s prose:
“Vindsval’s father | was Vosuth called, / And rough is all his
race.” Vindsval: “the Wind-Cold,” also called Vindljoni, “the
Wind-Man.” Svosuth: “the Gentle.”
28. Ymir’s kin: the giants.
29. Bergelmir: when the gods slew Ymir in order to make the world out
of his body, so much blood flowed from him that all the frost-giants
were drowned except Bergelmir and his wife, who escaped in a boat; cf.
stanza 35. Of Thruthgelmir (“the Mightily Burning”) we know nothing,
but Aurgelmir was the frost-giants’ name for Ymir himself. Thus Ymir
was the first of the giants, and so Othin’s question is answered.
31. Snorri quotes this stanza, and the last two lines are taken from
his version, as both of the manuscripts omit them. Elivagar (“Stormy
Waves”): Mogk suggests that this river may have been the Milky Way. At
any rate, the venom carried in its waters froze into ice-banks over
Ginnunga-gap (the “yawning gap” referred to in Voluspo, 3), and then
dripped down to make the giant Ymir.
33. Snorri gives, without materially elaborating on it, the same
account of how Ymir’s son and daughter were born under his left arm,
and how his feet together created a son. That this offspring should
have had six heads is nothing out of the ordinary, for various giants
had more than the normal number, and Hymir’s mother is credited with a
little matter of nine hundred heads; cf. Hymiskvitha, 8. Of the career
of Ymir’s six-headed son we know nothing; he may have been the
Thruthgelmir of stanza 29.
35. Snorri quotes this stanza. Bergelmir: on him and his boat cf.
stanza 29 and note.
37. Snorri quotes this stanza. Hræsvelg (“the Corpse-Eater”): on this
giant in eagle’s form cf. Voluspo, 50, and Skirnismol, 27.
38. With this stanza the question-formula changes, and Othin’s
questions from this point on concern more or less directly the great
final struggle. Line 4 is presumably spurious. Njorth: on Njorth and
the Wanes, who gave him as a hostage to the gods at the end of their
war, cf. Voluspo, 21 and note.
40. In both manuscripts, apparently through the carelessness of some
older copyist, stanzas 40 and 41 are run together: “Eleventh answer me
well, what men in the home mightily battle each day? They fell each
other, and fare from the fight all healed full soon to sit.” Luckily
Snorri quotes stanza 41 in full, and the translation is from his
version. Stanza 40 should probably run something like this: “Eleventh
answer me well, | if thou knowest all / The fate that is fixed for
the gods: / What men are they | who in Othin’s home / Each day to
fight go forth?”
41. The heroes: those brought to Valhall by the Valkyries. After the
day’s fighting they are healed of their wounds and all feast together.
43. Nine worlds: cf. Voluspo, 2. Niflhel: “Dark-Hell.”
44. The mighty winter: Before the final destruction three winters
follow one another with no intervening summers.
45. Snorri quotes this stanza. Hoddmimir’s wood: probably this is the
ash-tree Yggdrasil, which is sometimes referred to as “Mimir’s Tree,”
because Mimir waters it from his well; cf. Voluspo, 27 and note, and
Svipdagsmol, 30 and note. Hoddmimir is presumably another name for
Mimir. Lif (“Life”) and Lifthrasir (“Sturdy of Life”?): nothing further
is known of this pair, from whom the new race of men is to spring.
46. Fenrir: there appears to be a confusion between the wolf Fenrir
(cf. Voluspo, 39 and note) and his son, the wolf Skoll, who steals the
sun (cf. Voluspo, 40 and note).
47. Snorri quotes this stanza. Alfrothul (“the Elf-Beam”): the sun.
49. Mogthrasir (“Desiring Sons”): not mentioned elsewhere in the Eddic
poems, or by Snorri. The maidens: apparently Norns, like the
“giant-maids” in Voluspo, 8. These Norns, however, are kindly to men.
50. Surt: cf. Voluspo, 52 and note.
51. Vithar: a son of Othin, who slays the wolf Fenrir; cf. Voluspo, 54
and note. Vali: the son whom Othin begot to avenge Baldr’s death; cf.
Voluspo, 33 and note. Mothi (“Wrath”) and Magni (“Might”): the sons of
the god Thor, who after his death inherit his famous hammer, Mjollnir.
Concerning this hammer cf. especially Thrymskvitha, passim. Vingnir
(“the Hurler”): Thor. Concerning his death cf. Voluspo, 56. This stanza
is quoted by Snorri.
53. The wolf: Fenrir; cf. Voluspo, 53 and 54.
54. His son: Baldr. Bugge changes lines 3–4 to run: “What did Othin
speak | in the ear of Baldr, / When to the bale-fire they bore
him?” For Baldr’s death cf. Voluspo, 32 and note. The question is, of
course, unanswerable save by Othin himself, and so the giant at last
recognizes his guest.
55. Fated: in stanza 19 Vafthruthnir was rash enough to wager his head
against his guest’s on the outcome of the contest of wisdom, so he
knows that his defeat means his death.
GRIMNISMOL
THE BALLAD OF GRIMNIR
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
The Grimnismol follows the Vafthruthnismol in the Codex Regius and is
also found complete in the Arnamagnæan Codex, where also it follows the
Vafthruthnismol. Snorri quotes over twenty of its stanzas.
Like the preceding poem, the Grimnismol is largely encyclopædic in
nature, and consists chiefly of proper names, the last forty-seven
stanzas containing no less than two hundred and twenty-five of these.
It is not, however, in dialogue form. As Müllenhoff pointed out, there
is underneath the catalogue of mythological names a consecutive and
thoroughly dramatic story. Othin, concealed under the name of Grimnir,
is through an error tortured by King Geirröth. Bound between two
blazing fires, he begins to display his wisdom for the benefit of the
king’s little son, Agnar, who has been kind to him. Gradually he works
up to the great final moment, when he declares his true name, or rather
names, to the terrified Geirröth, and the latter falls on his sword and
is killed.
For much of this story we do not have to depend on guesswork, for in
both manuscripts the poem itself is preceded by a prose narrative of
considerable length, and concluded by a brief prose statement of the
manner of Geirröth’s death. These prose notes, of which there are many
in the Eddic manuscripts, are of considerable interest to the student
of early literary forms. Presumably they were written by the compiler
to whom we owe the Eddic collection, who felt that the poems needed
such annotation in order to be clear. Linguistic evidence shows that
they were written in the twelfth or thirteenth century, for they
preserve none of the older word-forms which help us to date many of the
poems two or three hundred years earlier.
Without discussing in detail the problems suggested by these prose
passages, it is worth noting, first, that the Eddic poems contain
relatively few stanzas of truly narrative verse; and second, that all
of them are based on narratives which must have been more or less
familiar to the hearers of the poems. In other words, the poems seldom
aimed to tell stories, although most of them followed a narrative
sequence of ideas. The stories themselves appear to have lived in oral
prose tradition, just as in the case of the sagas; and the prose notes
of the manuscripts, in so far as they contain material not simply drawn
from the poems themselves, are relics of this tradition. The early
Norse poets rarely conceived verse as a suitable means for direct
story-telling, and in some of the poems even the simplest action is
told in prose “links” between dialogue stanzas.
The applications of this fact, which has been too often overlooked, are
almost limitless, for it suggests a still unwritten chapter in the
history of ballad poetry and the so-called “popular” epic. It implies
that narrative among early peoples may frequently have had a period of
prose existence before it was made into verse, and thus puts, for
example, a long series of transitional stages before such a poem as the
Iliad. In any case, the prose notes accompanying the Eddic poems prove
that in addition to the poems themselves there existed in the twelfth
century a considerable amount of narrative tradition, presumably in
prose form, on which these notes were based by the compiler.
Interpolations in such a poem as the Grimnismol could have been made
easily enough, and many stanzas have undoubtedly crept in from other
poems, but the beginning and end of the poem are clearly marked, and
presumably it has come down to us with the same essential outline it
had when it was composed, probably in the first half of the tenth
century.
King Hrauthung had two sons: one was called Agnar, and the other
Geirröth. Agnar was ten winters old, and Geirröth eight. Once they both
rowed in a boat with their fishing-gear to catch little fish; and the
wind drove them out into the sea. In the darkness of the night they
were wrecked on the shore; and going up, they found a poor peasant,
with whom they stayed through the winter. The housewife took care of
Agnar, and the peasant cared for Geirröth, and taught him wisdom. In
the spring the peasant gave him a boat; and when the couple led them to
the shore, the peasant spoke secretly with Geirröth. They had a fair
wind, and came to their father’s landing-place. Geirröth was forward in
the boat; he leaped up on land, but pushed out the boat and said, “Go
thou now where evil may have thee!” The boat drifted out to sea.
Geirröth, however, went up to the house, and was well received, but his
father was dead. Then Geirröth was made king, and became a renowned
man.
Othin and Frigg sat in Hlithskjolf and looked over all the worlds.
Othin said: “Seest thou Agnar, thy fosterling, how he begets children
with a giantess in the cave? But Geirröth, my fosterling, is a king,
and now rules over his land.” Frigg said: “He is so miserly that he
tortures his guests if he thinks that too many of them come to him.”
Othin replied that this was the greatest of lies; and they made a wager
about this matter. Frigg sent her maid-servant, Fulla, to Geirröth. She
bade the king beware lest a magician who was come thither to his land
should bewitch him, and told this sign concerning him, that no dog was
so fierce as to leap at him. Now it was a very great slander that King
Geirröth was not hospitable; but nevertheless he had them take the man
whom the dogs would not attack. He wore a dark-blue mantle and called
himself Grimnir, but said no more about himself, though he was
questioned. The king had him tortured to make him speak, and set him
between two fires, and he sat there eight nights. King Geirröth had a
son ten winters old, and called Agnar after his father’s brother. Agnar
went to Grimnir, and gave him a full horn to drink from, and said that
the king did ill in letting him be tormented without cause. Grimnir
drank from the horn; the fire had come so near that the mantle burned
on Grimnir’s back. He spake:
1. Hot art thou, fire! | too fierce by far;
Get ye now gone, ye flames!
The mantle is burnt, | though I bear it aloft,
And the fire scorches the fur.
2. ’Twixt the fires now | eight nights have I sat,
And no man brought meat to me,
Save Agnar alone, | and alone shall rule
Geirröth’s son o’er the Goths.
3. Hail to thee, Agnar! | for hailed thou art
By the voice of Veratyr;
For a single drink | shalt thou never receive
A greater gift as reward.
4. The land is holy | that lies hard by
The gods and the elves together;
And Thor shall ever | in Thruthheim dwell,
Till the gods to destruction go.
5. Ydalir call they | the place where Ull
A hall for himself hath set;
And Alfheim the gods | to Freyr once gave
As a tooth-gift in ancient times.
6. A third home is there, | with silver thatched
By the hands of the gracious gods:
Valaskjolf is it, | in days of old
Set by a god for himself.
7. Sökkvabekk is the fourth, | where cool waves flow,
And amid their murmur it stands;
There daily do Othin | and Saga drink
In gladness from cups of gold.
8. The fifth is Glathsheim, | and gold-bright there
Stands Valhall stretching wide;
And there does Othin | each day choose
The men who have fallen in fight.
9. Easy is it to know | for him who to Othin
Comes and beholds the hall;
Its rafters are spears, | with shields is it roofed,
On its benches are breastplates strewn.
10. Easy is it to know | for him who to Othin
Comes and beholds the hall;
There hangs a wolf | by the western door,
And o’er it an eagle hovers.
11. The sixth is Thrymheim, | where Thjazi dwelt,
The giant of marvelous might;
Now Skathi abides, | the god’s fair bride,
In the home that her father had.
12. The seventh is Breithablik; | Baldr has there
For himself a dwelling set,
In the land I know | that lies so fair,
And from evil fate is free.
13. Himinbjorg is the eighth, | and Heimdall there
O’er men holds sway, it is said;
In his well-built house | does the warder of heaven
The good mead gladly drink.