Poetic Edda - Thorpe Trans.
32. East sat the crone,
in Iárnvidir,
Fenrir´s progeny:
of all shall be
one especially
the moon’s devourer,
in a troll’s semblance.
33. He is sated with the last breath
of dying men;
the gods’ seat he
with red gore defiles:
swart is the sunshine then
for summers after;
all weather turns to storm.
Understand ye yet, or what?
34. There on a height sat,
striking a harp,
the giantess’s watch,
the joyous Egdir;
by him crowed,
in the bird-wood,
the bright red cock,
which Fialar hight.
35. Crowed o’er the Æsir
Gullinkambi,
which wakens heroes
with the sire of hosts;
but another crows
beneath the earth,
a soot-red cock,
in the halls of Hel.
36. I saw of Baldr,
the blood-stained god,
Odin’s son,
the hidden fate.
There stood grown up,
high on the plain,
slender and passing fair,
the mistletoe.
37. From that shrub was made,
as to me it seemed,
a deadly, noxious dart.
Hödr shot it forth;
But Frigg bewailed,
in Fensalir,
Valhall’s calamity.
Understand ye yet, or what?
38. Bound she saw lying,
under Hveralund,
a monstrous form,
to Loki like.
There sits Sigyn,
for her consort’s sake,
not right glad.
Understand ye yet, or what?
39. Then the Vala knew
the fatal bonds were twisting,
most rigid,
bonds from entrails made.
40. From the east a river falls,
through venom dales,
with mire and clods,
Slid is its name.
41. On the north there stood,
on Nida-fells,
a hall of gold,
for Sindri’s race;
and another stood
in Okolnir,
the Jötuns beer-hall
which Brimir hight.
42. She saw a hall standing,
far from the sun,
in Náströnd;
its doors are northward turned,
venom-drops fall
in through its apertures:
entwined is that hall
with serpent’s backs.
43. She there saw wading
the sluggish streams
bloodthirsty men
and perjurers,
and him who the ear beguiles
of another’s wife.
There Nidhögg sucks
the corpses of the dead;
the wolf tears men.
Understand ye yet, or what?
44. Further forward I see,
much can I say
of Ragnarök
and the gods´conflict.
45. Brothers shall fight,
and slay each other;
cousins shall
kinship violate.
The earth resounds,
the giantesses flee;
no man will
another spare.
46. Hard is it in the world,
great whoredom,
an axe age, a sword age,
sheilds will be cloven,
a wind age, a wolf age,
ere the world sinks.
47. Mim’s sons dance,
but the central tree takes fire,
at the resounding
Gjallar-horn.
Loud blows Heimdall,
his horn is raised;
Odin speaks
with Mim’s head.
48. Trembles Yggdrasil’s
ash yet standing;
groans that aged tree,
and the jötun is loosed.
Loud bays Garm
before the Gnupa-cave,
his bonds he rends asunder;
and the wolf runs.
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