Skáldskaparmál

101


     Yet has Mímir's friend
     On me bestowed
     Amends of evil
     Which I account better.

     He has given me the art-
     He, the Wolf's Opposer,
     Accustomed to battle,-
     Of blemish blameless.

Here he is called High God, and Friend of Mímir, and Adversary of the Wolf.
Thus sang Refr:

     Swift God of Slain, that wieldeth
     The snowy billow's wave-hawks,
     The ships that drive the sea-road,
     To thee we owe the dwarves' drink.

Thus sang Einarr Tinkling-Scale:

     'T is mine to pour the liquor
     Of the Host-God's mead-cask freely
     Before the ships' swift Speeder:
     For this I win no scorning.

Thus sang Úlfr Uggason:

     His steed the lordly Heimdallr
     Spurs to the pyre gods builded
     For the fallen son of Odin,
     The All-Wise Raven-Ruler.




102

This is said in Eiríksmál:

     What dream is that? quoth Odin,-
     I thought to rise ere day-break
     To make Valhall ready
     For troops of slain;
     I roused the champions,
     Bade them rise swiftly
     Benches to strew,
     To wash beer-flagons;
     The Valkyrs to pour wine,
     As a Prince were coming.

Kormákr sang this:

     I pray the precious Ruler
     Of Yngvi's people, o'er me
     To hold his hand, bow-shaking.
     Hroptr bore with him Gungnir.

Thórálfr sang this:

     The Mighty One of Hlidskjálf
     Spake his mind unto them
     Where the hosts of fearless
     Hárekr were slaughtered.

Thus sang Eyvindr:

     The mead which forth
     From Surtr's sunk dales
     The Strong-through-spells
     Swift-flying bore.




103

So sang Bragi:

     'Tis seen, on my shield's surface,
     How the Son of the Father of Peoples
     Craved to try his strength full swiftly
     'Gainst the rain-beat Snake earth-circling.

Thus sang Eínarr:

     Since less with Bestla's Offspring
     Prevail most lordly princes
     Than thou, my task is singing
     Thy praise in songs of battle.

Thus sang Thorvaldr Blending-Skald:

     Now have I much
     In the middle grasped
     Of the son of Borr,
     Of Búri's heir.


III. "Now you shall hear how the skalds have termed the art of poesy in these
metaphorical phrases which have been recorded before: for example, by calling
it Kvasir's Gore and Ship of the Dwarves, Dwarves' Mead, Mead of the Æsir,
Giants' Father-Ransom, Liquor of Ódrerir and of Bodn and of Són, and Fullness
of these, Liquor of Hnitbjörg, Booty and Find and Gift of Odin, even as has
been sung in these verses which Einarr Tinkling-Scale wrought:

     I pray the high-souled Warder
     Of earth to hear the Ocean
     Of the Cliff of Dwarves, my verses:
     Hear, Earl, the Gore of Kvasir.




104

And as Einarr Tinkling-Scale sang further:

     The Dwarves' Crag's Song-wave rushes
     O'er all the dauntless shield-host
     Of him who speeds the fury
     Of the shield-wall's piercing sword-bane.

Even as Ormr Steinthórsson sang:

     The body of the dame
     And my dead be borne
     Into one hall; the Drink
     Of Dvalinn, Franklins, hear.

And as Refr sang:

     I reveal the Thought's Drink
     Of the Rock-Folk to Thorsteinn;
     The Billow of the Dwarf-Crag
     Plashes; I bid men hearken.

Even as Egill sang:

     The Prince requires my lore,
     And bound his praise to pour,
     Odin's Mead I bore
     To English shore.

And as Glúmr Geirason sang:

     Let the Princely Giver hearken:
     I hold the God-King's liquor:




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