Mary Taylor

“KRÁKUMÁL

[...]

25. We struck with our swords!
My soul is glad, for I know
that Balder’s father’s benches
for a banquet are made ready.
We’ll toss back toasts of ale
from bent trees of the skulls;
no warrior bewails his death
in the wondrous house of Fjolnir.
Not one word of weakness
will I speak in Vidrir’s hall.

26. We struck with our swords!
The sons of Aslaug all would
rouse the wrath of Hild here
with their ruthless sword-blades,
if they fathomed fully
how far I have traveled,
how so many serpents
stab me with their poison.
My son’s hearts will help them:
they have their mother’s lineage.

27. We struck with our swords!
Soon my life is ended;
Goinn scathes me sorely,
settles in my heart’s hall;
I wish the wand of Vidrir
would wound Æelle, one day.
My sons must feel great fury
that their father is put to death;
my daring swains won’t suffer
in silence when they hear this.

28. We struck with our swords!
I have stood in the ranks
at fifty-one folk-battles,
foremost in the lance-meet.
Never did I dream that
a different king should ever
be found braver than me—
I bloodied spears when young.
Æsir will ask us to feast;
no anguish for my death.

29. I desire my death now.
The disir call me home,
whom Herjan hastens onward
from his hall, to take me.
On the high bench, boldly,
beer I’ll drink with the Gods;
hope of life is lost now—
laughing shall I die!”
― Ben Waggoner, The Sagas of Ragnar Lodbrok