The Rímur of Fertrami and Plató

Ten rímur by Sigurður Breiðfjörð (1798–1846), first published in 1836 from Viðeyjarklaustur press alongside his Jómsvíkingarímur. The tale follows Prince Sertram (Fertrami) and his brother Plató, sons of King Artus of Frankland, through a chivalric romance of troll-caves in the Dovre mountains, enchanted swords, sea-battles against the Emperor of Assyria, rescue from captivity, and the weddings that end all good sagas. The cycle has never been translated into English.

Breiðfjörð was one of the last great rímur poets — a wandering versifier who composed for public performance in the old manner. Each ríma opens with a mansöngur (love-prelude) addressed to his beloved Rósa, ranging from brief courtship-verses to the fifteen-stanza meditation on poetry itself that opens the final ríma. The cycle's economy is devastating: eight rímur of wandering resolved in a forty-stanza denouement where every thread comes home, and then five words — "Úti er þessi Saga" — Finished is this Saga.

First known English translation of any portion of the Fertrami og Plató rímur. Translated from Old/Middle Icelandic by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026. Source text transcribed from the 1836 Viðeyjarklaustur first edition (Fraktur typeface), staged locally from Internet Archive scan.

Fyrsta Ríma

The poet's mansöngur, the court of King Artus, a hunt for a gleaming stag, and the first descent into the otherworld.

Mansöngur

I.

The free falcon of verse awakens,
hoping to display its arts —
the thread of poems loosens thereby
from the tales of craftsmen.

II.

Often the good goddess of song
offers delight to men;
where pleasant poems are sung,
all companies are charmed.

III.

To you now, with heart and mind,
Norn of poems, I call —
for you are almighty
to make the noble dance resound.

IV.

Be beside me, faltering youth,
work the blow of song;
soften and tighten the harp-string
so that it sounds aright.

V.

A whole saga I promise now
to play upon the giant's harp —
with your direction then,
for strength supports the weak.

VI.

Let the people rest in spirit,
glad above the offered floods;
grant me to fashion a tune
and swell with fair sounds.

VII.

When the wave of anguish overwhelms them,
bringing death from the cliffs,
let the sore mist of sorrow
sing in every string.

VIII.

When foes fall and blood crashes
on the hard-fought grounds,
let you ring this sound forth,
so the harp trembles beneath.

IX.

Then shall the people rightly praise
the place of Thunder's cup;
why should Rósa not see it right —
that fair I sing my verse.

X.

She shall be the clasp of my sorrow's thread —
my mind it gladdens;
she shall redeem my troubles
with embraces and kisses of mead.

XI.

Let us raise the sounds of verse aloft,
no more to delay here.
The saga comes then thus,
as you shall hear.

The Court of Artus

XII.

Artus I name, the golden king,
who wielded a gilded blade —
the great-wealthy ruler governed
the realm of Frankland.

XIII.

Ingibjörg the cheerful lord
won as his wedded bride;
she was the daughter of that prince,
Hálfdan, son of Eystein.

XIV.

All the folk in Frankish lands
followed Christian ways;
the prince sat in the capital
which is called Euphratana.

XV.

It is told: the king's wife,
when her time drew near,
bore him a fair son
who received the name Sertram.

XVI.

When eight years had passed
and the time seemed fitting,
the Skjöldung's son was sent to school,
trained there in learning.

XVII.

Three years he spent in that place,
receiving book-learning;
the prince mastered well
the rides and arts of knights.

XVIII.

The queen then bore a daughter next —
the maiden Áslaug is called;
to that fair-robed child the Skjöldung
granted a beautiful voice.

XIX.

A throng of lads and power's support
they set to guard the maiden;
the king's queen then brought forth
a third child after.

XX.

Plató he was called, who bore honour,
shepherd of the lady's tears;
when he was born, Sertram
was reckoned fifteen years.

XXI.

A castle was built and gilded
in the court of the pure Sifling;
Sertram sat there, bold in fame,
and had a host of retainers.

XXII.

From noble families he drew to him
wise hero-men;
one was most famed of them all —
him we call Haki.

XXIII.

A duke's son was he,
a wise warrior of the rim;
in Alexandria
his whole estate stood.

XXIV.

The Skjöldung's son rode the paths
to divert himself in his days;
so a long time passed onward
with luck and honour's ease.

XXV.

The ruler's son's honour spread high
throughout the world's halls;
Plató also increased in years,
a paragon among men.

XXVI.

Vilhjálm I name, the bold king,
who was Akti's brother —
over Russia he governed,
a generous lord of goodness.

XXVII.

The prince's son was named Mátur,
Maxíanus the Strong —
he yielded to no knight,
clad in the war-god's shirt.

The Hunt

XXVIII.

Now this shall be told of Sertram:
he set out upon the road.
With him had the bold one then
a company of thirty lads.

XXIX.

Long through the day on the winding path,
the company chased the fox;
game aplenty came to hand,
but the weather darkened in delay.

XXX.

The Sifling's kinsman saw a stag
roaming through the forest clearings —
all its hide was gleaming bright,
so that beams of light stood forth.

XXXI.

Two took to riding furiously
on the twisting, blinding trail,
for they had swift horses:
my Sertram and Haki.

XXXII.

The beast they followed fast,
eagerly seeking through weariness;
up they came in sudden haste
into the wilderness waste.

XXXIII.

Both their steeds then collapsed,
the great horses spent with exhaustion;
darkness fell now thickly down —
the men could see nothing at all.

XXXIV.

On foot they ran far, striving
to reach the mountain-peaks;
Haki turned to the prince's kinsman:
"What can be causing this?"

The Mountain Lore

XXXV.

Sertram answered thus in turn:
"This is beyond our will —
I know that we are beset
by evil trolls' deceit."

XXXVI.

Haki framed his answer then:
"We cannot flee from this,
but one of us shall buy our fame
at the full price."

XXXVII.

"No help is the boast of courage,"
the prince's son declared —
"against us they shall work their spells,
the fell spirits of the mountains."

XXXVIII.

"Tireless are the Dovre mountains,
as we now can see;
Eldgríður is a fearsome troll —
here she has come to dwell.

XXXIX.

"Foul, murky, slippery-grey,
hump-backed with a stony hide,
a dragon-shape she wears besides —
the fiend ever more terrible.

XL.

"At once, in a single flash,
between the world's far ends,
she hides many a good treasure —
the great evil sorceress."

XLI.

"She can also work harsh enchantments
when she has need —
though she be now at peace,
she has a mate.

XLII.

"Skrímnir I name, the sturdy wraith —
the beast rages far;
he hides himself in rocky mounds,
in the guise of troll-kind.

XLIII.

"On his breast hangs the villain's burden,
blood-thick is the brute's hide;
the thrall has suffered in his lair
these thirty years.

XLIV.

"They begat a son: Sám,
the worst of all creatures —
higher than the heath's peaks he stands,
the greatest bane of men.

XLV.

"Irsa is the ugly-faced,
the couple's only daughter;
twelve giants with threatening roar
dwell with them in the cave."

The Cave

XLVI.

Now as the two spoke of this,
the night grew dark around them;
to the entrance of a cave
both had come at last.

XLVII.

They saw a giant sitting by a fire,
boiling broth from horse-bones;
the tusked one began to speak,
deep within the cave's walls:

XLVIII.

"Sertram! Come into the mountain-hall —
there you shall meet your nature.
The other of you I shall roast,
and one I'll boil in the kettle."

XLIX.

"Such a greeting you give us!"
Sertram answered, laughing.
"A monstrous welcome you prepare
for the travellers' refreshment."

L.

He straightened himself and rose to his legs,
the broad-shouldered hero;
the giant struck at the bold man —
seeming fierce in his anger.

LI.

Likewise twelve more giants rose
and attacked the brave ones;
hard around the cave's floor
the others drew their blades.

LII.

Sertram takes on Sám himself —
they set upon each other in fury;
while Haki went against the rest,
to hew the wretches down.

LIII.

Twelve attacked him hard
and hewed from every side;
Haki the bold defended himself
well and manfully.

LIV.

Now at Sám his sword he swung —
the famed blade came down;
the blow rang upon that hide,
but seemed to do no harm.

LV.

Jaw-stump and Fjálfastian —
the branch cut the spears;
Sám, like my Malchus,
lost his right ear.

LVI.

This enraged the giant greatly,
the evil mountain-fiend;
with terrible voice he seized the upper hand,
and fury shook the hall.

LVII.

He leapt aloft from the heap,
the prince's famed descendant;
a cliff-sized beam he hurled —
the pillar crashed face-down.

LVIII.

The thrall bent to seize the beam
and thought to strike again,
but the blow shattered through his skull —
and there he lies dead.

The Ogress

LIX.

Haki wished to join the weapon-dance,
the fame-seeking man,
but a woman struck from behind his shoulders —
a blow upon him falls.

LX.

Flat he fell upon the mountain floor,
the famed shield-bearer;
blood gushed forth from his mouth —
yet quickly he rose again.

LXI.

The shining wound-band to the warrior
then was applied;
fast in the soul's song,
Sertram sprang to action.

LXII.

The ogress pressed upon him then —
the mighty one strained to hold;
her claws tore at his body,
rending flesh from bone.

LXIII.

Forward to the fire she dragged the famed one,
carrying her prize with her;
into foul earth, fierce and vile,
he sank up to his knees.

LXIV.

Wrestling he tried in the mountain-hall,
knowing the strength of his hands;
his fingers barely found a grip —
to stand against her.

LXV.

Swimming in blood, Haki came
into the cave towards the fire;
he meant to help the good man rise,
steeled with his remaining strength.

LXVI.

He had felled all twelve of them,
the rock-dwelling wolves of darkness —
yet he wished to rush onward through the field
to save his bright companion.

LXVII.

The sharp-biting blade he fought with still,
its point in the weapon-storm;
yet the edge could find no purchase
against the prince's foe.

LXVIII.

At the threshold the weary warrior,
with blows was driven to swoon;
the cave-fiend raged against him —
he went to wrestle with her.

LXIX.

The hero of the battle-field strove,
defending with his fists for a time;
but he had to sink, exhausted then,
everywhere beneath the ogress.

LXX.

Sertram straightened himself once more —
the stubborn warrior rose;
with fierce grappling power
he pressed the ugly giantess thrice.

LXXI.

The steel-armed hero gained the upper hand
with golden wrestling-holds upon her;
forward to the fire the worthy man
dragged her, and would burn her.

LXXII.

She begged for quarter then,
the horror-stricken troll-wife.
Here I rest my mind upon myself —
here ends the First Ríma.

Önnur Ríma

Sertram and Haki explore the troll-cave, find treasure, and encounter its monstrous guardians.

Mansöngur

I.

I shall try, if youths will listen,
to weave together saga-verse —
may the labour please the mind.

II.

The giver of the people's ice seized me,
that forth I laid the story-thread;
in trial he led me then.

III.

Let us hurry, when truth goes to read
my holy veil of fame —
may the path turn aright.

IV.

Though I would, it is my duty too
to shorten one hour of toil
for noble youths of famous mind.

V.

Likewise as reward — whoever reddens a verse,
bowing the ear to poems —
unwilling would I have them displeased.

VI.

Alone I brood within the fair hall-room;
the glove would fare no worse
were Rósa come to me here.

VII.

If that pure one of noble youths would come
and sit beside me now,
much better would things be then.

VIII.

But that is not so, for now fame governs —
scarcely would my will be heard,
though the verse be steered aright.

IX.

So it goes that saga-reading dulls,
and poems stir but little —
for there is no wit in this.

X.

Though from the writing pours a torrent,
let it stand — if it does not,
let it do no harm to me.

XI.

Away with idle talk — bare-headed, back again!
A holy saga I take in hand,
and thus I wake the song of praise.

XII.

The ogress begged that the warrior be clothed and armed —
he said No! and declared:
in no way shall you have that!

XIII.

You shall burn and feel the brotherhood of pain —
at that moment she struck at him;
save yourself, foul one, again!

XIV.

All things I am willing to do — speaks the foul one —
I will repay with faithful oath,
if I may keep my life now.

XV.

The thane declares: this fighting shall cease,
if she renders honest thanks —
and so he quickly tended the wounds.

XVI.

Also a sword and all equipment prepared,
the best in the world, as you know,
and the finest horse you shall bring me.

XVII.

Let your mother give me counsel for the good —
in the matter of the sword-edge's sun,
or else the proud one burns now.

XVIII.

This she vows not to change —
he warmed the brands in the cave-hall,
and then let her stand.

XIX.

Night falls; Haki, that warrior's companion,
drifts from the wave of ordeal —
all beaten with wounds he was.

XX.

Ancient things were seen in the great cave-door:
a dragon's skin hung there,
a sight to frighten bold men.

XXI.

From there came the mighty ogress of the mountains —
she was tall and terrible,
threading her path through dark cliffs.

XXII.

The younger one brought her mother's greeting,
asked for tidings from on high —
the mother began to recount the tale.

XXIII.

She repeats the vow-words to her mother,
the protectress who dwelt with the famous —
she wondered, but yet she spoke:

XXIV.

In the hour of fortune you sought the meeting —
faithful, I know, is my daughter;
she is able to keep her vow.

XXV.

With trusted skill she tended Haki's wounds —
the cliff-ogress with healing,
then laid him in a gentle bed.

XXVI.

She brought a drinking-horn to both the warriors —
a great dragon-vessel lay below;
no harm did they find then.

XXVII.

They slept peacefully, and so the night passed —
Sjóla dressed in the morning,
and food was set upon the table.

XXVIII.

A wise descendant of lords took measure,
led the foal for the famous man
forth into the tented hall.

XXIX.

He was full of bright gold,
wine, provisions, and weapons too,
beautiful garments and bridal-silver.

XXX.

One man there chose to lie upon a bench —
not fair was he, grown great;
his eyes he bore with ill restraint.

XXXI.

The terrible villain covered himself in clothes,
his nose stretched among bristly tufts —
the villain snored in deepest sleep.

XXXII.

Who is this? — the hero managed to ask —
who endures the cold of plunder:
That is Skrámur, my husband!

XXXIII.

The hero asks to send them a horse —
heartily glad I accept, she says,
the mighty rescue-woman speaks.

XXXIV.

A ring the mighty cliff-ogress takes —
at that meeting Sjóla fell asleep
in the fair den of rest.

XXXV.

Power follows the fair wave of fortune;
whoever spreads his hand upon it,
hunger shall not harm his tooth.

XXXVI.

Three days they stayed in rest —
wholly healed was Haki's wound;
homeward then they chose to ride.

XXXVII.

She managed to offer them good horses —
then next they rode for home;
the gentle prince welcomed them.

XXXVIII.

A whole month the protectors stayed,
strong at home they waited then —
next they ride the path again.

XXXIX.

Wise Sertram went, and Haki too,
to Eldgríður's cave-home —
she welcomes them with kindness.

XL.

She gives war-clothing to the wolf-father,
turns the hilt with mercy;
the maiden-strand began to speak:

XLI.

I have sought your good and famous fortune,
and the many-skilled steps of luck
forth into the champion's keep.

XLII.

Next the maid led to the prince's heir
a gilded steed she chose to bring
with golden riding-gear.

XLIII.

This horse, the best in the world for journeys —
the steed is called Búfsiþal,
which the ring-giver shall receive.

XLIV.

The prince's heir managed to give thanks
and pay this thread of trial —
from there he rode back home.

XLV.

He sat in Sjóla's ordered courtyard,
among the finest youths and verse —
the splendour held for a time.

XLVI.

His youths he now bids prepare,
and out he wants to ride the wolf's path —
one day on a hunt through the forest.

XLVII.

Then wise Haki began to counsel:
all war-gear I want us to carry —
glad in the open, armed we go.

XLVIII.

If evil things should come to hand,
the more cautious the famous shall be —
Sertram gave his answer then:

XLIX.

Alone on journeys, no great peril —
though we set off on steadfast road;
it is enough that we carry swords.

L.

However, to the place the glad warriors rode —
Haki takes the war-gear
and his own hilt-wand besides.

LI.

The thanes ride then through wide paths —
one man comes toward them,
and quickly he approaches.

LII.

On a sturdy horse, clothed in lordly garb,
thither through the wolf-sea riding —
all covered in blood he was.

LIII.

Sertram greets him with fair words,
asks the clean one to declare his name —
the stranger began to tell his tale.

LIV.

He will not hide himself and says he is
one who fled from enemies —
from the wrath of hasty foes.

LV.

Sertram says: tell your own name,
and what trouble is on your hands —
the shield-protector heeds him well.

LVI.

Here you may see, Germóð, says the warrior,
the prince's heir from afar —
from the kingdoms of India.

LVII.

I heard widely of your fame and glory,
and on the golden wave of fortune
I wished to seek your company.

LVIII.

Here by the land I found a man in need —
under the sunset then
I met three dark men.

LIX.

Brothers are the blue-men, here they came —
each received their name in turn:
Prestur, Rastor, Eyvindur.

LX.

Eight thousand in the battle of edges they prepared —
the blue-men with enchanted gear;
they came to test the sword.

LXI.

At me they came — I with reddened brand
took to cutting the troll-folk down;
the ground trembles and blood runs.

LXII.

All my companions fell —
from the weariness of danger I dragged myself,
struck by many wounds, yet living.

LXIII.

Good Lord! Avenge the battle of shields —
cut down the destroyers of my men;
wound the hard host of thralls.

LXIV.

Then thoughtful Haki began to speak:
let us ride quickly to the fortress —
prepare an army for the shield-fight.

LXV.

The king's son declares: champions shall suffice,
though the battle grow ever fierce —
let us ride at once, then.

LXVI.

This they heeded, and all rode forth —
and Hermóður went ahead,
the spirited one testing his steed.

LXVII.

The whole army was made ready for the sight —
the hardened ones join the thralls' ranks;
the queen's attendants stood in three.

LXVIII.

Banners stream and giants rise, terrible;
Haki strikes each one in turn,
with hands that seize the lot.

LXIX.

Then spirited Hermóður,
he lets his horse run into their host —
the war-men begin to speak:

LXX.

Sertram! Now you shall be fully tested —
I may well lower your glory;
so speaks my Lord likewise.

LXXI.

You, noble one! You let yourself be fooled —
the greatest fool and vagabond you are;
that is seen clearly by all.

LXXII.

Then he calls all his men:
seize the valiant ones with your hands —
bind them at once in hard bonds!

LXXIII.

Sertram goes — deceived in trust,
filled with courage he rode forth;
the good folk he set upon their course.

LXXIV.

First Hermóð strikes — the treacherous fiend —
the full length of the man, and more;
the blade knew its way there.

LXXV.

The steed fell dead upon the ground —
betrayal's payment sent unto the people;
so goes the heathen age.

LXXVI.

Now the multitude of men moved through the ways.
From the sound I shyly draw back —
and so I cleanly end the verses.

LXXVII.

Wait for the craft — gentle ones, listen, people!
The choice of poems is not yet done;
receive the song-chant soon.

Þriðja Ríma

The great battle in the cave, the fall of Sertram, Haki's escape, and the king's grief.

Mansöngur

I.

Again I shall set the song to sail
from the verse-shed, struggling forth —
the goddess weeps if none would wish
to hear my sounds resounding.

II.

To idle and sleep wearies me,
the winter's mask is dark —
with trolls and perils I was here,
wrestling in the night.

III.

The lyre went to its seat with that,
ascending wisdom's peak —
I carried it out to the yard,
into the northern dark.

IV.

I saw a dragon gliding near,
soon toward my dwelling —
half the sky he filled at home,
he with his spreading wings.

V.

Froth he spewed from his throat,
his tail swelled with fury —
a terrible sight of double kind,
before the monster's roaring.

VI.

Forward he dragged across the flood,
the hall's pillar shaking —
I thought, and stood amazed:
here is more than a dream.

VII.

It is Hólmgríður the evil,
in her garb of torment —
if her spells should reach me,
then woe to my people!

VIII.

More clearly I perceive now
what the great dragon did —
it was Norðri the monster,
the mighty ruler of winds.

IX.

He shook wealth from secret fields,
from the land's hidden stores —
he shook the land and stirred the sea,
the cliffs sang at the brow.

X.

She saw us riding homeward,
settled for the winter —
but since Hólmgríður came there,
things began to look better!

XI.

Give me silence, warriors, quickly,
while I lay the verse in order —
now I raise the third part:
here comes the Saga.

The Battle

XII.

The ring of glory met there,
my verses drawing to their end —
the thralls struck a bristling ring
around the reddened field.

XIII.

The swords rang, curses flew,
some received their death —
mail-coats were rent and blood ran
across the warrior's cheek.

XIV.

The Blue Men's host across the earth
sank among the wounded groves —
the army's multitude was broken,
blood rained from their wounds.

XV.

All the son of Sjóli's men
fell dead thereafter —
the storm of swords was fierce still,
blades shrieking against shields.

XVI.

Haki stood alone beside
the prince's famous kin —
many were struck down by blades
in the blinding fury of battle.

XVII.

Now Sjóli's son rode forward,
drenched in blood, blade to shield —
many a horse he sprinkled red,
his strokes dealing death.

XVIII.

Helmets shattered past all peace,
many received their end —
the battle-line broke wide open,
fire consumed the field.

XIX.

Now from Haki the host received
hard steel in battle's rain —
his sword cut through bone and shield,
through every rank of men.

Haki Against Rastor

XX.

He wielded the landing's fire,
the famous tumult of blades —
on gilded shields the sword crashed down,
and armor shattered to pieces.

XXI.

Among the fallen, blood was cast,
seized in the gate of war —
fierce was the fury of blood,
up to the shield's hot surface.

XXII.

At dreadful cost therefore
Rastor managed to strike —
both horses in the shoulders,
the sword's teeth bit deep.

XXIII.

So on foot they fought it out,
warriors of the heath —
Haki the worthy raised his golden spear
and struck the stubborn foe.

XXIV.

The edge bites not at all
through the evil troll's might —
Haki strikes at him head-on,
and with bare hands he seized him.

XXV.

The foe will not fall,
fiercely tormenting —
blows across the broad shoulders then
Haki received from the other.

XXVI.

His good mail-coat avails him not,
yet quickly Haki stands —
against this foe once more,
the stubborn one stretches out his hands.

XXVII.

Three times from the saddle
the sword-wielder strikes, driving —
half the giant's stiff frame he broke,
then seized the dark horse.

XXVIII.

He mounts the pale horse's back
and rides across the land —
the clash of weapons fades behind,
as Haki cuts his way.

Sertram's Fall

XXIX.

Sertram swift, bearing his blade,
drives the rogues' band before him —
he comes where Prostur stands,
and thunderous hardship wakes.

XXX.

The wretch cannot harm
the prince's famous kin —
the master of hands strikes Prostur,
and clears a path through the thralls.

XXXI.

He would have met a wretched end,
the dark hero undone —
but then Eyvindur arrived there,
against the prince's rightful heir.

XXXII.

The red sword struck then,
driven into the villain's spirit —
ready for death, the wretch withered,
and saw himself undone.

XXXIII.

The ancient wretch knew spells,
against the ember's edge —
he blew from his fist a ring of thorns:
Herjan's broad flame.

XXXIV.

The warrior could scarcely fight,
his weapons useless now —
the thralls' multitude advanced,
in a grim storm of war.

XXXV.

The king's heir was hard-pressed,
surrounded and driven back —
ten of the thrall-folk fell each time,
slain by his unarmed fists.

XXXVI.

Now the multitude pressed in,
the bloody host advancing —
in sore trial and hardship then,
the warrior was tormented.

XXXVII.

Captured he becomes across the field,
worn by trial and harm —
the thrall-folk bind him tightly,
chains upon the brave man.

Haki's Escape

XXXVIII.

When Haki saw this —
that the gentle thane had fallen —
he turned upon the straight road,
riding from the treachery.

XXXIX.

Then they hastened to the ships,
readying for the voyage —
Sertram they took bound along,
and fastened sail to mast.

XL.

Haki made his way home to the castle,
the brave one, blood-washed —
great sorrow he awakened
with the news he bore.

XLI.

All the truth he told outright,
the gentle lord of gold —
they asked the man himself then:
these scoundrels — whence were they?

The Revelation

XLII.

Then brave Haki spoke:
"Heed me, wise assembly —
they are craven thralls
from the goodly land of India."

XLIII.

"A cave-ruler commands them —
Hólmgríður the hateful —
a cauldron of spells, a truce-breaking troll
who practices sacrifice and seiðr."

XLIV.

"With ancient, evil power
she furthers every wrong —
forward and back around the world's ring
she lets her shape-shifting go."

XLV.

"The ancient giant's famous line
took her as their bride —
with cunning arts he holds his court,
a threat to all who stride."

XLVI.

"The worst host held the stronghold,
wielders of cruel war —
Rastor, Eyvindur, and Prostur
the thralls are called."

XLVII.

"A fortress they were given to rule
in the serpent's sandy realm —
a third of all India's land
the evil ones hold."

XLVIII.

"Countless thrall-folk
have come together there —
blue men, fiendish, filled with fury,
swelling their mighty host."

XLIX.

"The Emperor, adorned with red gold,
rules over Assyria —
none like him in all the world,
noble in bloom and glory."

L.

"Two daughters fate gave him,
the ruler of a noble people —
many think much
of their accomplishments and beauty."

LI.

"Famous is the one, Stóríðá,
among crowned women foremost —
and Rósíðá the fair,
the most magnificent young bride."

LII.

"This I learned of Germóð,
the betrayer of your son —
he asked for the fair Rósíðá
to take her for his wife."

LIII.

"The bride consented sweetly,
but it was so arranged:
that Sertram the noble should have her —
and Germóð fell when battle was tried."

LIV.

"But this he dared not face
with strength alone to bear —
so with treachery he captured
the bold one, your kinsman."

LV.

"I know the brothers, grim in spirit,
who bore their shields in battle —
they will carry him in chains
to the lands of Assyria."

The King's Counsel

LVI.

"To avenge the golden prince,
send warriors across the wave —
young swords shall find their mark,
for those who hold the will."

LVII.

"But I suspect the wealthy Sjóli
will not yield his counsel —
for he will never without a fight
deliver them into their hands."

LVIII.

Silence fell at the golden hall,
and Haki ceased his tale —
the old king rose before the assembly
and raised his voice to speak:

LIX.

"Old age weighs upon me,
O my friend and glory!
Otherwise I should myself
ride to settle this."

LX.

"Let Haki raise the army now,
mustered across the land —
let every man take up his blade
who has the cause to fight."

LXI.

"I will send four worthy men
to Vilhjálm my brother,
with warriors of the sword —
along with his own champions."

LXII.

"You shall lead this company,
thunder of the field —
and send my son to me,
if fate wills it so."

LXIII.

To this oath Haki swore,
and a band of messengers
found Vilhjálm the merry lord
and raised the matter true.

LXIV.

The king summoned the mighty one,
the heir they call the great —
Marsíanus is his name,
fit for the task of war.

The Voyage

LXV.

"Go now, noble one,
to seek your kinsman —
eight thousand strong the army for you,
to bring this strife to an end."

LXVI.

He seized his sword and went aboard,
the prince bade his farewell —
the wind's breath caught the sail,
and outward stretched the dove.

LXVII.

The keel turned the surging sea,
they bound the wind's garments —
before the prow lay Frakkland,
the ship steered into harbor.

LXVIII.

He went to the hall and found Haki,
the warrior ready and waiting —
he called the army together,
summoned to the heavy task.

LXIX.

Together with the heroes' banner
they held their counsel —
thirty thousand men
both lords had between them.

LXX.

From the harbor out to sea,
all bonds loosened —
the sails stretched over the deep,
and the wind's garments breathed.

LXXI.

I release them homeward in fair wind,
to rush forth for a time —
I shall hear the news at home;
here ends the Ríma.

Fjórða Ríma

Plató grows to manhood, vows to rescue his brother, and prepares for the journey.

Mansöngur

I.

I sit once more to the saga-verse —
thus it goes for me —
let men and maidens give silence
while the harp is struck.

II.

I know, the worthy company says,
their patience too extends to this —
that wool-workers struggle at their craft —
it would be far better for me.

III.

Yet from myself I get nothing —
no wool to take at day's end —
rather I drift on the sea of verse
though it is said there may be storm.

IV.

Yet though I fill the stern
with the cargo that comes in,
never does one lose one's share
aboard my battle-boat.

V.

In the breast one may know me thereby,
though great storms compose their fury —
wise is the one who steers
these verses as I sail.

VI.

That is then my spectacle —
though dark, and the dog's wine breaks —
that a sharp judge may school me
when my work's quality is examined.

VII.

The mansöngur's place, here where I sit,
may now be ended and laid aside —
for a witless man it would be
who wished to hear more of it.

Narrative

VIII.

Again to my subject I sit —
three brothers shall be remembered:
thralls rode the launching-horse
on the bowing land's road.

IX.

Sertram bound they brought along,
concealing the kinsman as they went —
the wave at times gave itself to roaring,
driving the sea-steed at a gallop.

X.

The wave's brow raised the steed
yet at times split asunder —
the billows crashed in spray
and foam spat upon the breast.

XI.

Along the broad path of the sea he ran,
never giving himself rest,
until he completed the course —
Assyria's harbors nigh.

XII.

The brothers then across the sea's floor
bound in purse the angry steed —
home to ride to the hall of twelve
to bring greeting to the King.

XIII.

No pleasant vagabonds were those —
a snare to entrap the headdressed women —
they wished to be heard above all —
I shall try to illuminate them.

XIV.

Norn of verses! let me see —
illuminate them for me now!
I know the truth of those dark ones —
see what thou hast before thee.

XV.

Your pure and holy sight
hides from no creation —
through stones, mountains, and lands
the fair jewel of your eyelids shines.

XVI.

Not a hair upon his head he bore —
a rough spike hung from the crown —
the forehead was swollen with warts,
the brows long, black, and ugly.

XVII.

Great was his overbearing cowardice —
he set the forest-brows open wide,
like the glare of a rock-pool
where the chamois leaps.

XVIII.

The long brows dark and stern
hid the light of the eyes —
with threefold horror beauty was marred
by the devil's great nose.

XIX.

In wicked glassy lips
there was no heart to see —
protruding fangs the creature bore,
the dark bristle lay upon his breast.

XX.

Moving with broad rings,
nails hung before his palate —
grinning broadly, Prostur then
began with a giant's voice:

XXI.

"Germóð sends his careful greeting —
Lord King! I tell you:
Sertram in the land of the Franks
he felled — that we have seen.

XXII.

"So that you believe this —
and along with your wise daughter —
Sertram is now in chains,
brought here into the citadel.

XXIII.

"Germóð found him in his dwelling,
tried in Hel's chains —
and your daughter's betrothal-word
he pledged beforehand to me.

XXIV.

"This prize I demand now —
that without hesitation she be given to me —
the treasure of that land,
Stóríðá as she is called.

XXV.

"Swift Eyvindur of fortune —
your other daughter he shall have —
I know each worthy man
will marry them beyond all hope."

XXVI.

Their claims the Emperor heard —
the king speaks back swiftly:
"With peace the sword shall rest —
with hope, sleep first tonight."

XXVII.

The enemies ride to their tents —
they took rest, and in the morning
the wise king plays a careful game,
to his worthy men he told his plan.

XXVIII.

To the king's feast came many men —
they found what was prepared —
and both his kindly daughters
sat upon the flowered throne.

XXIX.

The wise ruler gracious there
laid counsel in the difficulties —
all raised their brows in wonder —
the distress seemed to have passed.

XXX.

No man disturbed the mood —
the king gave sworn faith —
then spoke Rósíðá:
"A settlement is yours now.

XXXI.

"With open arms I will here
bid you receive the feast —
let Sertram also come along —
the noble captive you shall see.

XXXII.

"You may promise them the brides,
yet lay some length of delay —
while we seek the counsel's home,
we shall find the wisest plan."

XXXIII.

The prince takes this counsel,
as the wise-garmented lady had seen —
he lets feed about the land
the warriors, and Sertram with them.

XXXIV.

Thralls hasten by the land's path —
the ships come into harbor —
seven hundred men in their company —
the King welcomes their host.

XXXV.

The brothers are served great food
at the greatest feast prepared —
among the vagabonds Sertram sat,
bound in hard chains.

XXXVI.

The ladies stare at Sertram —
the song of love begins to stir —
the prince's rare son they see —
each one desired his grace.

XXXVII.

Never had nobler a man
been looked upon in that place —
their gaze-stone sought
the seat where Sertram was.

XXXVIII.

The sword-sharpener sat astonished —
he spoke no word to any —
no wine and no food he took —
the warrior sweated there in silence.

XXXIX.

Prostur makes his petition then
to the prince a second time —
"An answer may well be given" —
the Emperor himself then spoke:

XL.

The answer the lord gives —
he sends the bright serpents then:
"It is not seemly to refuse them —
yet I require something in return.

XLI.

"A year of delay there shall be —
a wedding feast desires to be made —
with the greatest gathering of men —
while we join together here."

XLII.

The men then gave the delay —
gladly they wait, well pleased —
with a handshake the agreement sealed —
the two brothers then received it.

XLIII.

Leave they took with that —
the King became content with this —
then they drove across the bowing plain,
home to their mother's estate.

XLIV.

Into Hólmgríður's hands
they delivered the bound prince —
she wished with cruel spear
to harm the man that very hour.

XLV.

But the men of gold wished the man
to wait until the wedding feast —
guarded, Sertram shall be kept —
into a stockade she set him.

XLVI.

Now we must take up the thread
of the gold-lords and their counsel tell:
when Haki put out to sea,
he brought the entire army with him.

XLVII.

The stays creaked and the yard strained —
the wave beset the boats —
winds rooted the wide sea —
the wave-steeds charged onward.

XLVIII.

The wave raced freely after,
chasing the sea-steeds ever more —
by Assyria's harbors
they bound the launching-horses.

XLIX.

Silk tents they set upon the land,
sleeping quietly in darkness there —
to the hall the people went silently with swords
when the night had passed.

L.

The Emperor then learns
that Frakkland's champions had come —
the wise warriors and cheerful prince —
he bade them to receive his feast.

LI.

They asked the famous man for news —
the king now, and his daughters too —
Haki told the true account —
the prince's daughter gives heed.

LII.

When the clever Sjóla's son —
I saw — thoughts flew in his mind
that through deceit he held the woman
though Germóð's she had been won.

LIII.

"Where is Plató?" the prince's child asked —
Haki answered again:
"He sat not at home with the people —
the famous man is at war.

LIV.

"The sword-lord in warfare here
has lain these three years —
he would surely show mercy
if he knew what happens now."

LV.

They ended the talk — night fell —
the wise ones found a resting place —
with quiet arms upon their benches,
Haki awaits the morning.

LVI.

Then men went to the ship's deck —
the gentle lord here to the muster —
two thousand retainers he got,
and with them a count called Ottr.

LVII.

Sails wound up on the wide deep —
the wave-steeds then charged forward —
from the land finding open water —
banners flap beneath the yard.

LVIII.

The swollen gusts stood against the sword —
on the sea-land the rune-steeds ran —
the chiefs girded for their journey —
the sharp wind stood in the wing.

LIX.

They waited where the current prevailed —
the winged steeds pressed hard —
by the harbors of India
they swiftly took their rest.

LX.

With all the army departing,
the lords rush now at evening —
upon one fair field
they raised up silk tents.

LXI.

Twelve noble men now ride
on trusted steeds across the land
to Hólmgríður's sons at once —
these messengers were sent.

LXII.

To the hall they go and find the warriors —
the brothers were at home —
on their breast-plates they announce war —
trembling, Prostur gives answer:

LXIII.

"Doom swiftly comes to those
who part from the red-stained host —
no people in all the world
dared to offer us war.

LXIV.

"Therefore shall we hurl you to doom's ruin
with swift death for you here —
now no intercession may be found —
the leaders we shall hang."

LXV.

The messengers were driven off —
the brothers' army full of rage —
gnashing their teeth at the matter,
they rushed out to save themselves.

LXVI.

To their own multitude across the land
they hurried, and spoke loudly:
"When the sun stands on the rooftop
we shall seek the shield-clash here!"

LXVII.

Warriors accustomed to battle's stone
take up the guard this night —
Marianus, Ottr as one,
and Haki deep with all their host.

LXVIII.

The mask of all departs from me —
I too find my rest —
this Ríma is finished:
thank you, brothers, for the reading!

Fimta Ríma

The dawn battle, the slaughter, the Needle-Sea, and the Horn of Eldgríður.

Mansöngur

I.

The maiden fair I'd wish to win —
the wine of Dein's destroyer —
comfort then when I persist:
the tunes fall to their custom.

II.

The mind ferries each one hence,
the verse-tree seeking outward —
here I offer homage to you,
for such are verse and meter.

III.

Rich the play of the verse-refrain —
long I sleep through the mornings —
most often I compose and bind
the homeward wretched journey.

IV.

The verse-thread I have watched and kept,
though stubborn in the crafting —
hard for me to raise the tone:
my strength withers in the doing.

V.

One longing is the worst of all,
the greatest anguish goading —
a wind-steed often shaken,
not to be seen in storms.

VI.

On feeble tones, not firmly grooved —
as full warmth would kindle —
with dry palate and strong voice
the verse-sound forth I send.

VII.

This verse-craft I still rouse here,
all worse than in former days —
I plead to you, good people:
such is not found on these tables.

VIII.

A hidden memory awakens —
I praise you as I should —
you were with me, bright of brow,
beautiful Rosa!

IX.

When the green garden bloomed and grew
she stood beside me as was custom —
softest sound from the sun's treasure —
I sang a song of her.

X.

Wherever I go I praise you,
the fallen in every place —
with reluctance I depart from you:
more is here to verse.

The Dawn Battle

XI.

Then gold fell on the ground's bane —
the spirit's ale burned deep —
thunder's violets tested the path
in the shield-din's bitter strife.

XII.

The host of troll-shafts from the hall,
forces trod upon the field —
the horn-crowned ones hardened all
with keen-sounding might.

XIII.

Thither Haki drove the army —
the chieftain toward the conflict —
the clash of swords and crash of brands
covered the ground of battle.

XIV.

Together churned the troops their foe —
fire gleamed along the edges —
swords fell on blue byrnies:
they began the work of war.

XV.

The blue-men's host then forward pressed,
furious drove their anger —
blood ran like a waterfall's flood
across the broad meadow.

XVI.

The Christians saw their men fall like straw —
the brave could not hold the line —
one against three of the thralls they fought:
the blue ones' star was rising.

The Slaughter

XVII.

The blue-men's host in fiercest might
tore Odin's tents asunder —
and bent the shielded ranks by force:
the blood-fire driving further.

XVIII.

The brothers hardened both their shield-floods —
battle weighed upon the fields —
blood trailed the doomed ones' treasure:
they went more terribly still.

XIX.

The wreckage tore like life and land —
the host with sorrow traveled —
the trembling land about the shore
as Loki in his bonds was shaking.

XX.

Blood on the field — the swollen trolls
waded through the marshes —
they shook the very throne of hell,
threatening every stronghold.

XXI.

The Christians fell into the fray —
they sought their hope in meeting —
fierce beneath the spear-meeting's storm,
the warrior-woman found them wanting.

XXII.

The treasure-river runs and clears —
nothing of the journey endures —
smoke rises high toward heaven:
corpses lie in heaps.

The Needle-Sea

XXIII.

The warriors suffer the needle-sea —
the day draws near its close —
they gaze upon the dragon high:
the grey beast's bitter strife.

XXIV.

The warriors thought with bitter rage
where Hólmgríður's sons fared —
the weapon-storm wakes fury:
wrathful purpose hastened.

XXV.

Few warriors could withstand the press
as the host suffered sorely —
every toe and finger torn
upon the mountain's high stone.

XXVI.

Each doomed man fell upon the field —
the wide earth turned to green —
the arm-elm's bearer onward drove:
each one robbed of life.

XXVII.

Poison spewed from every side
beneath the battle's weight —
marrow died in the sea of blood:
warriors fell in the seething.

XXVIII.

At the warriors the swords struck fear —
Sigmund's garments tore —
few blades about the darkened shore:
the blood-veins drained to white.

XXIX.

The valiant host pressed forward hard —
the wool-of-arrows cut —
with might they struck on helms:
each sturdy warrior striding.

XXX.

The dead fell there and far around
where blue arrows flew —
they watched across the field:
the wind's fierce banner flying.

XXXI.

The tide then turned across the flood —
fury over all streams —
Christian folk marched in the host,
and the trolls grew weary to the hall.

The Horn of Eldgríður

XXXII.

His men approached Haki there,
coming to him in need:
"We few shall fall here
if more counsel is not found."

XXXIII.

In the brand-storm for the finest host —
as she would forge the strife —
old Eldgríður went to battle:
she struck down the helm of war.

XXXIV.

Near Haki, wise of counsel,
holding to the mountain's fold —
they saw the woman coming:
she came then to the host.

XXXV.

There Eldgríður they recognized —
the warriors then resolved —
they bade her lay her forces
with the host in bitter strife.

XXXVI.

"I," said she, "am not alone here —
distress enough to hamper —
find then what follows after me:
the old foster-mother."

XXXVII.

The shield-forest bore great harm —
the faint-hearted fell —
by Helluland's unholy stance:
she held the scales of trouble.

XXXVIII.

"It falls to you to find me —
beauty guides the mind —
while here we have not met,
silence here must serve."

XXXIX.

So the ancient norns enchanted —
fury shall not daunt the eagle —
"From this horn the ring-thorn warrior
here at morning shall drink."

XL.

The grey old woman vanished —
the warriors fell to silence —
at dawn upon their feet they gazed:
treasure enough across the land.

The Turning

XLI.

They went swiftly over the field —
to the arrow-storm they readied —
warriors drew the wound-elm out
to the battle's bitter press.

XLII.

Horn-crowned helms and sword-gold gleamed,
threatening all with peril —
the mountains hid when swollen trolls
trod the bloodied field.

XLIII.

They rose like shadows from the sea —
the fair shields gleamed on high —
gilded helms shone upon them:
spirits scattered wide.

XLIV.

Swords unsheathed and then they struck —
each one grim of heart —
peace fled, and the blood-sea
deep-flowed to the earth.

XLV.

The slaughter-field seemed narrow now —
the singing steel persisted —
long the shield-planks shattered
in the fierce one's flame.

XLVI.

The hard strife bore on the valiant host —
Hólmgríður comes to battle —
in the dragon-strife she struck with malice:
the damage-storm grows fiercer.

XLVII.

The poison-sea raged with no respite,
arrow-flaying on the host —
but none died as they had before:
they poured out their defense.

XLVIII.

The warrior who felt not in his toes
nor ring-adorned fingers —
struck down upon those peoples
as Prostur went to war.

XLIX.

The mead-swords there were wrought —
as warriors scoured the scouts —
these arrows they wielded hard
to harrow backs in battle.

The Fall of the Pillar

L.

The blue-men's host the storm withstood —
blind the warriors stood —
they gnawed the shield-rims fierce:
the raging host grew furious.

LI.

Many warriors the helm-star steered,
strong in Odin's might —
both hosts now fierce became:
wonders came to pass.

LII.

The fire raged — the storm held fast —
nowhere did the trail end —
they stormed the hoarded ford:
the proud earth at the threshold.

LIII.

Bold warriors drew the fierce blade —
the brand-flame in the mountains —
the joy of battle thundered,
heavy in the hammer's stream.

LIV.

Upon the field one might behold
the ice-rain's bitter message —
bright swords upon the chieftain fell:
the fallen warriors trod.

LV.

The tireless host reddened shields
on the thunder-stripped earth —
the blue-men's pillar fell to death
in blood-red fjords.

LVI.

Sigmund's spear-fate on the field —
the fierce ones torn asunder —
wolves of wounds devoured the strait
as if bound hounds were biting.

LVII.

He sickened in the arrow-rain —
Fjolnir's cloth upon the earth —
corpses stripped about the body:
blood in the dark fjord.

LVIII.

Then the trolls from wise-mountains
gave their golden need —
the messenger-host shook the hall,
threatening every stronghold.

LIX.

The warriors waded through the fires —
the eagle saw its prey —
the star-blade on the host declared:
the steel cut down.

LX.

The host crashed and bore the flood —
pressing to the roaring river —
the tumult fell, but blood remained:
long stood that fame.

LXI.

The mask descends upon my mind —
at morning here I versed —
the ríma ends, but thunder here:
let the thorn of learning flood.

Sjötta Ríma

Plató's return, the muster, Rósíðá's message, and the expedition begins.

Mansöngur

I.

With dream-languor I drag myself now to my feet,
fitting — for I think today
it easy to choose a meter.

II.

The devil take it — not simple, that ríma there,
she tested me rather harshly;
to her I owe much thanks.

III.

She challenged me hard to compose,
in the work of verse, as the poem lies bare;
promises are now unfulfilled.

IV.

Besides that, half-consuming my body,
the blessed lung-leaves
swelled up in my throat.

V.

I shall not for my remaining days
wrestle with such a craft of song;
it does not pay in small coin.

VI.

We are all the greatest wits,
we who bear the task of shaping verse,
from land's end to the people's heart.

VII.

Iceland might wish heartily
that her sons never tire of wandering —
those strutting lads of hers.

VIII.

But — do not forget, Mother! how in days of old,
generously your Poets served —
composed their verse for the Skjöldungs.

IX.

Chieftains were the finest in their rank,
at their King's right side,
always seated in the highest place.

X.

But our honor, such as you would keep,
caring little for that current —
the monarchy of worthy men.

XI.

The art of verse yet pleases me to praise;
mother of all eloquence,
a guide to many a nation.

XII.

But enlightenment is not of great worth;
it does not fill the cupboard,
nor can it be eaten.

XIII.

Yet I will give you, O heart of barren gravel!
a thousandfold thanks always —
upon you I ever call.

XIV.

You teach me, though I often forget,
to release all that burdens me
and heavy thoughts that follow.

XV.

Much more have I to say to you;
but that must wait for another time,
for here ends the Preface.

The Verse-Door

XVI.

The verse-door I let fall again —
the battle raged unbroken,
blood streamed across the field.

XVII.

On neither side did fame hold firm;
now shall more be told,
and Sertram's brother be recalled.

Plató's Return

XVIII.

Three years had this one been away,
proving himself in distant lands —
but to France he had not come.

XIX.

No man so valiant was there
that could stand against him anywhere,
when warriors tested their mettle.

XX.

Sixteen ships and many famed men —
he had won renown and trust —
homeward to France he now sails.

XXI.

The lord seats his companions there
with horses and wagons of honor;
homeward to the fortress he journeyed.

XXII.

Of journeys and brave deeds of his,
let tales be told among the men;
the lord was glad to hear them.

XXIII.

All thought the young Plató had made
the finest journey anywhere,
won treasures and splendid wealth.

XXIV.

"Where is Sertram, my beloved kinsman?"
Plató asks — the wise man inquires,
and at those words his mood turns dark.

XXV.

Sorrowful then was the tale that was told —
all of Sertram's fate was laid bare,
and how he had been betrayed.

XXVI.

Rage swelled in the young champion's breast,
his face turned red as blood;
up with his sword the hero stood.

The Muster

XXVII.

He commands men throughout the realm to march,
wherever they can bear a blade,
to arm themselves across the land.

XXVIII.

Any who resist this summons,
standing with concealed refusal,
shall be cut asunder.

XXIX.

Gathered was a host from every hand,
folk across the broad French ground,
who took up sharp iron in their fists.

XXX.

Uncountable — they drew near in droves,
in gilded armor and hammered shields,
warriors ready to bear fire.

Eldgríður's Counsel

XXXI.

When the whole army marched toward the ships,
upon Eldgríður's path he came —
the king's friend, with a glad heart.

XXXII.

He met her in the forest's midst;
she bore two bundles on her back,
stooped beneath a weight before her.

XXXIII.

Heavily she plodded on her way,
bearing burdens of the thunder-wife;
it was worse than one might hope.

XXXIV.

He asked her: was Sertram still alive?
She knew the true tale then,
and said she had just come from there.

XXXV.

She also said she had laid plans for them;
but no human power of any man
can overcome the troll-women's strength.

XXXVI.

She said she would come there again soon,
with her foster-children in tow.
The grey-cloaked one then began to speak: —

XXXVII.

"Hold these promises, good woman!"
She said: "That I shall fulfill,"
and so he parted from the woman.

Rósíðá's Message

XXXVIII.

From Assyria it is now to tell:
Rósíðá speaks to her serving-boy,
and thus raises her voice:

XXXIX.

"Go and find a dwarf in stone —
Lítur is his name, as you know —
summon him here now."

XL.

The boy went, and Suðri came at speed;
then she spoke the ancient words:
"Your errand-journey is prepared."

XLI.

"To France you shall go and find Plató,
tell him everything of Sertram,
and hasten that he come hither."

XLII.

"Observe his grace and his worth,
his manners and his answers here,
and tell it all back to me."

XLIII.

"Tell him of the sisters' bare cruelty,
how they submit only under duress —
the coward sons of Hólmgríður."

XLIV.

Lítur turns his journey thence,
does not delay from his travels —
to France he comes at last.

The Encounter on the Road

XLV.

It is said: at this very time,
Plató comes from the Dovre Mountains —
he finds the dwarf upon the road.

XLVI.

Lítur thought he knew the young champion;
in a gilded saddle the prince rode,
galloping his horse at full speed.

XLVII.

Gold-bright hair lay on his shoulders,
under a white brow-star —
eyes both hard and keen.

XLVIII.

Upright he sat, with ruddy copper skin,
broad-shouldered, swift in valor,
manly in the saddle he was.

XLIX.

Lítur speaks: "I wonder greatly
that you, like a thrall and a bondsman,
ride upon this royal road."

L.

"Are you Plató, son of France's lord,
whose fame flies widest through the world?"
He then answered those words:

LI.

"Dare you, vile son of a mare,
utter such a torrent of words?
From you I shall twist the head."

LII.

Lítur says: "Let that now wait!
Go rather, swift in fame,
and find the sons of Hólmgríður."

LIII.

"Your brother is there in troll-hands;
sent was I from those who wait
to tell you of this need."

The Expedition

LIV.

Forthwith the famed lord calmed down;
a gold ring the dwarf gave him,
greeted him, and blessed him well.

LV.

To his ships the lord now hastens,
forward onto a dragon-ship —
the prince steps aboard.

LVI.

Two thousand, the mightiest warriors,
he chose from his company,
onto the sea-horses along the fleet-channel.

LVII.

Two companions went there with him —
Sóti and Sámur they were called,
sorcerers were they both.

LVIII.

Iron of no giant's making could bite them;
their vessels were shielded against blows —
Plató had them enchanted.

LIX.

Warriors bound the sails upon the masts;
sheets tore asunder in the wind,
and from land the prow turned seaward.

LX.

A word shall be said: that Lítur returned home;
beautiful Rósíðá he found,
and told her all the news.

LXI.

She asked the dwarf to forge armor and helm,
which would serve the famed warriors well,
along with a sharp-edged sword.

LXII.

He promised this for the young fighters.
Now Suðri shall carry the tale forward —
more men join the story:

The Enemy

LXIII.

The Golden King of Greece ruled the land —
Hrærekur, fierce at battle;
he had two daughters.

LXIV.

Sírena and Ása they were called;
a king of the kindred was also there —
Ermenrekur is his name.

LXV.

This king's son was the finest warrior;
in summers he tested the sword's longing,
in winters he sat beside his father.

LXVI.

At Bisland's Isles once he landed,
that treacherous servant's covetous son —
there he had good hope of gain.

LXVII.

On the other side he sees them lying:
thirty ships he counted
and a noble dragon-ship beside.

LXVIII.

Úlfur was their master's name,
Baldúlfur his brother was called —
blue-men with a bewitched banner.

LXIX.

Vikings they could be named the worst;
no spear bit into those warriors —
full of sorcery were they.

LXX.

Here there was no way to evade;
battle they offered fiercely,
a bitter threefold teaching of wounds.

LXXI.

Ermenrekur urges his warriors on
to charge forward past the salmon-channel —
though the difference in forces was great.

The Cliffhanger

LXXII.

Swords were drawn, the fleets joined battle;
the blue-men's fire burned on the wave,
tearing at warriors' flesh and blood.

LXXIII.

The slaughter tilted so swiftly
at the fierce assault on Ermenrekur —
yet he did not spare his valor.

LXXIV.

His stand had come to the worst danger;
I shall go before him now
to find the expected man of help.

LXXV.

But he must wait here and fight meanwhile —
the mask calls the verse-wine:
the next Ríma is coming.

Sjöunda Ríma

The sea battle, the two sorcerers, the Blue-Men, and the brothers fall.

Mansöngur

I.

Again shall Reginn's vessel sail,
right at the appointed time;
with this verse-sending I tempt the maid —
tight shall the Ríma be smoothed.

II.

I draw up tune-verses for a while,
with verse, if the verses please;
a fair stroke I offer to the gentle,
offering its spirit to them.

III.

Good Oðinn! Earnestly I pray —
against the storm of edges fight;
lend verse to verses with peace,
to compose, if warriors listen.

IV.

Thy fine pleading grace
I need the labor against;
though now both counsels dwindle,
yet bright the journey passes.

V.

Let not thy might cease
to adorn the songs of verse;
little against the tale I found my own —
the people listen and rejoice.

VI.

The melody shall trouble the mind a while;
I let the best instruct me to calm,
to chase the fair discovery-maiden
firmly to the nearest hearths.

VII.

The fair spirit yearns a while,
the stalled melody to forge;
the found kin to the gentle I offer —
a verse today to hear.

VIII.

Pleading for the wise man's gracious judgment,
cast warmth over it;
sound counsel with honor's praise —
yield rather to the pen.

IX.

My mansöngur dance I find,
weary, the hardship expressed;
the land's gleam ceases around the Finn —
I summon cunning verse.

The Verse-Door

X.

Lazy he sat with verses upon verses,
long in catching slumber;
Plató got with spirited folk
to march against the wrongful hound.

Plató Sails to Battle

XI.

He swept the villain's cloth aside,
the linden-hind stiffened;
heralds announced the miser's way —
gates of resistance to be tried.

XII.

The snow-maiden still attempts the path,
catching the course as expected;
willing to ride across the wrathful heath,
wronging the far-sighted.

XIII.

Where there was yearning to strike,
the folk bloody-colored —
it happened then upon the sea's waves,
weariness from the vessel's path.

XIV.

Then the weary vessels lay at rest,
Þundr's hand upon the rigging;
they saw the isle of Frakland sweep before them
and found the wise war-hounds.

XV.

Ermenrekur fights with wounding thread;
quickly the lord there drives.
The war-host sees the speed approach —
silently, therefore, fear takes hold.

XVI.

The dragon-ship sails the bore unscathed;
at last he looks upon the strife.
The wrought strength drives on —
with bright adornment he profits.

The Encounter on the Ships

XVII.

One man there I might see,
standing on the sea-vessel —
he who spans then over the brow,
the strife of those lands.

XVIII.

His hair the clearest purest stone;
to them death was sent stealthily.
The bearers carried the straight twig —
the ball of the slain-shores.

XIX.

He asks the man: Who might he be,
the storm so fiercely raging?
Has the truth truly come to torment
the sea-steed's wooden company?

XX.

He bids the host to strike the man
in the tense dance of blades;
against your storm of edges —
so answers the crown-offerer.

XXI.

"Honor-pious, I swear who I am —
by wounds I had to find;
sea-darkness in the famous fleet here:
the sea, then, you must leave."

Plató Joins the Fray

XXII.

Plató rallies his weary host;
bloodily he trod the fields.
A warrior got into the fierce fight —
the mood of the peoples chilled.

XXIII.

With keen troops, a steadfast host,
blackening foul the foes;
we weary the biting third assault
against the stubborn in soot-storms.

XXIV.

Stubbornly one could not see the thorn-defense;
the folk steered it red with blood.
The strength of horn blows against horn
with the sound of growing filled.

XXV.

Striving against the shaking sword-land,
the blood trailed from veins;
slashing and cutting wounds with hands,
reddening the warrior's harm.

XXVI.

The fist gets at the claw's root,
praising the dead who fell;
the blue one's fist breaks against —
he bade them necessity to fight.

XXVII.

Brothers rush into steep destruction,
where none there are free;
lodged, rushing against the land-bond,
into the deep swamp down.

XXVIII.

Flood-blood around the fire-road's hall,
the breast-warm wounds —
the people's fury breeds cold,
the arm's burden of war-summoning.

XXIX.

On broad steeds the rulers assemble;
troops feed on grief and sorrow.
From cowards leading battle-flowers
with voice — brothers, terribly.

XXX.

The singing-branch rang against the sun,
wounding each and every, driving out;
the honorable one concealed the ship-steed below —
he sees too Ermenrekur.

The Two Sorcerers

XXXI.

Two spear-swift warriors
followed the prince's heir;
they part to test their spears —
golden ones in battle to labor.

XXXII.

Sóti the fierce tore apart the troops,
and Sámur cut them down with wounds;
the clashing hosts bit and bled —
the blue-men pushed against.

XXXIII.

On the brothers' field they bore the judgment;
gentle peace afterward reached —
rushing with wounds against the year of strife,
bright battle raged.

XXXIV.

Spread-out, visible, the two warriors,
catching with their poles' attention;
they waded in the grade of spears,
on the wrong path rushing wildly.

Against the Blue-Men

XXXV.

The host fears that wound-wolf's meeting,
when few rouse the army;
quickly on the bench the found hound —
goes too Ermenrekur.

XXXVI.

A storm of raising shoulder-swords,
tumbling bliss into death;
turning widely the deed was done
on the wind-linden's prow.

XXXVII.

The stubborn ones strike, rolling in distress;
the folk battle with the fallen.
The blue ones — now the cowards die —
the blood trails widely.

XXXVIII.

Plató got now the healing song,
damaging the sword in fire;
pressing the brave, the storm was fierce —
the hand's sand-trees hold.

XXXIX.

He breaks the brush; the burden stilled.
He bears the army gleaming —
the host's dishonor falls away,
each one against the other.

XL.

The tent's battle-song finds its mark;
he, bright, spans the prow.
The binding spell gazes upon them —
the gleaming ones know death.

XLI.

For a time the hound harries the warrior;
on the helm the steel-mine bound.
Apart asunder nothing went —
the elm's defense was found.

XLII.

He hews the brush, but the blow did not bite —
the frost-giant's tumult against swords.
The keen one keenly against it carved;
the wrestling-tumult hardened still.

The Tide Turns

XLIII.

Long they grappled, the flood of courage,
caught, straining against;
the warrior flings trails of blood —
the flail strikes long ones down.

XLIV.

He bowed with exhaustion before the leg-lightning's edge —
Sóti's ugly kinsman.
He broke the built spine to pieces;
the soot-one bursts asunder.

XLV.

The burning buckle's edge now cast
under the shield to wade;
men must thereby know
the sword-blade's stubborn murder.

XLVI.

The defect befalls the grey ones,
as branches on the pure accustomed;
all fall away who can —
the spear-testers know.

XLVII.

Upon the raging fury, wounds cut;
smooth, the thrall's sword.
Along the trail of blood — a torrent
into the breaking fierce sand.

XLVIII.

Shields are torn, they crash to ground;
a glorious folk who stretched.
The squeezing wound, a time —
with fury the blood is tested.

XLIX.

The deeds diminish upon the warring folk
who yearn for the found hungry ones;
the swords harden the silent vow —
the hounds stood wrongly.

Úlfur's Challenge

L.

The labors know, spray-wet;
fair of stature was he.
He therefore grants himself counsel:
into the sea he dives down.

LI.

The troops receive strife's learning,
the self-helpers' kinsmen —
against Sóti and Sámi's blue,
Úlfur himself comes.

The Brothers Fall

LII.

The man shall now hear more,
where swords harden in blood-sacrifice;
to the whale-mad spear-lord —
he made the deed in the trail.

LIII.

Two warriors rise not then,
the storms of battle unceasing —
whales upon the cool ocean;
then the others battle.

LIV.

Take care to settle the brothers' course:
harm the enemy received.
From both came the coward's death —
in the mingled depths they sank.

The Battle Ends

LV.

With seemly valor on sorcery's path,
then the battle lightens;
the light-one's sorcery streams its thread —
as mighty strength nets.

LVI.

Then the glory's sounds bite;
the peoples' songs receive.
Gentle strife of wise treasure —
with warrior's pride, at last.

Áttunda Ríma

The fleet returns, the reunion, the voyage to Assyria, and the Emperor's feast.

Mansöngur

I.

Strength wanes if we lengthen the poems;
soon I grow wary of it.
I sing still on stiffened strings,
settling my feeble spirit.

II.

The lily chooses to gaze at rings,
but grief pays the purchase-price;
no hero's eye looks this way
to grant the troubled one relief.

III.

I prayed to Odin earnestly
when last I composed the mansöngur's verse,
that the goddess might ease the wave of grief —
but it was all as beating stone.

IV.

Though it grow now into worth,
and his mind harden stubbornly —
ah! I am answered no better:
Odin gives with guile, and gives sparingly.

V.

Shame on you, Odin! Down with you,
and your silent supplicant's trumpet!
Wretch! To me, alas,
you would not offer your cup.

VI.

That with joy, I will hope,
my prayer were answered thus;
I have begged the bow-goddess so,
with cheerful spirit, through a little tear.

VII.

But you, Þriðji! Wracked with misery,
you will not bolster my poems;
into you I shall drive my curses —
let the Devil bite himself over the wine.

VIII.

You may freeze, surly one, and grow cold,
and snarl like a begging swine;
it shall still proceed from my making,
though need weighs heavy upon me.

IX.

Only the sycophants wave at you,
those who safeguard their friendship with yours;
but for me they may turn their backs,
close their mouths to you, and look the other way.

X.

You are praised endlessly by kinsmen,
you are dashed down, you villain;
you are condemned, broken by torments,
you are judged utterly useless.

XI.

Though the little fame-hungry wretch
may suffer his fate in the end,
it shall prove true all the same —
the Saga sounds thus now:

The Verse-Door

12.

The verse of fame ceased its raging;
the villain's seas calm upon the shores.
The good heroes boast of victory —
the blue-dark lights of slaughter dim.

The Fleet Returns to Greece

13.

Then they bind sails to the mastheads,
the cool sea-spring yawns wide;
they ran past the hours of wrath —
the great tempest cleared.

14.

Breakers foam with billow-arrows,
the wave rode to towering heights;
storm-steeds strain in heavy currents
on the stone-biter's open heaths.

15.

The rigging sings on the surf-halls,
the bows bend the sail-yards low;
planks buckled on the vessel's sides —
the swimming seabird plunges.

16.

She cut asunder the broad waves;
the dark horse trod the swimming-path.
From the prow there foamed the froth —
Rán's children fell and tumbled.

17.

Forward to the shore of the Greek harbor,
through spear-straits taming the brands;
in the Pillar-Sound they cast their cables
and stepped upon the land.

The Reunion

18.

Ermenrekur, his father freed,
found also brave Plató there;
fame drives the tidings widely
when shields have sought the bed of thirst.

19.

To the hall the warrior raised his torches,
bidding warriors to come;
good drink was prepared with care —
the feast stood for two days.

20.

Thus it passed in good company,
with glory the feast was made;
Plató wished to linger on —
the chieftain now speaks his fair designs.

21.

With Plató content, Ermenrekur
decided to follow in his train;
twelve thousand warriors he takes —
those from the throne who would ride with him.

The Voyage to Assyria

22.

The king, now proud and battle-bold,
from every quarter rides the host;
all bore the war-serpents forth
across the wide mast-land of the sea.

23.

Against the sword-waves steering strongly,
each prow there raged before the wind;
broad billows spread their sea-horses —
the land vanished in the deep.

24.

A wolf of the sea met opposition
by Phrygia and the eastern strait;
fire-ships sailed the passage —
to Assyria the troop made harbor.

25.

They bound the ready ships by evening
at the tongue of the pier;
to the lord's dwelling went the company,
and quickly raised their tents.

26.

Then the wise one looked and pondered,
dared to go into the town;
Rósíðá, blushing, he found there —
she brought forth the battle-armor.

The Arming

27.

"Now the vow I made to you is fulfilled" —
he thus receives the forged gift.
Look upon the shining blade:
Laurfi is the sword's name.

28.

"Now these are at your harbors:
the armor that you must bear.
The golden warrior's sun-trail gleams —
the worthy ones shall bear them to the hall."

The Emperor's Feast

29.

Plató, I believe, named the venture fair;
the wise one gracefully agreed.
He let the weary host
refresh and rest in this place.

30.

Rósíðá sharpened her speech
when she saw the warrior and Plató:
"The ransom for your sisters — free then
shall the benefactor behold them."

31.

They talked at length before they stopped;
warriors came who were not expected.
The townsmen at morning looked out
and saw many chieftains' ships approaching.

32.

Then the wise chieftain held council;
every weapons-bender made ready.
One Jarl sent word to the seal-lodge
with a well-known company.

33.

Háni shall invite the king's heir
home with the people to the feast;
the fine company in the warrior's colors
rode about — for he was summoned.

34.

With a thousand men he rode to the fortress;
the ravens wait at the heights.
No one found there cause for sorrow —
to the feast-halls the people streamed.

35.

In towered halls the sweet measures played;
honor and joy grew long.
With sweet-voiced instruments of bright tone,
the strings sang their beautiful song.

36.

There near, the mood found its music;
they met the Emperor himself.
Words passed between them, warm and friendly —
the lord of the assembly invited them in.

37.

The chieftain, glad, sees what awaits;
he sets the spear-warriors in place.
The company gleams in brightest gold —
in gilded carriages he takes his seat.

38.

Fair drink the prince brought forth,
with brewing-songs and poetry;
full cups, pleasure and play —
the feast lasted three days.

Plató and the Maiden

39.

Warmly then the prince wept with haste
and bade the Emperor's daughters
visit the great hall —
with sons, with courage, with love, and dance.

40.

Plató and Ermenrekur, early one night,
went thither with resolve;
from the warriors ten he chose —
the fierce ones went with him.

41.

The princess bids the lady wait;
the heart's first longing stills.
Between the foremost, down to the hall,
with grace they sat at the feast.

42.

My bold adventurer wishes to visit,
to wake among maidens the poem's making;
by such fine nobles to sit
is heaven upon our earth.

43.

To have true friends at the table before us,
with cups full by the maidens' side —
this the seat of honor knows
is joy! This I have loved most dearly.

44.

By fair maidens blossoming,
sweet words from the wise;
and drinking from golden cups the red wine —
I find the riches of the sun.

45.

This I swear: my fair lady,
I hold to such a custom still.
I know none who are more beautiful —
no English woman, nor Venus-blithe.

46.

There sat by the leek-linden long,
Plató, and drank gladly;
he fared forth with delight —
the swift flame of love sprang up.

47.

With her the bold one bids the golden one walk;
he guards the swift maiden close.
Along the path they steal away —
the shining one hands forth the armor.

48.

The noble warrior bade him bear
such gifts and accept from her;
she gave also the gleaming sword —
victory-blessed, to the young lord.

49.

The lady of rings sent fair words:
"Ring-glad one, I ask this of you:
bind no vow to another,
for I will seek back again to you."

50.

"Grant us with long embrace the sweet —
both joy and goodness I pray.
That we be brothers, if we are freed —
your grace shall be beheld."

51.

The love-message, smooth, I received,
for the free soul in the house of thought;
the noble one extended a soft hand —
the ring-shore promises this.

The Departure

52.

After this the warriors made ready;
both fair ones spoke their joy.
From the ship-steeds they departed
and hoisted now the sail to the yard.

53.

Thunder in the shrouds, the rigging moans;
in the foam the canvas crosses.
Against the waves the mast-heads crash,
rushing upon Rán's children.

54.

They began to haul the sail-rigging,
stretching wide the icy gaps;
the canvas flapped white and bright —
all the lines wheeled round.

55.

The angry storm rushed the channels;
the gale drove the way before them.
The wave-steeds broke the prow's brow
on the broad white heaths of the sea.

56.

Swimming without trouble they reached the shore;
the blue wind handed them to land.
Rushing to the coast came the wave-children —
they made fast their ropes at India.

The Arrival

57.

A troop of men found shelter there;
from the fight-seekers they asked for news.
The wise man within told all the truth:
the war went badly for them.

58.

The warriors rested at their ease;
with honor the masks were set aside.
And when the sun shone in the heavens,
the brave company rose at dawn.

59.

Fame would not long grow cold and dim;
since then the battle-dress is donned.
For the golden verse commands it well —
to march into the fight with them.

Níunda Ríma

The great battle, Hólmagrídur's dragon, the she-troll's fall, and the rescue of Sertram.

Mansöngur

1.

I may test the might of verse —
pain, though good men listen —
though blood churns in the ruler's strife,
still I must cut the poems.

2.

I shall not be afraid therein
to fulfill the deeds of battle,
though hot the fury of the heroes,
filled with grief and wrath.

The Great Battle

3.

Thunder crashes, the war-sounds rise,
the square shakes on its thread;
a storm broke on them that morning,
bursting from the fortress in fury.

4.

In battle-fury they gnaw the shield
and howl with terrible sounds;
into the war his stroke-age waded —
the congealed blood became the weather.

5.

Grey wolves gnash with their teeth,
with fury they strike about the skull;
in fierce rage they stood to pound,
and hewed the trunks of bodies.

6.

Out of the host they surged there then,
the fair fire of battle storming;
upon the gleaming ranks they struck,
and bright steel thinned the many.

7.

Platò played about with skill,
leaping at the battle-muster;
into the arm of Ermenrekur's ranks
he flung another down.

8.

Marianus holds one flank,
and Safi, hardened to battle-life;
Platò urges his men around him —
to the ending of many lives.

9.

At that same moment crashed a charge,
a sharp meeting of spears;
Platò rode out before them all,
alone, to the encounter.

10.

He began to carve with mighty force,
splitting the trunks of men,
as branches and twigs shook with terror —
brain-matter, sickening, flew.

11.

The blade sang bright — the skilled one
struck with curse-blow after blow,
cleared a path through the host,
and spared not a single man.

12.

The war-god's man enjoyed the fight
and showed his foes small mercy;
they fell, sickened of their brief age,
beneath the dripping spears.

13.

Eight men he hewed with his blows
until they knew their deaths;
blood in runnels washed them clean —
joy he wore upon his face.

14.

The tumult rose up great anew,
the blade-edges roused the warriors;
the whole host pressed forward —
wonders began to unfold.

Hólmagrídur

15.

Hard was the battle on the highland;
the warriors accepted their doom.
Hólmagrídur came there then —
the fighting men beheld her.

16.

With bare breast she girded herself,
blood upon her red fury;
dark-browed above the skulls,
the dead stood about her.

17.

Many found their deaths swiftly;
nations struggled to be free of her.
The host paid a bitter price
in the devil's pounding fury.

18.

She rips and shakes with ruinous might,
the blind mountains tremble;
beneath, the crags crack aloft —
crashes heard among the peaks.

19.

Hólmagrídur, void of blessing,
hardened the fierce battle,
spewing poison, belching fire
over the advancing host.

20.

Men saw a great beast stride forth,
stalking forward from its lair;
swiftly it swung its claws
against the standing warriors.

21.

Poison flowed from the beast's maw,
evil beyond all hope;
she bellowed in sorrowing fury —
what power she had, that fine woman!

22.

She brewed a cold death-plague,
blood at the red brink;
the dead like corpses quickly
fell upon their skulls.

The Dragon

23.

Hólmagrídur met her beasts,
made war in deadly earnest —
in dragon-hide drawn ugly,
the devil's greedy spawn.

24.

With shaking fury she struck,
spreading terror through your men;
from the sea the dragon drew itself,
wrapped in dark clouds.

25.

Upon the great dragon they resolved to strike,
they tried the claw-stroke;
renewed now the furious rage —
that beast could not be stopped.

26.

The air thunders, a terrible roar
out of the yawning maw;
in the mountains it thunders, the crags bellow —
groaning shakes the very ground.

27.

Blood on the fields — the brave host here
heard the great crashing;
terror seized every hand,
watching the trolls advance.

The She-Trolls Fall

28.

Now in darkness they came to blows,
with dreadful thundering sorrow;
the she-trolls in the fray resolved
and fought most savagely.

29.

Their furious storm was hard,
the wet claws shattered;
the great dragon fell to earth —
blood-streams bound the river.

30.

Then with valor the men beheld
what the fierce battle had wrought:
there Hólmagrídur lay slain,
free from the dragon's hide.

31.

Likewise two foster-daughters were found,
fallen upon the ground;
they sorted the slain nearby —
from that encounter, unto death.

32.

All there gained courage anew
and went back again to fight;
greatly increased by wonders,
the blood-river ran wide.

Into the Cave

33.

Platò rides with drawn sword from the storm,
bending the stiff sinews;
toward Hólmagrídur's cave-hall
he urges the horse forward.

34.

In the cliff-hall the ring-lord
heard the cries of men;
one spoke thus, saying:
"Overwhelming is this ban on joy."

35.

"I fear for my noble kinsman,
that danger should befall him;
for Sertram's sake I fight therefore —
that honor hold its seat."

36.

Platò then forced his way within,
with the wound-serpent's bone;
twelve warriors he found there
who held hard, stiff stones.

37.

They sat evil by the fire's glow,
and serpents wound about the wood;
he began to beat down the troll-folk —
I trust the fair one did not fail.

38.

The skull-plate the warrior tore
from one of those grey fellows;
he cleft another lengthwise
with the stone-pillar's weight.

39.

Ten great trolls went mad,
the blue peaks trembled;
the famous warrior they wounded then,
grey-haired was their fury.

40.

But all were cast into destruction's ban,
death's anguish they learned;
their wretched stronghold he stormed
and burned them in the warm fire.

The Sleeping Giant

41.

Many open wounds began to bleed
on the wasteland of the feathered claw;
he lay upon his sword a while
and let his weariness run out.

42.

The next strong one stood up then,
the fierce seat-guardian;
he saw the weary one sheltered in a nook,
slumbering in quiet peace.

43.

That friend of fiends awoke,
felt the danger to itself;
sternly it stretched and slithered forth,
sending its foul breath.

44.

"If I bring my fury to bear sometimes,"
— says the vilest brute —
"at our encounter, the thrall
would never thrive."

45.

"But my tongue I still may use,
now let the edges break;
you shall receive what I have in store —
with blood I will make offering of you."

46.

The wretch, caught, endured the torment,
thirteen fetters stiff;
with tremendous force the spear was thrust
clean through the jaw.

47.

A terrible roar rose from the bloody belly,
the lair began to shudder;
the cliff-hall trembled violently
and the cave boiled with swelling.

48.

The wretch thundered with darkening force,
dirge-strings sounding;
fast in wonder he struggled —
the cave-floor split asunder.

49.

Poison spewed from its throat,
hard as the hall was pounded;
into unconsciousness the hero sank —
the skilled warrior fell.

50.

After the fall and the swoon,
deep within the mountain,
the brave champion wakes at last —
the creature was now dead.

The Rescue of Sertram

51.

The brave one in his battle-coat
set about to break the doors;
bound he found in foot-stocks —
Sertram, neighbor of spears.

52.

The champion forward, fame as he bore:
"Fierce was your hardship —
rise!" And thin he had become
through his evil days.

53.

The greatest meeting of joy
with kinsmen there was made;
he freed his bound brother —
glad were the groves of swords.

54.

A horn, they said, brought them glory,
the deed of fame proved worthy;
the other drank and nowhere spared —
hard, and never thirsty.

55.

The strong one finds his task is done,
this strengthens the wise one;
of his fierce passage he then told —
spoke of the serpent-wood.

56.

Then from the cave-hall's high room he trod,
he and his brother wise;
the good black horse Búcephalus —
the ring-enjoyer finds.

The Departure

57.

Platò sends his thanks on high,
the sword with gentle thunder:
"You may thank Eldgríður
for this fair champion."

58.

They arm themselves, the sword-breakers,
the armor-threads and reins;
forth to the fury of battle,
where wound-rivers stream.

59.

Most of the host had fallen, alas,
in the fated middle of fortune;
the warriors refused their rest,
tearing down the thrall-chains.

60.

Forward now the swift ones bear,
hoping for their reward.
The ríma shall end here —
it may be thus!

Tíunda Ríma

The final battle, the duels, victory and peace, the weddings, and the poet's farewell.

Mansöngur

1.

I have grown a little weary
of sitting down with verse —
that time is poorly spent;
see, that is all the worse!

2.

Rest I would gladly win
and let the learning wait;
therefore shall I once again
ride out the final strain.

3.

Though in foolish fashion I
fling merry words about,
I think it profits me nothing —
not at all, good brothers!

4.

But one comfort, if it be good,
to others it follows to tell:
most will sleep sweetly enough
when he begins to recite.

5.

Looking about the winter quarters
where the poems gleam and gloss —
one may halt there at the stocks,
my fair one, she my Rósa.

6.

Should she sleep at the singing then,
as many of the crowd —
perhaps I may lean beside her,
close against her ear.

7.

Though my sweetheart sees it so —
the slender wife and woman —
nobody cares a whit for that;
I may hum along just so.

8.

Then tedium vexed my fortune
and displeasure rose to quarrel;
so I let the ríma-verse
run from my stiffened pen.

9.

Though words come sluggish to me,
often about the verse-seat —
let those find fault with this part
who themselves can do it better.

10.

Yet the age may look upon it
if poems should be found;
there is not a marten's straw
of any great gain to win.

11.

Though my verse should fall flat then,
when my song grows silent —
they shall get no thanks for that;
it may gladly wait.

12.

When I find the grave's hollow
and the world's frothing trouble —
though my name shall not long live,
I let it stand the same to me.

13.

For when the grave-bed holds me
and the good fate I shall know,
I think I shall mock
the endurance and faults of men.

14.

What is the use of composing then?
I will myself give answer:
to drive away the idle straw
and withstand the mind's temptation.

15.

I shall make an end now
of composing mansöngur-song —
here is the Saga, take it then!
Listen, good brothers!

The Battle Continues

16.

There was the battle fierce and all —
masts sang in the yards;
Christian warriors took their fall
before the thralls' swords.

17.

The falcon ranged destruction wide
in high halls of danger;
in pools the blood stood congealed,
stiffened about the dead.

18.

Men's heads lay low upon the land
in great and dreadful flocks;
and gleams reached high to heaven
from stumps of horses and men.

19.

The war-bidding wraps the worthy folk —
slaughter in the deep halls;
abundantly dripped death's blood
from the thick war-sinews of men.

20.

The doomed clutch and kick in haste
and footless try to rise;
grim bark of mail groans out
and freezes with death's blood.

21.

The dead thrash in the pool of gore,
in the dim turmoil of the fjord;
the eagle got its fill there —
most were at their end.

22.

Flesh in bonds writhes in rage —
the giant-folk to their death;
with feet and hands they clawed about,
villains wanting their heads.

23.

The trolls still roar and rage,
the fire hisses fierce;
serpents wound many men —
they would crawl through all.

24.

The king's son Platò dared the dance,
amply aided still;
then little could be seen —
his garment floated in blood.

The Challenge

25.

"At Sertram!" says the Swede now,
hurling hand-sized stones:
"Against Eyvind you must ride —
a cruel fight to face!"

26.

"I shall seize the thrashing-thresh,
though bloodied with the flame;
into the deep I'll drive the roar
of the devil's wretched name!"

27.

"Ermenrekur! As you ought,
take Rastor to yourself —
if you bear courage and do not fail,
greatest son, to strike!"

28.

"So if she lies in bed beside you,
sister of my heart,
you may prove it yet to me
that you bear a man's heart."

29.

"If you cannot deal out death
at the edge of battle,
you shall both be called
cowards — nothing less."

The Duels

30.

When Sertram hears such answer
he sees no cause to wait;
he drives his horse with force
across the bloody plain.

31.

Eyvind found the famous man
and got across the field —
"A fine meeting!" he calls.
"Come now — to the fight!"

32.

The giant came in gleaming mood,
guarding with famous strokes;
a blow from the spear the foe received,
but nowhere could it bite.

33.

The king's son strives toward the blow
so the wretch falls heavy;
Sertram found the horse's back —
broke it in four places.

34.

Platò charged then at the Priest,
for the strokes would not cut;
he saw that the sword's edges
could not bite through at all.

35.

He leaps beneath the arm-prow
and claims the noble's meeting;
felled the hound hard to the earth
and broke the back asunder.

36.

Ermenreki struck the wretch —
a wretched soul's meeting —
Rastor, for he hewed the horse
and split its bow-frame clean.

37.

Neither waits the other out —
the maples of Freyja's tears;
the oak-wood tore up root
and drove it through the fool's skull.

38.

The stall collapses, the blows are hard,
the skull smashed to pieces;
the giant grows numb, fell to earth —
death he had to endure.

Victory and Peace

39.

Thus the brothers suffered little harm —
at which many were glad;
so for them both, late and early!
Thus went the tale.

40.

After weary, bitter strife
the worthy could at last choose;
the brothers together had
a victory to praise.

41.

The giants now get fair peace
who could escape the battle;
up was held the hand upon
the clean shield of peace.

42.

Warriors set the war-spoils up,
the soft-handed seized their prize;
with tents they draped the camp
so all men walk in shelter.

43.

Then the ship was laden fair —
they did not fail to smooth her;
the wind's breath beneath the yard,
out stretched the canvas wide.

The Return to Assyria

44.

Away from the stern they scored their course —
sharp winds howl and blow;
by Assyria's harbor-horns
the warriors broke the sails.

45.

From the string-wagon the folk poured forth,
quickly to the hall they stepped;
sisters welcomed the brothers best
with gentle promises fair.

46.

The sisters knew them at the hall —
then they arranged a feast;
the thanes drank the wedding-ale
for thirty days.

The Weddings

47.

Platò married the rich Rósíðá
in the bed of hope fulfilled;
Sertram married the fair Slóríðá —
betrothed her for his joy.

48.

But the drinking gave them sport no more;
forward to the lands of Greece
they traveled, all together,
to fulfill their ancient pledges.

49.

Hvarek's daughters they sought in haste,
the brothers, with good favour;
Saki the worthy — Asu's daughter,
the young one — won with skill.

50.

Sóreinu, the Saga tells —
this work of wooing done —
she was given as mate to him:
Maríanus the strong.

The Kingdoms

51.

On the wave-horse after that
the brave ones took their leave;
to freight their homelands they set forth —
the foster-brothers all.

52.

Áslaug, daughter of fierce Artí,
Ermenrek took as mate —
adorned with wealth of fire in abundance,
the fair one he duly claimed.

53.

Home to Greece he journeyed then,
having won his battles;
the kingdom he received when doomed
his father bowed away.

54.

Sertram ruled the Sraka land
after his father's days;
enjoyed many a lucky hour,
long freed from every sorrow.

55.

Platò bore the eagle proud
to Assyria in valor;
the Emperor's crown and dignity he gained,
and cast the old burden off.

56.

In good old age all of them
ended their days in peace.
I know no more about it —
finished is this Saga.

The Poet's Farewell

57.

I am clean done with all —
the craft, when it wanes;
go now and slacken then,
my Rímur of Sertram!

58.

They shall get no thanks
who mock the poems' worth;
those who listened silently —
hold me in good standing.

59.

What year I composed them
I do not think I'll say;
it matters not one whit —
or where that stood.

60.

He who composed the song of the tale —
see if you know the man:
longer he is, with bowed neck;
let it become clear to him thus.

61.

Let those receive and accept
who love the hidden verse;
I have no more to say —
my discourse is spent.

Colophon

The Rímur of Fertrami and Plató were composed by Sigurður Breiðfjörð (Sigurður Eiríksson Breiðfjörð, 1798–1846), one of the last great practitioners of the Icelandic rímur tradition. The cycle was first published in 1836 from Viðeyjarklaustur press, printed together with Breiðfjörð's Jómsvíkingarímur in a single volume: Rímur af Jómsvíkinga Sögu, ásamt Fertrami og Platö.

This is the first known English translation of any portion of the Fertrami og Plató rímur. The translation was produced across ten tulku lives of the rímur translation lineage, each translator taking one ríma and passing the blade to the next. The cycle is complete.

Good Works Translation from Old/Middle Icelandic. Independently derived from the 1836 Fraktur source text. No existing English translation was consulted — none exists. Translated and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.

See also: Introduction to Rimur

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Source Text: Rímur af Fertrami og Plató

Old/Middle Icelandic source text transcribed from the 1836 Viðeyjarklaustur first edition. Fraktur typeface; all characters read manually from page scans. Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above.

Fyrsta Ríma

I.
Vaknar qvæda valsan frí,
von ad hreysa brögum,
ljóda rædan lisnar því,
af listarmanna sögum.

II.
Tídum saungva gydjan göd,
gaman mönnum veitir,
þar sem qvedast lystug ljöd,
lisna allar sveitir.

III.
Á þig nú af hjarta og hug,
heiti Nornin ljóda,
af því þú ert álmáttug,
ad edla dansinn hljóda.

IV.
Hjá mér vertu veikum dreng,
verkadu saungva slagi,
mýktu og herdu hörpustreng,
hann svo gángi í lagi.

V.
Heila sögu hest [?] eg nú,
á hörpu þýrs ad leika,
med tilsögum þínum þá,
þróttinn styrkir veika.

VI.
Uni fólk í anda kátt,
ýfir bodnar flódum;
kéindu mér ad dausa dátt,
og bylla fögrum hljodum.

VII.
Þá ángurs báran byltir þeim,
bana fram af skéjum,
láttu sárann sorgar eym,
saungla í strengum hverjum.

VIII.
Þá fjendur hrynja og forsjar blod,
um seigdar bitru grundir,
láttu brynja hesin hljód,
svo harpan titri undir.

IX.
Þá skal hrósa þjódin nett,
þundar staupa stadi;
hví skal Rósa sá þad rétt:
ad fögur sengi eg qvædi.

X.
Hún skal sorgar hespa pin;
huga minn þad gledur;
hún skal borga bögur mín,
bresi og kösum medur.

XI.
Herdúm bragar hljódin á,
hér um ecki steira;
kémur sagan svona þá,
sem þid skulud heyra.

XII.
Artus nesni eg gyldann gram,
gylltum styrdi brandi,
stóraudugur stillir nam,
stjórna Frackalandí.

XIII.
Ingibjörgu hylding hress,
hlaut til Ektavonar,
hún var dóttir hilmirs þess,
Hálfdáns Eysteinssonar.

XIV.
Fólkid allt um Fracka torg,
fylgdi kristnum vana;
Hilmir sat í höfudborg,
heitir Euphratana.

XV.
Þad er sagt: ad þengils kon,
þá fram líta nádi,
fæddi honum frídann son,
er Sertrams heiti þádi.

XVI.
Átta þegar árin bar,
alvöl þókti henta,
Stsjóldúngs son í skóla var,
slíkadur til menta.

XVII.
Þrjú ár hafdi þarna vist,
þegad bókastafi;
riddaranna reid og list,
ræsir numdi arfi.

XVIII.
Drottníng þar næst dóttir ól,
drósin Aslaug heitir,
Stsjóldúng þeirri skrúdaföl,
stémmu fagra veitir.

XIX.
Sveina mergd og maktar stjöd,
meyjunni þentu gæda;
þengils drottning þridja jöd,
þar næst gjördi fæda.

XX.
Plató hét, sá heidur bar,
hyrdir freyju tára;
þá hann fæddist Sertram var,
simtán talinn ára.

XXI.
Kastali var gýldur gjörr,
í gardi Siflíngs hreina,
Sertram sat þar frægdar örr,
fjölda hafdi sveina.

XXII.
Af ættum tignum ad sér dró,
sta [?], hetjan spaka,
einn var frægslur þeirra þó,
þann vér nefnum Haka.

XXIII.
Hertoga var sonur sá,
svinnur sýsir randa;
hans í Alexandríá,
acht gjörvalt nam standa.

XXIV.
Stsjóldúngs son á stóga reid,
ad stémta sér á dögum,
fram svo tími lángur leid,
med lucku og sæmdar hógum.

XXV.
Stillirs sonar heidur hár,
um heimsins ferdist ranna,
Plató fjölga einnig ár,
áfbragd fótti manna.

XXVI.
Vilhjálm nesni og vassann gram,
var sá Akti bródir,
Rúsía sá ráda nam,
rausnar herraun gödi.

XXVII.
Mildíngs sonur mátur hét,
Maxíanus Sterki,
riddara engum undan lét,
ödins klæddur serti.

XXVIII.
Þad skal herma Sertram frá,
ferd á stóg nam reyna,
med sér hafdi þrékinn þá,
þrenna tígi sveina.

XXIX.
Lengi dags um lángann stóg,
lidid getu refur,
dýra veittist veidi nóg,
en vedrid dymma tefur.

XXX.
Sitlings tundur sá einn hjort,
sveima um stógar rjodur,
öll hans hud var erid hjört,
af svo geislar stódu.

XXXI.
Þýrid elsa tóku tveir,
á tvíblindö tonu baki,
því frásla höfdu fáka þeir,
Sertram minn og Haki.

XXXII.
Dýrinu þeir fylgdu fast,
fúsa sókti mædi,
upp þeir koma í einum hast,
á eydimerkur svædi.

XXXIII.
Bádir springu þeirra þá,
þósa birnir fráu;
misid féll nú myrkur á,
menn þvi eckért sáu.

XXXIV.
Á fótum runnu fjærri bid,
ad fjallatingdum halda;
Haki tjer vid hilmirs nid:
hvad mun þessu valda?

XXXV.
Sertram aptur ansa fer:
ósjálfrádt er þetta,
veit og buin ockur er,
af illum tröllum gletta.

XXXVI.
Haki aptur samdi svor,
fist má undan hlaupa,
en einn skal ockar fræga fjer,
fullu verdi kaupa.

XXXVII.
Hjálpar ecki hreystin gréld,
hilmirs son nam sjalla,
ad ockur munu ebla seid,
illar vættir fjalla.

XXXVIII.
Eslaust Dofra eru fjöll,
ad sem gjörum svíja,
Eldgridur er ógna tröll,
á hún far ad búa.

XXXIX.
Farsa þock og slipá grá,
slagda hrockinstinna,
dreka ham sér hefur hjá,
hrecki fremur stinna.

XL.
Edir svo í einum svip,
enda heimsd milli,
felur mörgum gódum grip,
galdra stóckur illi.

XLI.
Eblir líka álog strid,
ef á þvi þarf ad taka,
þó hún sé nú þegi frid,
þá á hún sér maka.

XLII.
Skrimnir nesni og dýgrann draug,
bölgur fjerri þrydi,
hælir sig í hamra haug,
ham med trolla gridi.

XLIII.
Á bringu hángir bósans vor,
blocter hud á dára,
þrællinn hefir þjádst í kor,
þrenna tígi ára.

XLIV.
Giga þau til sonar sér,
Sám, þad treikid versta,
heidar tindum hærri er,
hundsspott allra mesta.

XLV.
Irsa heitir andlits ljót,
einka dóttir hjóna,
risar tólf med bredkja hót,
hellirs biúm sjóna.

XLVI.
Nú sem tala þeir um þad,
þjósta mundu nátir,
hellis dyrum einum ad,
eru komnir bádir.

XLVII.
Sjá þeir Jötun sat vid bál,
og seyd af hrossaleggjum,
þufsúm byrjar þannig mál,
frúmdi í hellirs veggjum:

XLVIII.
Sertram! komdu í fjalla sal,
sá skalt naturgreida,
annan steikja ychar skal,
einn í katli seyda.

XLIX.
Fréttist af þér fregnin sú,
Sertram gándi, hlidur,
geyppilegann greida þú,
gaungumönnum bytur.

L.
Réttast sér og reis á legg,
risnu herda breidur,
járads lagdi ad svínnum segg,
sundist vera reidur.

LI.
Einnig risar adrir tólf,
sta sóktu fróma,
harfid verum hellirs gólf,
hinir brugdu stóma.

LII.
Sertram tekur Sám ad sér,
sóttuist þeir med brædi,
en Haki móti hinum fer,
ad höggva vörgum sardi.

LIII.
Tólf þeir sóktu hardt á hann,
og hjuggu alla vega;
Haki frækinn verjast vann,
vel og karlmannlega.

LIV.
Sverdi nú ad Sámi brá,
fjóla frægur nidur,
höggid kímur eirad á,
eyddur þótti fridur.

LV.
Kjaptafollu og Fjálfastian,
qvistur sneiddi geira,
Sámur eins og Malchus minn,
misti hægra eyra.

LVI.
Vard nú þetta vid hann jaust,
en vondur jetun heida,
efra tók med ógna raust,
og ásinn gjördi reida.

LVII.
Hjóp í lopt frá böggi þvi,
hilmirs frægur nidur,
klettastoru ásínu í,
ofugt fellur vidur.

LVIII.
Þrællinn eptir ásnum laut,
og aptur reida hyggur,
en burt af skrockram haustinn hraut,
hann svo daudur liggur.

LIX.
Haka vildi í vopna dans,
vitja frægdar seggur,
en kona ein um herdar hans,
högg í þessu leggur.

LX.
Flatnr datt á fjalla stöd,
frægur njótur randa,
fram af munni fossar blód,
fljótt þó upp nam standa.

LXI.
Syrpan björtum sára háng,
seggísins til þá lagdi;
fastar sér í sálu sáng,
Sertram þá ad bragdi.

LXII.
Flagdid ásta þá vid þad,
þróttinn reyndi fremur,
hremjur lesti þonum ad,
hold frá beini nemur.

LXIII.
Fram ad báli frægann vill,
flytja ráni medur,
jordu fálqn ólm og ill,
upp ad hnjánum tredur.

LXIV.
Glíma bredi í bjarga sal,
burdi kénnir handa,
figrar madi mennstann hal,
móti henni ad standa.

LXV.
Husinn blódi Haki gekt,
hellirs inn ad báli,
hjálpa godum hugdi vekt,
ham med sinnu stáli.

LXVI.
Hafdi fellda hina tólf,
hamra varga ökra,
vill þó hreldstur vígs um gólf,
vorunn bjarga blíra.

LXVII.
Meltan bitur bardist þó,
brod í spjótafundí,
nitur vitum eytri spjó,
odlings móti kundi.

LXVIII.
Á aurgvit líddur þorna þór,
med þíngum nidur svíma,
hellirs gridur hamast fór,
hann þá vidur glíma.

LXIX.
Hlinur viga velli á,
varn um stundir knúdi;
en vard ad hníga þreyttur þá,
hvert um undir brúdi.

LXX.
Sertram aptur réttast ród,
runnur frjóta stísur,
gridar krapti grimmum med,
gydju ljóta þrísur.

LXXI.
Feck nú stála freyrion lid,
fángbrogd gyld ad kána,
fram ad báli dygra dróst,
dró og vildi brenna.

LXXII.
Beiddi grída fyrpan sér,
físfar hrísstir brúma.
Hérna vid eg högi á mér,
hættir fyrsta Ríma.

Önnur Ríma

I. Eg mun reyna, ef ad sveinar hlýda, samantvinna Sögu-ljód, sú er vinnan þegi géd.

II. Mig nám þjóa singra ísa veitir, ad fram eg greiddi srada-þráð; í freistni leiddi hann mig þá.

III. Hraðumst vér, þá Sannes fer ad lesa, mitt sanjta mærðar sjól; muni leíd sinnast til.

IV. Þó eg vildi, þad er skylda líka, fyrra eina amastund, edalsveina frögum lund.

V. Eins lonu líka, einhver vísan rjóda, qvaddum hnegia eyra ab, ósurfeginn vil eg þad.

VI. Eins og vofa eg í stofu hýri, fari glófan varla verr, vari Rósa komin hér.

VII. Ef sú hreina edalsveina þróda, mér nú setjast mætti hjá, mislu betur fari þá.

VIII. En þad er eki, þvi nú redur frægur; naumaan þyrda vilja minu, þó verdi stýrdur bragurinn.

IX. Svo er hóst ad sögulestur sunni, og qvædi styrja erafsa eitt, þvi eki er vit í þessu neitt.

X. Þó í rítid þvi vird storta, þad er standi, ef eki er, ad þvi grandi fjólfsum mér.

XI. Burt med sladur, berhásdadur aptur, helga Sögu í hönd eg tek, og hródvar lögun þannig vek.

XII. Beiddi gríða brýdjan vidinn klæda; hann qvad nei! og innti ad, engannveginn ferdu þad!

XIII. Þú skalt brenna og bródurd kenna svíta, í þvi bíli er hjó hann mér; bjarga-fúla aptur tjer:

XIV. Áll til vinna vil eg — innir fúla — eg mína gjalda móti trú, mætti eg halda lífi nú.

XV. Þegninn tjáir: þetta á skal hætta, ef sú gredir þakk hér, hann þvi skjódu sárin ver.

XVI. Einnig sverd og alla gérd tilbúna, í verold best, sem vitid þér, og vanann hest þú færir mér.

XVII. Yfin [?] sé módír mér til gódra ráda, í eggja sunnu á iggjar-frú, annars brenna staltin nú.

XVIII. Þessu heitir hún ad breyta eigi, hýrdir branda um hellirs flet, hana standa upp þá lét.

XIX. Nattnar Haki hesju maki ír sveima, oda-báran útraun þar, allur sárum sleginn var.

XX. Seyrdust [?] forn, í hellirs-dynar stóru, hamur dreka inn þar sé [?], ögn sem freka mennum jóf [?].

XXI. Þar ír strídur þrekin gríður fjalla, sú var há og hrædileg, hamra bláum þredir veg.

XXII. Yngra sjóðid [?] færdi módur qvedju, spurdi frétta hyrjan há, hún nam rétt þar greina frá.

XXIII. Heitordín hún hermír sinni módur, sleina hlín er frægum bjó, furdar hína en mælti þó:

XXIV. Í audnu stund þú óskar fundinn sóktir, trygg eg veist ad dóttir mín, dugir heit ad efna sin.

XXV. Í traustum Haki tól ad maka sárin, hamra-gríður heillum med, á hægann síðan lagdi bed.

XXVI. Færdi horn ad hringapornum báðum, mærir dreka njaðar lá, til meiðsla eki fundu þá.

XXVII. Sofna rótt, og svo réd nóttin lída, Sjóla klæddist sonar þá, sett var fæda bordid á.

XXVIII. Rost nam taka tiggja spakur nidur, leiddi fóla frægbar-mann, fram í stóla tjalda-dann [?].

XXIX. Hann var fullur helst af gulli kláru, víni, fedu, vopnum þó, vænum klædum, mundar-snjó.

XXX. Einn þar karl red uppá palli liggja, eki fríður aulinn var, augun vid ír hófi bar.

XXXI. Byrgðist klæðum bófsinn hræðilegur, nasa þant í bustum bródt [?], bófsinn hraut í svefni dátt.

XXXII. Hverr er þetta? — hetjan frétta nádi — þuldi rán í þeli soinn [?]: þad er Skrámur bóndi minn!

XXXIII. Hetjan kémba [?] hróss þeim senda bjóðar, hjartans fegin þygg eg þá, þrekin segir bjarga-gná.

XXXIV. Hring einn tekur hamra þrekin gríður, fundi Sjóla feldi þann, svefnis bóli fögadann.

XXXV. Kraptur fylgir fríðum bylgju laga; hverr á breiðir hendi hann, húngurd neyd ei granda tann.

XXXVI. Daga þrjá þeir dvalid fá í naðum, heil var gróin Haka und, heimsferd hjósu [?] þeir um stund.

XXXVII. Hún þeim bjóda hesta góda nadi, þar nærst rída heldar heim, hilmir blídur fagnar þeim.

XXXVIII. Heilann mánud hlínir ránarlaga, heima bída þraustir þá, hér nærst rída stóginn á.

XXXIX. Sertram spakur fór og Haki líka, til Eldgríðar hellirs heim, hún med blíðu fagnar þeim.

XL. Dil [?] herklædi úlfa fedir, selur, hjalta vend einn miskun med, meuja-strönd, og tala réð:

XLI. Eg nam sókja yðar mærik góða, og fjölnerd [?] happa fotin grá, fram í Kappa-bófi á.

XLII. Þar nærst mær ad þengils Hjærum [?] arfa, gylldann leiða gota réd, gylltum reídar-tygjum med.

XLIII. Þeunann [?] hest í heimi bestaun sinnum, blaðurinn heitir: Búfsiþal, er bauga-veítir þyggja shal.

XLIV. Þakka nadi þeingils sjódur arfi, þennann greida þráda reyn, þadan reid svo aptur heim.

XLV. Sat um fort í Sjóla yrdtum [?] gardi, sinn med fróma sveina ljód, svegir stlóma ní um hrid.

XLVI. Sina ní hann sveina búast lædur, og út vill draga úlfs um leið, einhvern dag í skógar-reíd.

XLVII. Þá nam Haki hesja spakur ráðu: öll herklædi vil eg vér, vidris glædur berum hér.

XLVIII. Dfs [?] ad höndum efni vond ef bera, fremur varir frægðin fíli [?]; Sertram svar gaf aptur ní:

XLIX. Einn á ferdum engann fjerdu [?] voða, á þýðhann slóg þó þreystum ferd, þad er nóg vid berum sverd.

L. Samt á stad þó seggir gladír ríðu, tekur Haki herklæðin, og hjalta natinn vöndinn sinn.

LI. Þegnar ríða þá um vída stóga, einn þeim madur móti fer, mislid hradar þefsi fér.

LII. Draustum hesti, tigjum hestu klæddur, þángad öd um úlsa mar, allur blódi í hylinn var.

LIII. Sertram qvedur fagrum mödur [?] ordum, bidur hreina heiti tjá, hana nam greina þessu frá.

LIV. Djúlst [?] fii hnegir hann og segist vera, á hans nadir flsinn [?] frá, fjanda bráðum grúsa þá.

LV. Sertram segir: seig þitt eigid heiti, og hvada vandi á höndum ei? hlínur randa ansa fer.

LVI. Hér þér megid, Germód, segir rekkur, ödlings fanna arfann fjá, Indianna rifsjum frá.

LVII. Frétti eg viða frægd og prídi ydar, og á gyldum oldu-fund, ydar vildi sókja fund.

LVIII. Hér vid lamb [?] eg hitti standid nauda, undir sólar-setur þá, svarta dóla hitti þrjá.

LIX. Brædur eru blámenn, her þeim sólgír [?], þíggur lafsíd [?] þeirra hvur, Prestur, Rastor, Eyvindur.

LX. Þúsund átta í eggja flætti [?] bófou [?], blámenn trylda búna gérd, brædi sylda [?] ad reyna sverd.

LXI. Ád mér vóðu, eg med rjóðum brandi, tók ad sundra trolla þjód, titrar grund, en rennir blód.

LXII. Féllu allir fordar [?] fijaldír [?] mínir, ír mæfja [?] fari mig eg dró, morgum sárum sleginn þó.

LXIII. Gódi Herra! hefsíd snerru randa, hesníd [?] minna manna stjótt [?], meidid stínna þræla drótt.

LXIV. Þá nam Haki hyggju-spakur tala: ríðum vér til borgar brádt, búum her í randa slátt.

LXV. Kóngsson tjáír: kappar fá ad duga, rom [?] þó vaxi rímman há, ríðum strar og sinnum þá.

LXVI. Þessu hlýda þeir og ríða allir, en Hermóður undan fór, arid [?] geðann reyndi jór.

LXVII. Álann herinn star [?] gera ad lita, bróddum hardnar sleina fár [?], sylfingarnar vóru þrjár.

LXVIII. Runnar klæda risa hrædileg [?], fóu styrra [?] þrælum þrjá, þegi rira til ad fjá.

LXIX. Þá Hermóður þófa [?] geðum héra, lætur renna í hinna her, hrekfjamennid tala fer:

LXX. Sertram! þú, ad fullu ní skalt reyna, eg má lofstýr lægja þinn, líka fregi Herra minn.

LXXI. Þú, ögætinn! þig svo letur dára, fibl hjd [?] mesta og fantur ert, fyrdum sjest þad opinbert.

LXXII. Sídan kallar sína alla dára [?]: takíd höndum hreysti-menn, hördum böndum vefsíd senn.

LXXIII. Sertram fjer, hann svifinn er í trygðum, fylltur módi fram þvi reíd, fólkinn góda setti á skeíd.

LXXIV. Fyrstan höggur Hermóð skrögginn svíka, endilángann mann og miar [?], meldir sóanga [?] visti þar.

LXXV. Féll á haudur fólinn daudur nidur, sendust þjóðum svíka-gjöld; svo framvedur heiðin öld.

LXXVI. Nú var ferd á fyrda mergd um stræti. Mig ír hljódi hindar dreg, hreint svo ljódin enda eg.

LXXVII. Bídi smídi, blídir hlýdi lýdir, ljóda valíd egi enn, ödar galíd þegi senn.

Þriðja Ríma

Mansöngur

I. Enn skal láta Litars ens[?], úr ljóða nausti stríða, freyu gráta ef vildi ver, viðum mínun hljóða.

II. Að líra og sofa leiðist mér, laug er vetrar gríma, troll og voður var eg hér, við í nótt að glíma.

III. Á setur lírinn fór með það, fór á fróðsinn tindi, bærum úr og út á hlað, inn í norður blíndi.

IV. Sá eg dreka sveyma ham, senn að bygðum mínum, hálfa heðja heima nam, hann með vængjum sínum.

V. Froðu spúði úr hálsi hann, hvostinn belgdi öðum, tviskinds brildu[?] tirra vaun, trollsins fyrir hljóðum.

VI. Fram sig dregur frekt um flóð, sjalla bygur raun[?], hugdi eg, og hissa stóð, hér er meir enn draumur.

VII. Það Hólmgríður illa ér, í þíslvöðum sínum; ef sátir ljóður fá að mér, svó þá guaðum mínum!

VIII. Has[?]di eg gloggar getur á, hvað gjördi drekinn stóri, en Norðri skroggur það var þá, þrekinn vinda sjóri.

IX. Tiltum auda frá sér sjóð, fróns á laungum túnum, hristi land en hverbi sjó, hamra saung í brúnum.

X. Sá oss riðum saldar spar, sátir heim í vetur, sí Hólmgríður þó com þar, það fór líta betur!

XI. Hljóð mér gesi bragnar bráðt, braginn meðan laga; nú upphefur þriðja þátt, þarna kémur Saga.

Narrative

XII. Mærðar bð[?] þar mentin ríng, mín að þrotum ljóða, þrælar slóu þyðkvann hríng, þá um þræðarjóða.

XIII. Sverðin hristu, sondu bann, sumir fengu bana, brynjur ristu, blóðið rann, um bilt á konu grana.

XIV. Blámanns öld um unda jörð, að alma söktu lundum, regnis fjöldin risna herð, rigudi blóð úr undum.

XV. Allir Sjóla sonar menn, síðan hnígu dauðir, þundar gjóla grimm var enn, gellu brandar ranðir.

XVI. Einn var Haki eptir hjá, öðlings frægum niði, margir blakt af bröndum fá, í blindviðs herðum fríði.

XVII. Reið nú Sjóla sonur fram, sveittur brandi randum, mörgum fóla steinkti flamm, strokum bilti dauðum.

XVIII. Hjalmar klosna fyrtir frið, fengu margir bana, fylking rofna verður víð, vornu báli grana.

XIX. Nú af haka herma þjóð, harður stáls í regnum, fingra-jaka fjölnir veð, fylking hverja í gégnum.

XX. Reiða löndíngs loga nam, tumður frægur sverða, á gylltum röndum hjörinn hlam, hansar klosna verða.

XXI. Í valnum kostu bða blóð, hremmður grindar eði, dreyra rostu ölmur öð, upp að linda sveði.

XXII. Að forða-lestir kostum þvi, Rastor naði leggja, báða hesta bógum í, bitu tennur eggja.

XXIII. Svo á sæti sóttust þeir, sósvirð njótar heiða, Haki mætur gylðann geir, gjördi' að þrjóti reiða.

XXIV. Egginn bitur ecki hót, illann trolla maxa, Haki nítur hounum mót, höndum naði' að taxa.

XXV. Fálu-ver ní falla má, feikna bilta þjáði, högg um þverar herðar þá, Haki af öðrum þáði.

XXVI. Veit ei góda brynju á, bráðt upp Haki stendur, móti söðu pessum þá, þresinn rétti hendur.

XXVII. Úr sóðli þrísur sverða gaut, sveistu á hann rekur, hálfsinn stífur böfans braut, blakinn síðan tekur.

XXVIII. Fer á bak á fólans jór, fróns um þakið ríður, vopnabrakið veðja fór, voma Haki sníður.

XXIX. Sertram snar, sem brandinn ber, bófa líðið hrekur, kémur þar, sem Prostur er, þrynuir harða vekur.

XXX. Gaurinn bitur ecki á, öðlings frægur niður, handa njótur prosta þá, og þrælnum útaf ryður.

XXXI. Vildi sunda svörtum hrekt, fálga hetjan tjarfa, þá Eyvindur þángað ót, á þengils ræður arfa.

XXXII. Sverðið rauda roftur þá, rak í skap á skreggi, búinn dauða svelnir. sá, sér af þestn[?] heggi.

XXXIII. Galdra kéndi gaurinn forn, við glóða meðir voga, blés úr hendi hringá þorn, herjans breiðann loga.

XXXIV. Vigra stælir varla fékt, vopna notið sinna, fjöldi þræla fram nú gékt, fjólnis stundi grinna.

XXXV. Harfid ver um hristar leð, hilmirs arfinn neyðdi, tigi fer af þræla þjóð, þá með knesum deyðdi.

XXXVI. Var nú fjöldu og bjalka á, blóðann þjóðin leiða, í sárkost um þrautum þá, þjáðist rjóður skeiða.

XXXVII. Fánginn verður vígs um flóð, vasinn þrauta banni, strengi herðir þræla þjóð, þá að hreystimannl.

XXXVIII. Haki þettað þegar sá, að þegn var fallinn blíður, burtu réttar brautir á, brognum undan ríður.

XXXIX. Síðan stunda' að skipum réð, skálfaoldin búna, Sertram bundinn sluttu með, festu segl við húna.

XL. Haki veginn heim að borg, hraustur fíðan rekur, blóði þveginn; fára sorg, með sínum fréttum vekur.

XLI. Allt hið sanna sagði frá, seima-njótur hjæri; sjálfir manninn frétti þá: fantar hvaðan væri?

XLII. Hraustur mælir Haki þá: — hlýðir mengið fróða — argir þrælar eru frá, Indíalandi góða.

XLIII. Hellri ræður hamra þoll, Hólmgríður sú leida, galdra sjjöð er gríðar-troll, gjerir að blóta' og seiða.

XLIV. Úf sjanda krafti fornum slíng, fremur þóju ranga, fram og aptur heims um hríng, hamfor letur gánga.

XLV. Fornam rísa frægbar spor, fékt að ektamaka, hann með slísum heldur kor, hættar jóttir hjaka.

XLVI. Átti hreystin illstu host, arsa þegi teita, Rastor, Eyvind, þar með Prost, þræla létu heita.

XLVII. Borg þeim valda bryðjan göf, búna orma sandi, þriðjung halda illir af, Indíannalaudi.

XLVIII. Öteljandi þræla-þjóð, þar er komin saman, blámann fjanda fylldir móð, fylla hópim ramann.

XLIX. Keysari reysður rauðum seim, ræður Assýria, enginn slíkur er um heim, eðlúr blómi bja.

L. Tvær heim dætur gafan gaf, er góðum ræður lýði, margur letur mikið af, mentum þeirra og prýði.

LI. Fræg sú eina Stóríðá, falda heitir þríður, en ræðuls þreina Rósíðá, reikuast hngri brúður.

LII. Það Germóði frétti eg frá, fálsari yðar sonar, beiddi' um rjóða Rósíðá, rísa sér til quonar.

LIII. Játast brúður bósa vann, blíð, en það tilstilti: að Sertram pruðda fengi hann, fell er reyndi hildi.

LIV. Eck þetta þorði hann, þreki með að þója, þvi með prettum veida vann, vasann yðar niðja.

LV. Veit eg bræður grimmt með geð, sem gusinn höðu randa, álsinn klæða arka með, til Assýria landa.

LVI. Til að hina seima gná, sendir hildar bylja, ungar rínar sína fá, soldir þrætur vilja.

LVII. En mig grunar saddur seim, Sjóli ráð mun vesja; því aldrei mun hann þrautlaust þeim, þær í hendur selja.

LVIII. Sogn um stund af seima við, svo nam haka dvíña; þíngann stundi vísir víð, og vekur ræðu sína:

LIX. Ellin sjóta amar mér, ó minn vinur fragi! annars sjóta sjóldum vér, skavað sjóð að eigi.

LX. Láttu Haki herer strax, hessa um frónið talda, hverr einn taki sára sax, sem þvi fann að valda.

LXI. Senda eg fjóra vyrda vil, Vilhjálm bróður mínum, sverða öra esni til, eins með köppum sínum.

LXII. Þú skalt stjóra þessum þer, þundur bragins reita, og son mínn þyra senda mér, ef svo vill gafan veita.

LXIII. Þessu heita Haki vann, höpur sendimanna, Vilhjálm teita vísir fann, og vektu málið sanna.

LXIV. Rému tamann resir vann, ríkann kalla arfa, Marsíanus heitir hann, hildar suíð til starfa.

LXV. Fara máttu, hjálir tér, frænda þíns að vitja, herð skal átta þúsund þér, þéna stríð að slytja.

LXVI. Greip þá brand og gékk á fley, gram réð queðju hjáta, vedra andi dís um mey, út nam þenja dúfa.

LXVII. Velti drófnin bælu mar, bundu vedra flíkur, fyri stöfnum Frakkland var, fley í hafnir vísur.

LXVIII. Gékk til hallar, Haki fann, hilmirs veitstu bíði, samankallar herinn hann, heldt að þaungla laði.

LXIX. Hlés á dý með hetju fans, héldu þeir samráðir, þrívar tíu þúsund manns, þegnar höfdu bæðir.

LXX. Undan lauði út á haf, állar-banda synda, seglin þanti tylju kaf, klöður andi vinda.

LXXI. Losum heim í þægum byr, að þeysa fyrst um tíma; jég mun heima hyra tyr; hérna endar Ríma.

Fjórða Ríma

Mansöngur

I. Sest eg enn við Sögu-ljóð, svona gengur þetta mér, gefi menn og meyar hljóð, meðan harpa slegin er.

II. Veit eg, segir vyrða lið, vorkun líka til þess er, að ullar þreya vinnu við, vari lángtum betra mér.

III. Af mér fæ eg ekki þó, ull að taka um daga lok, heldur ræ á sövar sjó, sáðísagt þó að vari rok.

IV. En þó eg fulli serin skut, með skröðu þá sem kemur inn, aldrei villist einn í hlut, uppí stríðles-bátinn minn.

V. Í brjóst um kenna mig því má, þó mitið sturlann semji öð, stýrir þenna svinnur sá, sem eg fari þessi ljóð.

VI. Það er þá mín spectarleg, þó svart og bristr hundar vín, að skarpann fái skóla eg, þá skoðuð verka gvæðin mín.

VII. Mansaungs staður mitt í stað, má nú óða og leggjast frá, því vitlaus maður vari það, sem vildi hlýða þetta á.

Narrative

VIII. Aptur við eg efni sest, á skal minnast bræður þrí, þrælar riðu hlunna hest, hneigings landa gotu á.

IX. Sertram bundinn færðu með, fálu kundar hass um leið, bylgjan stundum rymja réð, rendi sunda-jór á steið.

X. Aldan brúna esti jóð, enn þó stundum sundurhjöst, fallur hlúra frísa tóð, froðu spýttu sér um brjóst.

XI. Græðis breiða götu rann, gaf sér aldrei hvíldarbiý, uns hann skeiðið enda vann, Assýreín hafnir við.

XII. Bræður síðan brims um golf, bundu í sjóður reiða mar, heim til ríða hallar tólf, heilsun bjóða Kongi þar.

XIII. Ecki friða fanta þá, falda greina munði reim, vilsi hljóða ístar á, eg skal reyna aÿ ljúsa þeim.

XIV. Nornin ljóða! láttu sjá, ljúsa þeim mér tendu nú! veit eg söðu svarta þá, sjeð ðu esa hefir þú.

XV. Þinni hreinu og helgu sjón, hylst ei fyri skópun nein, gegnum steina, fjöll og frón, fögrum beitir hvarma stein.

XVI. Eckert hár á haussi bar, byrju niður gaddur hrótt, ennið bárum bólgið var, brúna síður svart og ljótt.

XVII. Yfírbyrða argna stór, opnar setti skógnurnar, sem í urðar-glynu-glór, á gemslum létti seri þar.

XVIII. Brúnasíður blakt og styrt, byrgði ljóra hvarma þar, með þremur síðum fríðleik fyrt, fjandans stóra nesið var.

XIX. Í vondum glönum varirnar, vóru ei hjartar til að sjá, skógultennur skonnin bar, steggið svart á bríngu lá.

XX. Hreyfa breiðum hrenglum á, hengdust neglur fyri góm, flípa gleiður Prostur þá, þannig hóf við Sjóta róm:

XXI. Hermóð vanda heilsun frá, Herra Kongur! átti eg þér, Sertram landi Fracka á, feldi hann, það sáum vér.

XXII. Svo að trúið þessu þér, þar með yðar dóttir svinn, Sertram nú í fjötrum er, færður hér í staðin inn.

XXIII. Hermóð sótt í hyfi fann, heljar fjötrum reynður er, en yðar dóttir heitorð hann, handsalaði aður mér.

XXIV. Þessi hest eg heimti nú, að hiklaust verði gefin mér, fosnis reista foldin sú, Stóríðá sem köllud er.

XXV. Auðnu hraður Eyvindur, yðar dóttir hina fær, veit eg maður vyrðir hvarr, að vonum betur giftist þær.

XXVI. Yðar heyra heimtum svo; hilmir talar aptur skjótt: viður eirð verðar hjör, með vonum blundi fyrst í nótt.

XXVII. Dólgar ríða tjalda til, tófu verð, en morgní að, visir ríður vanda-spil, vyrðum sínum greindi það.

XXVIII. Til fylkirs máta fjöldi manns, flndist þegar vernis fól, og baðar dætur blíðar hans, á blómalegan settust stól.

XXIX. Visir þídur vyrða þá, í vandamálum leggja ráð; öllum við í brúnir brá, burtu þótti horfin nöð.

XXX. Enginn halur hranstur mó, hilmir géfa svorin trú; ríf nam tala Rósíðá: ráðasátt er yður nú.

XXXI. Vomum ristum vil eg hér, veitslu bjóðið hér að fá, Sertram líka fylgi hér, svofregann megið tappann sjá.

XXXII. Dður heita þú mátt þeim, þó tilleggja nockurn frest, meðan leita um heilanna heim, hljótum við með ráðin best.

XXXIII. Pengill ráðir þessi ráð, sem prúður klæða hafði sjeð, lætur fæðja svo um láð, seggi standa og Sertram með.

XXXIV. Þrælar skunda leiðri lands, loðings komn hellu í, sjögur hundruð fylgðu manns, fagnar Kongur hyski þvi.

XXXV. Bræður stillir mitkils mat, í mesta leiðri fæðið þar, fanta á milli Sertram sat, fjötrum herðum bundinn var.

XXXVI. Frúrnar stara Sertram á, fér að gvitna ástar-ljóð, síslings rara soninn fá, sérhver vildi klæða-ró.

XXXVII. Aldrei þéttust eðri neinn, annan litið hafa þar, þeirra sótti sjónar-steinn, í setið það, er Sertram var.

XXXVIII. Hrottabrýnir hissa sat, hreyfði ecki máli þar, eckert vín og engann mat, álmarunnur sverti þar.

XXXIX. Bénorð hefur Prostur þá, þengil við í annað sinn; svar tilgéfa sétan má, sjálf, nam greina Keysarinn.

XL. Svarið veitir sorva reim, sendir heiða orma þá: sist að neita sómir þeim, samt eg heita nokkurs má.

XLI. Árs að fresti einum skal, óskar brúðkaups veitsla gjer, mér hið mesta mannaval, meðan bregum saman hér.

XLII. Gautar síða gáfu frest, glaðir bíða gvæðust þeir, handabandi sljóðin fest, fengu síðan bræður tveir.

XLIII. Orlof tófu þeir með það, þessu Kongur seginn varð, síðan aka um hneigings hlað, heim á sinnar móður garð.

XLIV. Í Hólmgríðar höndur þeir, hilmirs bundinn seldu kund, vildi stríð með grímdar geir, granda hal á samri stund.

XLV. En viðir seima vildu hal, veitslu láta bíða þann; slagðið geyma Sertram skal, í sétastock hún setti hann.

XLVI. Aptur taka til þess má, af þýrum seims og greina réð: þegar Haki hafið á, herinn allann lagði með.

XLVII. Strengit hjóta, en rýmur rá, ránar freyja bæturnar, vindar róta viðum sjá, voga sfeiða merarnar.

XLVIII. Bylgjan fría eptir á, elti sunda jóra meir, Assýría höfnum hjá, hlunna bundu fáka þeir.

XLIX. Silkitjöld þeir settu á land, sofa rótt um grímu þar, til hallar oldin hljóð með brand, heim þá nóttin liðin var.

L. Keysarinn þá fregnað fær, að Frakklands kappar vóru það, hesjur svinnar hilmir hjær, hjá sér veitslu þiggja bað.

LI. Spurðu frétta frægðar mann, fylkir nú og dætur hans, Haki réttann sagði fann; síslings dóttir géfur ans.

LII. Þegar nettann Sjóla son, sá eg, strar í huga fló, að hann með prettum hárs á qvon, Hermóðs væri unninn þó.

LIII. Hvar er Plató? hilmirs jóð, Haki aptur svara vann: heima sat ei sá með þjóð, er fysku hlutr frægðar mann.

LIV. Sverða freyr í hernað hér, hefir legið árin þrjú, sá mun eira aÿ vísu vér, vissi hann hvað steðnur nú.

LV. Felldu talið, fór að nótt, fengu spakir hvíldarstað, með skarna val aÿ stípum sljótt, stundar Haki morgni að.

LVI. Þá géngu menn aÿ marar beck, mildring hér til taldar-let, þúsund tvenn hann þegna feck, þar með greifa er Otts hét.

LVII. Segl uppvinda á viðum hyl, voga skrista jórar þá, frá landi fynda í bréðum hyl, blaka dúkar undir rá.

LVIII. Bólgin standa byrs við hjör, á brims landi rúnar jóð, haufar banda herdtu fér, hvossivelgs andi í vængi stóð.

LIX. Bíðu hvannar veldi á, vængja jóku stingið hardt, Indíanna höfnum hjá, hveildír téfu síðan snart.

LX. Með hernum öllum sleðí frá, syrðar þeysa nú um qvöld, fögrum völlum einum á, upp þeir reisa silkitjöld.

LXI. Tólf nú ríða tignar menn, traustum jórum lands um geim, til Hólmgríðar sona senn, sendir véru þessir heim.

LXII. Til hallar gánga og hitta ljó, heima bræður vóru þar, brjóstum spánga boða stríð, bifur Prostur géfur svar:

LXIII. Feigðin óða fer aÿ þeim, fleina rjóðum skils við hrd, engin þjóð um allann heim, oður bjóða þorði stríð.

LXIV. Því skal slengja í feigðar tjón, með sljótum bana yðar hér, fæst nú engin fyrirbón, foringjana hengjum vér.

LXV. Sendimennum addi aÿ, íssfufullur bræðra her, guðstu tennum þeir við það, putu út aÿ forðra sér.

LXVI. Að fjöldum sínum fróns um böl, flýttu sér, og mæltu hátt: þegar stín á sali sól, sótti hér í randa slátt.

LXVII. Seggir vanir vinnu steins, varðir taka þessa nótt, Marianus, Otté einns, innig Haki og þeirra drótt.

LXVIII. Allteins gríma aÿ mér fer, einnig næði mitt eg finn; þessi Ríma þrótin er, þackid, bræður! lesturinn.

Fimta Ríma

Fimta Ríma.

1. Deiga-gná eg vildi fá, vinið Deins bána, hevild þá eg herdi á, hljóðin sná að vana.

2. Lundin hvera lírost fer, ljóða-qveriðvidur, fjerðaun her eg hvartung þér, þvi er ver og mitur.

3. Ríka tefur ljóða stef, lengi eg sef um morga, optast qvef og höfta hef, heimstan vesúr ferla.

4. Ljóða þáttinn þels um gátt, þvigar þráttur qvaða, mér er bágr að hafa hátt, hrovnar máttur aða.

5. Ein er þestin, allra verst, ángríð mest hað hvetur: vinið hest, sem opt fær hrest, ecki sjest í verur.

6. Á flosjum tónum fast ei gróm, sem fullir rjólnin brendi, með þurrann góm og rámann rón, rímna hjóm eg sendi.

7. Boitun er þó vek' eg hér, öllu ver enn forðum, flösju þér þá fólkum vér, sem funist ei hér á borðum.

8. Vjáðar lá vé' mundun sá, mætti þá og hrósa, þú varst hjá mér hýr á brá, kantasnda Rósa!

9. Þá rranmar gróða hrundin rjóð, hjá mér stóð, að vana, mýkrust hjóð af sunni sjóð, saung eg ljóð um hana.

10. Hvar sem fer eg hrósa þér, hrundin hvera alstæða, með nandung hei eg frá þér fer, fleira her til qvæða.

11. Þá gullin fél um grundar-böl, geistann öl dáfseida, þundar fjóla reyndu röl, í randa gjölu stríða.

12. Fjoldin trella-flana úr höll, frau á vellinn treður, horna-kollin herbtu öll, hljómi snjöllum meður.

13. Þangað Haki herinn rakt, hauðrin tofá að fjálsa, liðra qvak og branda brak, huldi þasið álsa.

14. Saman freðir flockum flá, funi gljáir léna, fverðin bláu brynjum á, byrja hða téna.

15. Blámanns þjóð þá afram öð, óma glóðir reiða, rennur blóð, sem fossi flóð, fram um meðu breiða.

16. Kristnir sjá að falla' í strá, frelast nðir réma, einn við þrjá af þrælum má, fexta bláann stjóna [?].

17. Blámanns oldin illstu vold, óðinst tjeldin rífa, og beygla' á fjöldum borðin fold, blóðjins eldur drífa.

18. Herðtu bræður beggin fjæð, hlíni flæða vega, blóð tir slæðir feigra auð, fóru hræðilegra.

19. Lesta rend, sem líf og lönd, líð með gröndum ferrist, titra lönd um lóðinst strönd, sem Loki í böndum hrerist.

20. Blóðs á vellinn bolsuð tröll, boðafollin vaðo, vetja stóll um hristar höll, hóta öllum staða.

21. Kristnir hrundu' í fara sund, fælu funda vona, grimmum undir geira-fund, golnis fundi kona.

22. Runni klárar auða ár, enkt þvi fárið drjúga, reykur hár við himin stár, blunði nár í múga.

23. Drengi þjáir barra sjá, daginn á nær líður, dreka sjá við himin há, í hami grísurn stríður.

24. Þenktu lýðir þá með ní, þar Hólmsgríði fara, vopna stríða vekur hríð, vonðstu hýcið [?] snara.

25. Dróar fáu seggir gá, sem að þjáir ljóði, hverri tá og fingri frá, á fjalla háu gróði.

26. Fellur hverr með feigðar kjer, foldar stór við græna, þvi fervber [?] or nam álma ber, einhvern fjóri ræna.

27. Eitri spjó úr oðra kró, undir þróast viga; mergur dó í dreyra sjó, drengir sjóðir hniga.

28. Að seggjum aða fverðin fjæð, Sigmunds klæði slíta, fára slæði' um blactar hað, holdens æðar fvíta.

29. Óldin hraustu afram brautst, ullar flanstur sniða, með hða raustu á hjálma laust, hyrim traustur stíða.

30. Dauðir nðir falla frá, þar fleinar bláir flaga, vakfost mð um vollinn sjá, í vinda hða flaga.

31. Rélgast böðum njorfa jöð, ní um flóðir allar; kristin hjóð í fjöldin tröð, en tröllin möð til hallar.

32. Sinn við her að Haki tjer, hann þá fer til naða: fáum vér að falla hér, ef fleíra' ei her til ráða.

33. Í branda hríð fyir bestann lið, hún [?] eg smíða vildi, forn Eldgríður fara stríð, slegðu niði stýrdi.

34. Nær Haki má fog horstur tjá, holda knáí fjeldinn, konu hða funni sjá, koma þá í fjöldin.

35. Þar Eldgríði þeckja' um hríð, þegnar síðan gjerðu, beiðdu þíðir leggja ljó, líð í stríði herðu.

36. Eg — hún tjer — ei einfer-er, ánauð þvera' að hamla; hitta fer þá fylgi lér, fóstru hverði gamla.

37. Hlínum randa hefir grand, hertublauðin falla, við Helluland njeð heilla-stand; heldur vandann skála.

38. Fálu ber að finna mér, fögund lér það huga, meðan hér ei hittumst vér, hljóði hér að duga.

39. Svo galdra nornar niði forn, ní ei orni hrecki; af þesju horni hringa þorn, hér um morga drecki.

40. Kerling grá sér burtu brá, bragnar þágu naðir; á fetur má að morgni sjá, mengið endá á laði.

41. Gengu strar um foldar far, til fleina hraðs sig laga, gautar ora unda lar, út til flagsíns draga.

42. Horna köll og hrotta göll, hóta öllum voða, hulja fjöll nær bolsuð tröll, blóðs á vollinn troða.

43. Rísa nðir fól úr sjó, um fælu spáir fríða, hjálma gljáir gyllta á, geistum stráir víða.

44. Sverð ultdró og síðan hjó, serhverr grón njerdur, friður bó, en dreyra sjó, djúpum fló að jörðu.

45. Vals um gaung uj þótti þraung, þrextu saungin stalín, sissu laungum sjjaldar spaung, stíloings straungu bálin.

46. Harðnar-stríð horstum ljó, Hólmagriður kómur, í dreka stríður strock ósíð, skaða hríðir fremur.

47. Eitri sjó með enga ró, og orfumfló á herinn; enginn dó, sem áður þó, eysu flóa verinn.

48. Fisur þer, sem felti um tær, og fingur hærugérdur, niður slær á þjóðir þær, sem Prostur fera verður.

49. Meður hjorf þar vóru gjerf, sem vyrðar dorfa skáta, þessar orvar þau við storf, þvi til herfa baka.

50. Blámanns oldin hríð þau gjeld, blindir holdar stöðu, gnagar fjöld og grímnaís tjó'ð [?], gaura fjöldin óður.

51. Margra fjer þar stióminn stér, stir við, herjans megna, beggia her ní ólmur er, undrum fer að gegna.

52. Hyrr var horð svo hríð ei gjard, hvergi sporðu orbi, þáðu horðin fjfalda forð, stólsur jorð á þrarbi [?].

53. Bragnar ranir beittu gram, branda blam í fjöllum, þrótur gaman þrymja nam, þungt í hamarrellum.

54. Þaða má þar velli á, ísregns hða boða, heftar fráir hauðri á, hnigin nðin troða.

55. Þjóð ótrauða ranðir rauð, á rymmu snautum jörðum, blámanns stauðin biltust dauð, blóðs í rauðum fjörðum.

56. Fat Sigmundar geirá um grund, meðgrímdum sundurflitast; vargar unda svelgðu sund, svofsem hundar bitast.

57. Verður sjúk við fleina sjúk, fjolnis dúka jevðin, haufar strjúka burt af búk, blóðs í vjukka fjörðinn.

58. Þíða tröllum vistku fjöll, veita göllin naða, boðafoll um hristar höll, hóta öllum staða.

59. Rómnu vaða eldum ab, álkur spað ab veiða, stjómablað á fjöldum qvað, stálka naðir sneiða.

60. Hrynur þjóð og hefur flóð, þreyngir að fljóði óma, stymur lóð, en lefur blóð, lengi steð sú róma.

61. Gríma fer að mundum mér, að morgni her eg qvæði, Ríman þver, en þundar hér, þorni léra flæði.

Sjötta Ríma

Sjötta Ríma.

1. Með draumórum eg dragnast nú á fætur, hentast þvi eg held í dag, hægann mér að velja brag.

2. Fjandsins ekki simka Ríman þarna, reyndi á mér hálfsinn hardt; henni' á eg að þakka margt.

3. Útslaði hún útaf mig að drepa, í hjóða verk, sem hjóð er bert; heita er nú útilsverðt.

4. Hjá því, sem að hálfsinn á mér holdi, blessaðir lúngna blaðkarnir, belgðust upp í kverk á mér.

5. Ekki skal eg yptar mína daga, bragi slíka berjast við, það borgar ekki smátíð.

6. Við erum allir vitsprengingar mestu, sem berum við að laga ljóð, landsfins til að hjarta þjóð.

7. Ísland mætti óska hjartanlega; að aldrei saddust á fer meir, snytlinga strákar þeir.

8. En — maustn ekki, Móðir! hvernig forðum, fórnglega Skáld þín góð, — Skjöldungunum farbu ljóð.

9. Haðfir vóru hæfstu þeir í metum, Kónga sinna hægri hlíð, hæstu jafnan sæti við.

10. En vyrðing okkar viltu er til hafa, skeyta lítið strumi því, stiddinganna Monárchí.

11. Ljóða-mentín líst mér þó að heiti; móðir allrar málsnildar, margri þjóð til steintunar.

12. En upplýsing er ekki mikilís verði, hún ei fullir handraðann, og heldur ekki jetast kaun.

13. Samt vil eg þér, faungva gröjau hjarta! þúsundfalðar þakkir tíð, þig eg jafnan kalla á.

14. Þú mér kennir, þrátt og opt að gleyma, öllu því, sem amar mér, og eptir þungar hugsaner.

15. Mikið hef eg meir við þig að tala; en það má bída í þetta sinn, því hér endar Formáltan.

16. Ljóða hurðu lét eg aptur fella, órústan sem ákof stóð, út um völlinn streymdi blóð.

17. Á hverigann þar hallast urði róma, nú skal segja fleiru frá, og Sertrams bróður minnast á.

18. Þrjú ár hafði þessi burtu verið, og framað sig í fleina bul [?], en Fraklands ekki komið til.

19. Var svo einginn vaskur maður í þíssi [?], að hónum neitt þar hefði við, hrotta þegar reindu líð.

20. Sextú skip og siggi marga fræga, hafði sengið betjan trú, heim til Fraklands siglir nú.

21. Sjóli setur sinnum arsa þara [?], hesta og vagna heiðri með, heim í borg svo ferðast reð.

22. Ferðum of og fromaverkum sinnum, segjum gjerði segja frá, Sjóli gladur blýddi á.

23. Öllum þótti ungur Plató hafa, allra bestu farið ferð, sengið gotz og stipa-mergð.

24. Hvar er Sertram hlýri minn ástþjeri? Plató spyrja visir vann, við þá ráðu losnar hann.

25. Harmandi þá hér um segja naðdi, allt um Sertrams ástand þar, einnig hvernig svikinn var.

26. Bólgna tók þá brjóst á ungum kappa, andlít hans varð eins og blóð, upp sir saxi hetjan stóð.

27. Hverr létur hann um ríkið ganga, hvert sem getur borið brand, búi sig um Frakkaland.

28. Meki nockur móti þessu boði, lísandi með laungum fal, síma þann í sundur skal.

29. Skapað var nú saman allrahanda, fólki þar um Frakka grund, sem fengu valdsíð hjör í mund.

30. Óteljandi aö ser brá hann grúfa [?], gyllta brynju og skýndann skjöld, skatna naðri bera elð.

31. Þá allur herinn er til skipa genginn, á Eldgríðar föðlist fund, fylkirs fon, með glaða lund.

32. Mætti hann henni miðjum þá á skógi, hrúfsur tver á baki bar, bjern í fyrir hengður var.

33. Þúnglega hún þrommar leiðir sínar, með byrði þá um þundar-qvon; það var líka meir enn von.

34. Frétti hann: hvert Sertram verí á lífi? Hún nam sanna sögu þá, og sagðist nú þar koma frá.

35. Líka quadst hún lagt þeim ráðin hafa; en enginn kraptur manna má, mellu fonum vinna á.

36. Quadst hún þángað koma bráðum aptur, föstru sinni fúlu meö. Kleina-tyr [?] þá mæla réð: —

37. Haldtu þessi heitord, góða kona! hún quad: það eg efna á, og svo gekk hann brúði frá.

38. Frá Ásýríu er nú það að segja: Rósíðs við sveinninn sinn, svoddann vekur orðróminn:

39. Fara skaltu og finna dverg í steini, Lítur heitir hann, sem þú; þíngað þennann kalla nú.

40. Sveinninn fór, en Suðrí kom aö bragði; þá nam tala forna-vor, þér er búin sendifor.

41. Á Frakkland skaltu fara og Plató hitta, segðu hónum Sertram frá, og fjóstu að hingað komi sá.

42. Að vænleik hans og verti skaltu hyggja, siðum líka og svörum hér, og segðu þetta aptur mér.

43. Oskar Systra snauð greindu hónum, að náðum jatast nauðugar, niðíngs sonum Hólmgríðar.

44. Lítur þaðan leiðir sínar vendi, greinir ei hans ferðum frá, Frakkland þar til kémur á.

45. Það er sagt: að þenna tíma vendi, Plató Dofrafjöllum frá, finnur dverginn stógi á.

46. Lítur þóttist þekja kappann únga, í gylltum seðli gramsfon reið, góðum hleypti jór á skeið.

47. Gullbjart hár á herðum naði liggja, undir hvítri ennis-stör, augun bæði hörð og snör.

48. Réttur sat, með rjéðann finnafarva, herða mikill, hreysti snar, hermannlegur í seðli var.

49. Lítur innir: undrar mig það stórum, að þú, líkt sem þræll og þý, þessum rásar stógi í.

50. Sértu Plató sonur Fraklands tiggja, ér mest fer lof um heilsann heim. Hinn nam svara orðum þeim:

51. Bogar þú, hinn vondi Merar-sonur! að ebla hvílíkt orða raus, af þér skal eg snúsa haus.

52. Lítur segir: láttu það nú bída! farðu heldur frægðar snar, að finna sonu Hólmgríðar.

53. Þinn er bróðir þar í trolla höndum, sendur var eg seggjum frá, að segja yður nauðsyn þá.

54. Sefast naði Sjóla frægur niður, gull hring dvergurinn géfa vann, goðann einn og quaddi hann.

55. Til skipa sinna stunda jörinn létur, fram á dreka einn sem á, óðlings niður stígur þá.

56. Þúsund tvo, sem prosta mestir vóru, valdi hann af sinni sveit, á sunda-jör um flaðar reit.

57. Vísingar far vóru tveir með hónum, Sóti hét og Sámur þeir, seiðmenn vóru báðir tveir.

58. Járnín engin jötuns maka bíta, ferir vóru steins í þrá; síngað hafði Plató þá.

59. Seggir bundu seglin upp við búna, slemntist sundur vinda voð, vendi undan landi gnóð.

60. Létra skal: að Lítur heim nam vitja, Rósíðs hann frída fann, fréttir henni segja vann.

61. Beiddi hún dverginn brynju og hjálm að smíða, sem frægum mundi hersa hal, hér með beittann unda-fal.

62. Hann nam þessu heita úngum sveina. Nú skal Suðra flytja far, fleiri menn til segunnar:

63. Gyldur Kongur Grykja stúrdi fróni, Hrærekur við hrotta ser, hann ser átti dæsur tver.

64. Sextur hétu Sírena og Ása, niðja Kongur einnig á, Ermenrekur heitir sá.

65. Kongsfon þessi kappi var hinn besti, á sumrum reyndi sverða þrá, sat um vetur foður hjá.

66. Við Bíslands Eyar einusinni lagði, ránga þjóna fíklings son; sá á þar á góðu von.

67. Öðrumegin evar ser hann liggja, tígi af skipum talda þrjá, og tígulegann dreka hjá.

68. Úlfur hét, sem átti þeim aö stóra, Baldúlfur hét bróðir hans, blámanns höfðu trylltann fans.

69. Víkingar þeir verstu máttu heita, enginn beit á gaura geir, galdrafullir vóru þeir.

70. Hér var ekki hægt til undanbragða, bardaga þeir bjóða strar, bitrann þrísu unda lar.

71. Ermenrekur eggjar garpa sína, að leggja fram um laxa kör, liðsmunur þó væri stór.

72. Sverð útdróu, samanstóðu flota, blámanns lennir eldin öð, íta krenur hold og blóð.

73. Mannafallið sjótt svo hallast náði, við aðsetu harða á Ermenrek, ekki sparði hann þó þrek.

74. Hans var stand í hversta vanda komið; eg mun fara fyrir hann, að finna varann hjálpar-mann.

75. En hann má bída hér og stríða á meðan; kallar gríman quæða vín, kémur Ríman seinua hín.

Sjöunda Ríma

Mansöngur

I.
Enn skal renna Regins fley,
rétt í settann tíma,
við þennann senning freysir mey,
þétt skal slétfast Ríma.

II.
Drag eg laga ljóð um hríð,
við ljóð ef ljóðsin una,
fagrann slag eg blíðum bjóð,
bjóði móðu sina.

III.
Oðin góður! þvur bið,
um eggja hreggið stríða,
ljóða ljóðum lið með fríð,
að leggja, ef seggir hlýða.

IV.
Þína fína bjáður náð,
þarf eg starfið viður,
uin nú dvína báða ráð,
þó bjartur farvist líður.

V.
Láttu ei máttinu linna þinn,
ljóða ljóð
að prýða, fátt við þáttinn funn eg minn,
þjóðin rjóð sem hlýða.

VI.
Lag mun baga lund um stund,
larist eg bæstum hægia,
jaga um fagunr funðings sprund,
fast til narstu bæa.

VII.
Stundar lundin fríð um hríð,
stagað lag að smíða,
kundar fundinn blíðum bjóð,
brag í dag að hlýða.

VIII.
Bjáður náðar frómann dóm,
felldu hreiðan yfir,
ljóðu ráð með sóma róm,
seldu heldur skrifi.

IX.
Mansaungs dansinn minn eg finn,
máðann tjáður bagur,
lantsins glansa linna um finn,
laðum fráður brágur.

Narrative

X.
Latur sat við ljóða ljóð,
lónga að fánga blundinn,
Plató gat með geða þjóð,
gánga á ránga hundinn.

XI.
Snoða upp voð á hniðings buð,
hindur lindar steiða,
boðar gnoða gniðu sið,
grindur strinðar freiða.

XII.
Fennur enn þó freisti um leið,
fánga gáng að vonum,
nenna að renna um reiðar heið,
ránga lángvísjomum.

XIII.
Þar sem var með þrá að slá,
þjóðin blóðug farva,
bar að marar maí þá,
móða af slóðum karfa.

XIV.
Þá um lá ní þreya fley,
þundar mundar jaka,
sjá að Fraklands svegja Ey,
funda hunda spaka.

XV.
Ermen-stér med skaða nað,
sjótt þar dróttir rekur,
herstíp sér ní hraða að,
hljótt því óttast tekur.

XVI.
Dreka ósekur ferja bor,
síðast stríða lítur,
ekur þrekinn er var gjör,
med svíl prýði nýtur.

XVII.
Mann einn þar mó eg sjá,
á marar fari standa,
þann er spannar þá um brá,
þera staríð landa.

XVIII.
Háríð klára hreinast stein,
á hel er stal þeim sendur,
fóra báru beinann tein,
ball vala strendur.

XIX.
Hann spyr mann: hverr hái þó,
hríð mjög stríða óma?
vann hið sanna fá að þjá,
sjóhests viðir hjóma.

XX.
Bíður líð að leggja að segg,
í tensu dansí meður,
viður yðu eggja hregg,
ansar kransa bjóður.

XXI.
Sómi frómnur, sver eg er,
sæðum varð að finna,
sjómi í rómu floti hér,
sjær þá erðu flinna.

XXII.
Plató bata bíður líð,
blóðs hann tróð til valla,
hoatur gat í griðar stríð,
geður ar þjóðir kalað.

XXIII.
Beitum sveitum stöðugt lið,
sóta ljóta faiðum,
þreitum beitann þriðja fríð,
við þríóta í sjóta hríðum.

XXIV.
Þrátt ei mátt sjá þorna vorn,
þjóðin rjóða stýldi,
máttar sláttur horna horn,
með hljóða gróður fylldi.

XXV.
Bist við hristast brondíngs lend,
blóðið slóði æða,
rista og qvista rend með hend,
rjóðir bjóðar skæða.

XXVI.
Knúr, fá við klóta rót,
laudar dauðann sóða,
bláinenn knúr brjótast mót,
bauð þeim nauð að stríða.

XXVII.
Brœður æða í branta grand,
þjr þar þír ei fritur,
lodist æða landaband,
í lyra-mýri niður.

XXVIII.
Flóðiblóð um baleiðs sal,
barmavarma skaðar,
oðar þjóðir ala sval,
arma farms gunnlaðar.

XXIX.
Á steiðum breiðum stjóna hljóm,
sjóðir fæða og trega,
frá bleyðum leiða blóm
með róm, brœður hrœðilega.

XXX.
Svíðrís viður sólin gól,
sárhvern hverann hrœkur,
siðugur niður Sjóla fól,
sjer og Ermenrekur.

XXXI.
Fleina óseinir freyrar tveir,
frýlgðu mildings arfa,
greinast reyna geira þeir,
gyldir hildi að starfa.

XXXII.
Sóti ljótur sveitir sleit,
og Sámur skrámu niður,
bóta sjóðir beita hneit,
blámenn ráma viður.

XXXIII.
Á bræðra ekra báru mál,
blíður síðan náði,
æða slæða ár við sár,
svíl stríðul hæði.

XXXIV.
Flaðir sjáðir freyrar tveir,
fánga stángir gana,
niðu í graði geira þeir,
á gángdýr ránga að flana.

XXXV.
Óttast drótt þann undvargs fund,
er fá herinn vekur,
sjótt á þoptu fundinn hund,
fer og Ermenrekur.

XXXVI.
Hríð að ljóbi herða sverð,
hrynda yndi í bana,
snúðast víða verdur gérd,
á vindalindar grana.

XXXVII.
Þrásir slá svo hreyðst í neyð,
hjóðin sóða stríða,
blár fá ní bleyður deyð,
blóðið slóði víða.

XXXVIII.
Plató gat ní gróðar ljóð,
grandað brands í eldi,
flatir hvata, hríð var stríð,
handar sanda viðir.

XXXIX.
Brýtur rís fá byrðdí kyrrd,
ber svo herinn glanna,
hrýtur ita hyrð óvyrð,
hverr um hverann annann.

XL.
Stjalda hjaldur heir fá,
hann ljóss spannar grana,
bastaðs galdur gáir sjá,
glannar kanna bana.

XLI.
Stundar hundur hreckja að reck,
á hjálminn stálmín bundí,
undan sundur ecki geck,
álma máluta fundí.

XLII.
Heggur skrógg, en hneit ei beit,
hrímþuss stim við sverða,
glöggur svöggt við geit uu reit,
glimu stim uani herða.

XLIII.
Lengi fengust flóðin móðs,
faungin straungin viður,
slengir drengur slóðum blóðs,
slaungul laungum niður.

XLIV.
Laut med þraut fyrir leggblíts igg,
ljótur sóta kundur,
braut í fauta bygginn hrygg,
brístur sjóta sundur.

XLV.
Brennu spennis braðd ní keit,
unedbordi bordi vaða,
menu þvi kenna máltu þrátt,
morðið korða-blaða.

XLVI.
Gallíð stalla gráir fá,
sem greina á hreina uaní,
falla allir frá sem má,
fleina reynir kunní.

XLVII.
Á stríóða óða skáruss sár,
slétur þrélsinu brandinn,
um slóð af blóði báruss ár,
í breka freka sandinn.

XLVIII.
Rífast hlífar, hryndi á grund,
hróðug þjóð, sem þendi,
hjfast knísar unda um stund,
oðum blóðið freyndir.

XLIX.
Skerdast gérd á stríóða þjóð,
er stunda á fundinn svánga,
sverðin herda hljóðin ueð,
hundar stuðu ránga.

L.
Ánnir kanna, úðí nað,
af var stafsinu fríður,
hann þvi ann að hafi ráð,
í hafið kafar niður.

LI.
Sjóðir hljóta stróðnar nám,
sjálfsa hjálfar frennur,
mótí Sóta og Sámí blán,
sjálfur Úlfur kémur.

LII.
Halur skal ní heyra meir,
þar herdast sverð í blóti,
að hvali galinn geira freyr,
gerði verda í slóði.

LIII.
Halir tvalir há ei þá,
hríðir stríðs ólínir,
hvalir svalann sjóinn á,
siðan stríða hínir.

LIV.
Gáðu að bræðum greiða steíð,
grand féck fjandi becður,
af baðum þaði bleyðan deyð,
í blandíð andhvals sockur.

LV.
Með sómann fróma á seiðar leíð,
siðan stríðí létta,
ljósminn óma streíð í seíð,
sem strýðir þryðin netta.

LVI.
Siðan bíti hróðrar hljóð,
hljóbi ljóðir þjóðir,
blíðan strjóðí fróðu sjóð,
með fríca prýðí um síðir.

Áttunda Ríma

Mansöngur

I.
Dvínar mátt ef ljóðin lengjum,
letí bráðt eg vara sún,
sjóng eg þrátt á stíðrum strengjum,
stesja kóttinn veikan minn.

II.
Líta velur líljan bauga,
stríð geldur verðkaupit,
þar er heltur ekkert auga,
að mér hrellðum veiti líð.

III.
Odin bað eg innilega,
þá áðan quað og Mansöngs grein,
un dísa mjadast oldu trega,
en eíns var það eg berja í stein.

IV.
Þó og hrín' nú fað í verður,
þegí bvín hans lundiðb harðt,
a! mér spuist ekkí betur,
enn Odin víluð gefi spart.

V.
Sveí þér, Odin! ab þér niður,
og með hljóðum bonar tromp,
niðungs söðinn! mér, því miður,
mátti' eí bjóða Þínu-staup.

VI.
Þab með gleði, víl eg vona,
varí steð mín beíðní slík;
hesti' eg beðíð Boga svona,
með blísígu geðí' um lítíð tár.

VII.
En — þú, Þriðji! vastun vomnum,
vílt eí studja hjóðín mín,
í þig riðja skal eg flomnunum,
Skrattinn bitsí sig um vín.

VIII.
Þú mátt styggur frísa' og frepda,
og stúla tiggja svín þá,
et stal liggja' af þúmm greiða,
þó mér liget noduð á.

IX.
Eínir berar banir qveifja,
sem hjarga ser víð vinuð þitt,
en fýrir mér þeir mega sleisja,
munn á þér og líta hitt.

X.
Þú ert ræmður þrátt af slegtum,
þú ert slamdur lastabaus,
þú ert samdar brotínn nagstum,
þú ert dæmdur ætulaus.

XI.
Þó lítínn hróðar lastagjarna,
líðan moða fáí sit,
þab mun söðast samt að tarna,
Sagan hljóðar þannig nú:

Narrative

12.
Hróðrar glósan hætti moða,
hníðings sjósa jörum á,
sígri hrósa hetjur góðar,
hrana ljósin slíðra blá.

13.
Síðan binda segl við húna,
svölðarlindin geispa sór,
runnu hindur reiðarstúna,
rumdi vinda þússinn stór.

14.
Boðar freyða bulsa-örum,
bylgjan reið að stósmum há,
gnoðir steíða í stríkum stórum,
steinbíts heiðar gotum á.

15.
Strengir hjóta á brímla búðum,
bogna hljóta sigla rár,
stablar brutu sig á síðum,
sunda stjótast síngur már.

16.
Skar í sundur breíða boða,
blakkur sunða veginn tröð,
brjóstum undan freyðir froða,
fallín hrundu ránar jóð.

17.
Fram að grundu Griekja hafta,
geira sundar tamir brandí,
í Stólpasundum strengjum kasta,
stíga mundu þar á land.

18.
Ermenrekur foður freigann,
fann og þrekinn Plató meðr,
frætta rekur róminn nægann,
þá ranðir séku um þorstabeð.

19.
Til hallar rjóður reistí branda,
reckum bjóða gjörðí svo,
dryckju góða vann að vanda,
véifstan stóð í daga tvo.

20.
Vann svo líða í góðu gyldi,
gjörð med þrýdi veitslan sú;
Plató bíða við el vildi,
vísir fríðann gvæður nú.

21.
Hjá Plató undí Ermenrekur,
álma þundi fylgja reð,
herss þúsundir tólf hann tekur,
þírs af þrúndi líta með.

22.
Köngunn líðan gvöðdur fnjallir,
af hvorum ríður sveitín herð,
báru stríða ormar allir,
útla víða þaunglá-jörð.

23.
Að svarðarböndum stíllt nam strísja,
stafna oðin sérhver þar,
byljsir þondu breiða búksa,
byrgðu lond í djúpunn mar.

24.
Vargur stísa varð á móti,
við Phrýgiu og estí tröpn,
elda dýa askar sljótir,
að Assýríu ferðust hösn.

25.
Hunda ránga bundu búna,
við bryggju tanga heísta gvöld,
á drottins hánga fóru frúna,
forðar spánga og reístu tsjöld.

26.
Lítur þá í þanka svinnur,
þordi gá í staðinn inn,
Rósíðá hann rjóða finnur,
réttí sá frám herklæðin.

27.
Nú mun heit eg hef þér unníð,
hann svo veitir undín svinu,
líta geitís ljóminn þunni,
Laurfi heitir brandurinn.

28.
Nú er hinn við höfnir þínar,
herklæðin sem bera skal,
meíðir svimnum söla rínar,
sömír stinnaun bera sal.

29.
Plató mét eg vind nam vesja,
vísó eg snotin fjori það,
lét og sjétann herinn hressa,
og hafna njóta í þessum stað.

30.
Rósíðá nam ræðu brýna,
er rjóðann má og Plató sá,
laun ósma fýrir sistir þínar,
lausa þá skalt njótur sjá.

31.
Talíð fenn þau síðan slíta,
seggír kóma þessa eí,
borgarmenn að morgní líta,
mörg aðrenna höfðingí fleý.

32.
Þá vísír kenndur víta næðí,
vopna bendir hver þeím réð,
Jarl eínn sendí' að selalóðí,
sómarkenndum flocki meðr.

33.
Hánu stal bjóða hilmís arfa,
heim med þjód til veítslannar,
raxsí jóð med rjóðrann farva,
reíð um stóð, þá, bodinn var.

34.
Með þúsund manna bjésst til borgar,
bíður hramnar hjéssa-thr,
enginn fann þar esní sorgar,
til oðíngs ranna hjoðin sýr.

35.
Í turnum stjörum mílsíng mætur,
magnast æra' og gleðí laung,
með hljóðtæurum ljósum letur,
lángann nara strengja fauurg.

36.
Þar nær fínna lundur hljóðar,
hljísann fínna Keísfarann,
gvedsjur ínnast báðum blíðar,
boðin inn var hrepstímann.

37.
Sjólí teítur sér hið nærssta,
settí beítir spjóta þá,
líka sveitín gullí glaersta,
í gílsa reít nam setí sá.

38.
Dryckju fagra doglíng bísa,
borva braga lœtar þá,
fullír slaga sljst og spula,
stóð um daga veítslan þrjá.

39.
Blíðann gretír bráðns fitja,
beiddu dætur Keísfaranns,
fínn í mæta salinn vitja,
meðr sóna, hjartí, leíf og dáns.

40.
Plató ööt og Ermenrekur,
arla' um nóttu þángaðr réð,
ser af dróttum tugí tekur,
þyrinn gróttu sáða meðr.

41.
Kríssar jyllí frúín bidur,
fyrstum stíllí hugar-þrá,
fystra' á milli Sjóla niður,
sat med sníllí veítslu þá.

42.
Ðsundsjækí víll mín vitja,
að vekja um píkur ljsóðagjörð,
hrúdum slíkum hjá að sitja,
er hímmaríkí á vorrí jörð.

43.
Aö hafa holla á borði framan,
meö blét í föllu stúlkum hjá,
þat veít stóllinn, þab er gaman!
þab eg hollast lánið sá.

44.
Hjá fögrum ala brístum blóma,
blíðu mál aö hesja svinn,
og drecka' af stálum raudann rjóma,
ríka sölar verð eg finn.

45.
Þaö eg sver: minn hrana hegrí,
helð eg hjerí slíkann síð,
veít eg eru eckí fegrí
Englanníf enn Övenusblíð.

46.
Þarna sat hjá lauka lindi,
lengí Plató, drucku gladt,
farna gat hann átt með yndi,
elsfu hvatur loginn spratt.

47.
Meö sér beiðír gylðann gánga,
geymir steiða meyan svinn,
aö stala leiðir stísír spánga,
skjær framgreíðir herklæðin.

48.
Beiðdí rísann bendir stjóma,
aö berá slík og þiggja af sér,
seldi líka sverðið ljóma,
sigtúrs slíka ungum ver.

49.
Sendir steíta mál nam minda:
menja teít þig beiði' eg lín:
engin heít við adra binda,
því aptur leíta mun til þín.

50.
Lenstir mæðu laungum brísam,
ljúst eg slæda beíðí guð:
aö víð bræður, ef við lísum,
ydcar næðum blíðu sá.

51.
Kjærleiksboðin súð eg sléttti,
um srjálsa önd í huggsu bú,
mjúka hond frámmæta réttí,
menja strend og lofar því.

52.
Aö þesu búnu brjótar spánga,
baðum frínum gveðju tjá,
frám aö búnahestum gánga,
hefsa núna segl við rá.

53.
Dundí í voðum strengir stúnja,
stundum froðu fnerinn voð,
numdi aö boðum hangar hrunja,
hrundu' á gnoð um ránar jóð.

54.
Taka aö strjúka sílar stóða,
slæðar héla gínurnar,
blaka dúkar hla ebar,
allar hjóla línurnar.

55.
Reiðinn þístur rúnar hafla,
reíðinn síjstir leiðunum,
steiðin brýstur brúnir stafla,
á breiðum hvítings heiðunum.

56.
Synda' án vanda vann á stöðí,
vinda handist mundin blá,
hryuðar aö landí hrannar jöðin,
bindum handa' á Indíá.

57.
Finnur þaka hópur manna,
af hrotta sjákí spyrja heim;
innír spaður allt hið sanna,
ílla takísst stríðið þeím.

58.
Njótar stjóma naðu bvolum,
nú meö sóma grímu þá,
en nær ljómar sól í sólum,
sveitín fróma-upp reð stá.

59.
Brag ósíðann bráðt og tæri,
búin síðan klæða reim,
því gyldur qvéðí göðið særit,
aö gúnga í stríðið út meö þeim.

Níunda Ríma

Níunda Ríma.

1.
Reyna hljóða máttinn má, meín ef góðir hljóða,
þó stími blóð í stjórna þrá, stal eg ljóðin sníða.

2.
Eg skal hræðast ecki þar, að efna gæði hildar,
þó heitar æði hetjurnar, af harmi og bræði fyldar.

3.
Drynur org og hljóðin há, hristist torg á þræði,
þrostur morgni þossum á, þeysti af borg med æði.

4.
Í griðarmóði gnaga skjöld, og grenja hljóðum meður,
í stríðið vóð hans strúkkaöld, storkið blóðið veður.

5.
Tönnum kauðar gnýstu grá, með grímð um hauður strjúka,
beiptar stauð með hnesum slá, og höggva bauka búka.

6.
Ut af fjöldum þángað þá, þeysti eldínu fríða,
gnúta fjöldu gljáir á, og glærstaunn fjöldann þíða.

7.
Platò kríng með listum lék, að lensþíngum spretti,
í arm fylkíngar Ermenrek, anunn slúngur setti.

8.
Marianus heldur hinn, og Safi vanur lífi,
Platò manar menn um sinn, margra að bana lífi.

9.
Á samri stundu skelldi á skeíð, skarpur fundur spjóta,
Platò undan öllum reíð, einn á fundinn þrjóta.

10.
Tók að rísta af mik'um mætt, manna tvísta búka,
einö og qvisti hrisíð hrætt, heilatistur siúka.

11.
Ljósni saung, þá listamann, lesti spaung með banni,
ruddi gaung um herinn hann, blísði engum manni.

12.
Rognir nýtur vísti tjöld, reöi lítíð eíra,
falla blýtur lísstu öld, undir spýta dreyra.

13.
Átta menn í höggí hann, hjó, svo kénni bana,
blóð í rennum belsa vann, bliss hann spennir grana.

14.
Nymman er ní aríð stór, eggar stera þegna:
allur herinn avazt fór, undrum fer að gegna.

15.
Hardt var stríð um hreindýrs lá, holdar qvíða þágu,
Hólmagriði þángað þá, þegnar stríða sáu.

16.
Bósum snauðum bilti hún við, blóðs á rauðu móðum,
uppá hauður syrtir fríð, fantar dauðir stóðu.

17.
Margir bana fengu fljótt, frélbuist hana þjóðir,
kóstið grana dtauga drótt, í djófuls slanar móði.

18.
Rífsir skaka af skemmdar mætt, með fjöllum qvaka blindum,
undirtaka hamrar hátt, heyrðist brak í tindum.

19.
Hólmagrídur heillalaus, herðti stríðíð rama,
eitri spýði og eldi gaus, yfir lýði frama.

20.
Sjá menn Gamm einn stríða sjótt, stógar fram af leiðum,
reyndi hramma slugíð fljótt, að fótbíts þrannmar meíðum.

21.
Eitríð flóði úr ýðra krá, ills til ljóðir vona,
bósta móðu hryglu þá, hafði hún, góða kona!

22.
Bjó að kauðum bana sótt, blóðs við rauðar ýður,
líka dauðir draugar sjótt, duttu á hauður niður.

23.
Hólmagrídur gamnum mót, gjerði stríð að vetja,
í dreka hýði dragnar ljót, djófuls niðíð freka.

24.
Með skaka æði slóst, ótta gaf það þínum,
fram af hafi dreki dróst, dýmmum vasinn skýnum.

25.
Á drekann stóra ráðast réð, reyndi klóra strókur,
repfst ní óra æði með, ecki tór sá flókur.

26.
Loptíð dýnur, óhljóð org, út úr gínum slauna,
í fjöllum drynur, belja bjerg, beðjan stýnur grana.

27.
Blóðs á völlum hraustur hér, heyrði stólín stóra,
fálluft öllum hendur hér, horfa á trollin fóru.

28.
Nú á dýmmu næði slá, við nauða þrýmmu trega,
Gyðjur rýmmu ráðast á, og rífast grimmilega.

29.
Þeirra óra hríð var herð, blutu klóra skjæða,
drekinn stóri datt á jörð, bundi sjórinn æða.

30.
Þá með þrýði þegnar sjá, er þreptu stríðíð freka,
þar Hólmgrídur látin lá, laus við hýðíð dreka.

31.
Líka fundust fósstur tvær, falla á sprundíð grana,
floktu fundur, ferðar næer, af sögðum fund til bana.

32.
Alma þórar allir þar, aptur fóru' að stríða,
undrum stórum aukinn var, æða sjórinn víða.

33.
Platò ríður brandz úr byl, bendir stíða mætur,
Hólmagríðar helliz til, hestinn stríða lætur.

34.
Í hamra=ranni hrínga=tyr, heyrði manna læti;
einn svo vann að inna' órir: ofs er bann að kjæti.

35.
Hræðist eg mín fóstra frí, fári þegar mæti,
Sertram vega vil eg því, svo vyrðar rega sæti.

36.
Platò inn þá æða vann, með unda linna beinum,
tólf þar finnur hrotta hann, sem heldu á stinnum steinum.

37.
Illir sitja elds við gleð, en orma þvíta viður,
tók að hrytja trolla þjóð; tríst' eg þryti fríður.

38.
Haufinn spánga hístur rauf, af haura dránga einum,
endilángann anann klauf, aula stángar steinum.

39.
Tíu ærast tröll ósmá, tindar þrerast bláir,
frægann sara segginn þá, sýnir hæru=gráir.

40.
En allir seldir bols í bann, bana hreldir kenna,
gaura selda vastur vann, í vermum eldi brenna.

41.
Mörg nam blæða opín und, á eyðir fjæðum klóta,
lá á sverði líta stund, og lætur mæði þrjóta.

42.
Næsta styrður stóð upp þá, stóla hyrðir téður,
mæðum byrgðann bósa sá, blunda kyrðum meður.

43.
Vaknar fjanda vinur sá, voða grand sér kéndi,
stýgnur þandi og slipa frá, fúlann anda sendi.

44.
Bæri' eg stundum æstu á, — illstu hnuður segir —
á mínum fundi þrellinn þá, þrífazt mundi egi.

45.
En túngu eg njóta minnar má, núti brjóti eggja,
þú stalt hljóta það eg á, þig með blót vil leggja.

46.
Gaurinn taptur þoldi þiað, þretínn raptur stíða,
með geysi krapti geirinn vazt, gögnum kjaptinn víða.

47.
Razt upp org úr ráunum qvíð, vennur torgur æða,
hamra torgíð hristist við, og helliz bolgin sjæða.

48.
Gaurinn drundi syrtuz stíð, salma mundu tengur,
fast með undur fæðist við, fletíð sundur gengur.

49.
Eitri spúði úr hálsi hann, hardt sem gnúði salur,
í aungvit líður líta vann, lista þríður halur.

50.
Eptir fall og aungvitíð, inn í fjalli trauður,
kappinn snjalli vaknar víð, var þá karlinn bauður.

51.
Hreysti mann í hildar rock, hurðir vann að brjóta,
bundinn fann í fótastokk, Sertram granni spjóta.

52.
Kappinn framur fremd sem bar, frek er bagar þína,
rís og magur vorðinn var, um vonda daga sína.

53.
Mesti fundur fagnaðar, með frændum mundi verða,
leysti bundinn bróður þar, blísður lundur sverða.

54.
Horn eitt sekð þeim frægðir bar, frægðar verkur nýtur,
hinn nam drecha hvergi spar, harður ecki þýstur.

55.
Lúkast finnur þróttinn þá, þetta svinnann stydur;
æsi sinni síðan frá, sagði linna viður.

56.
Þá hellirs tróð úr háum sal, hans og bróður svinnur,
blackinn góða Búsefþal, bauga njóður finnur.

57.
Platò sindar hjalíð hátt, hjerð við blíða þórinn:
þú Eldgríði þacka mátt, þennann fríða jörinn.

58.
Sig herkfæða brjótar brandz, birníz þræða tauma,
brótt til æða bardagans, þar benja slæða straumar.

59.
Flerst var líðíð falslíð, á, feigðar miði gifta,
hofnir friði þegnar þá, þræla niðurrifta.

60.
Fram nú berast bráðburner, bóta sér til vona.
Ríman fer að hætta hér, hún má vera svona!

Tíunda Ríma

Mansöngur

1. Mér er orðið lítíð leíðt, ljóð að sitja viður, þeirri tíð er ílla eyðt; sjá, þvi er miður!

2. Hvíldir vil eg feginn fá, og fræðið láta bída, þvi skal nýna esnið á, endahníðinn ríða.

3. Þó heimskulegum háttum að, hendíð gamanraddur, atla' mig gyldi ekki þad, einu — góðir bræður!

4. En kostur einn, ef að er gott, öðnum fulgir tjéda, flerstir munu sofsa sætt, sem hann fara' að kveda.

5. Líta um vetrar vísturnar, vari kvæðin glósa, stöðvast kann vað stokurnar, stílkan mín, hún Rósa.

6. Sofni hún við saunginn þá, svosem mengið fleíra, gét eg maski henni hjá, hallad mér á eyra.

7. Þó sinni mínu sjási að, sleína stýr og kona, engann vardar ogn um það, eg má raula svona.

8. Leiðindi þá hrelldu hag, og hilsin tók að senna, rírann lét eg Ríma brag, renna úr styrðum penna.

9. Þó mér yrði orðaslátt, opt um ljóða-setur, lasta mega þenna þátt, þeir, sem gjöra bettir.

10. Þó má líta öldin á, ef að ljóðum finnta, nún á ekki marðar stró, mikils til að vinna.

11. Þó stáld mig falli flatnar þá, er sjali mínu hljóda, þeir skulu engar þackir fá, þad má gjarnau bída.

12. Nær grafar fæ eg holu hitt, heims að frotnum ama, þó nafn eí lengi lifi mítt, eg lát mér standa á sama.

13. Þvi nær mig geymir grafar-beð, og góða varð eg kanna, eg held eg muni hæðast med, ad þrósi og lasti manna.

14. Til hvers er ad yrkja þá? eg vil sjálfur gégna: til ad reka þjón strá, og freistni hugar megna.

15. Jeg mun gjöra endíng á, ad yrkja Mansaungs-raddur, héina er Sagan, hana þá! hljóðid góðir bræður!

Narrative

16. Þar var Ríman dýr öll, álmar sungu á gerðum, kristnir bragnar fengu föll, fyrir þræla sverðum.

17. Valurinn þatti víða löð, í voðabýngjum háum, í tjörnum blóðid storknad stóð, stísluð dauðum náum.

18. Höfuð manna lágu lágt, um land, í stórum flockum, en blinkar náðu í himin hátt, af hesta- og manna-strockum.

19. Boðinn hjúpar vyrða þjóð, vals um djúpa ranna, nóði drjúpa dauda blóð, úr digrum stríðspun manna.

20. Fálma' og sparka faknir brádt, og fótalaustr rísa, stornir barkar brynja dátt, og dauda-blódi frýsa.

21. Dauðir spritla í dreyra tjörn, í dýminum fjörð umbrotum, feck þar mikla fylli örn, flerstir vóru ad þrotum.

22. Höld í böndum reyrast réð, risa-þjóð til bana, sæti' og höndum sálma med, fantar höfuðvana.

23. Tröllín grenja' og ólmast enn, eldín hvísur stríða, ormar benja marga menn, mundu gégnum skríða.

24. Kóngs son Plató þors við dans, drjúgum fulltíst meðr, þá litíd gat, ad líðíd hans, lásíð flaut í blódi.

25. Við Sertram segir svíanur nú, sendir handar-steina: viður Eyvind ettir þú, illann stríð ad reyna.

26. Jeg mun taka þreslínu þrest, þó med blaki ólinn, í djúpa aka dreyra rost, þjósuls hrakkenninu.

27. Ermenrekur! eins þú átt, ad þér Rastor taka, ef ber þú þrek og misar mátt, mestu son ad blaka.

28. Svo ef kys í sæng hjá þér, systir mína hjarta; öður vifa máttu mér, ad manns þú berir hjarta.

29. Ef ekki dauda' í eggja síð, aulum kunnid veíta, skulud blaudar byksjur síd, báðir eríd heíta.

30. Þá Sertram heyrir svaddan svar, sá eí eirir meíra, hestinn keyrir orku er, yfir leirinu dreyra.

31. Eyvind fundíd frægu-r mann, féck um torgid vída, Merar fundur! — kallar hann — komdu nú ad stríða!

32. Þresllinn módí gleítur géck, geymir frægum ríta, högg af spjóti havsín féck, en hvergi nódi bíta.

33. Kóngsson stundar alns ad igg, svo ausinn falla bljótur, Sertram fundur fólans hrygg, í fjórum stodum brjótur.

34. Platò þá ad Presti rann, þvi nam heggi slíta, en hann sá ad eggjar þann, ekki máttu bíta.

35. Hleypur undir almu njörd, öðlings fundur njótur, felldi hundinn hardt á jörd, hrygginn sundurbrótur.

36. Ermenreki ama hjó, argur sálu fundur, Rastor, þvi ad hestinn hjó, hans um bóga sundur.

37. Begðar biður hinn eí hót, hlynir freyju-tára, eikiviðar reyf upp rót, og rak í haus á dára.

38. Stallinn klosnar, höggín hörd, hausinn sundurmolaš, þresllinn dofnar, datt á jörd, daudann nódi þola.

39. Þannig bræður þjádi fár, þvi varð margur feginn, svei þeím baðí síd og ár! svóna fóru grein.

40. Eptir mæðu misíd stríd, máttu verðir kjósa, áttu bræður samt um síd, sigrí þá ad hrósa.

41. Jötnar galdir fríd nú fá, er forðast máttu hildi, upp var haldid haudrí á, hreinum friðar-skildi.

42. Holdar stípta herfángi, handar-mjallir fánga, þjöldum sveiptu, svo ad hlje, seggir allir gánga.

43. Sídan laadi sleyin frá, fögur nenna' ad strjúka, vinda andi undir rá, út nam þenja þúka.

44. Undan stja skórum þá, skarþir vindar þjóta, Assýríu hösnum hjá, holdar seglin brjóta.

45. Af strengja-vagni folkíd fleyrst, fljótt til hallar treður; systur fagna bræðrum best, bliðu hótum meður.

46. Sisar þeckir Sjóla hjá, síðan veitslu laga, brúðkaup drecka þegnar þá, þrenna tígi daga.

47. Platò ríka Rósídá, í recku saðma vonar, Sertram lísa Slóríðá, festi sér til gvonar.

48. En vær dryckjan ekki meir, ítum gaman veitti, fram ad Grickja fróní þeir, fóru allir saman.

49. Hvareks dótra beiðdu brádt, bræður medur hilli, Sakí mætur Asu dtt, únga gat med snilli.

50. Sóreinu þad Sagan tjer, semda tamur verki, máttu fá til maka sér, Maríanus sterki.

51. Á öldu-blacka eptir þad, þar gengu snjallir, landi frakta fóru ad, Fóstbræðurnir allir.

52. Aslaug dóttir Arti grams, Ermenrek til maka, fágad gnóttum funa damms, fríd svo nódi taka.

53. Heím til Gricklands hann fór þá, hatti söknum víga, Kóngdóm tók, þá feígur frá, fadir hans nam hníga.

54. Sertram styrdi Sracka grund, fódurs eptir daga, lísdi marga lukku-stund, laungum fyrrtur baga.

55. Platò dra-erni staut, til Assýríu ad bragdi, Keysara tign med Krónu hlaut, en karlsinn af sér lagdi.

56. Í góðri elli allir þeir, enduðu sína daga; ekki veit eg um þad meir, úti' er þessi Saga.

Poet's Farewell

57. Eg er hreint med öllu frá, esnid þegar bvinar; faríd síd ad slacka þá, Sertrams Rímur mínar!

58. Þeir skulu engar þackir fá, sem þáttin nita ljóda, hinir, sem ad hljóðdu á, haldi mér til góda.

59. Um ártal nær eg orkti þær, ekki held eg quedi; gyldir ekki einu nær, eda hvar þad stédi?

60. Sá, sem orkti saunginn máls, sjá ef kunnid manninu: Længur er med lotinn háls, ljósist honum þanninn.

61. Taki vid og þiggi þeir, sem hulur elska quæda; jeg hef ekki med þad meir, mín er þrotin ræda.

Source Colophon

Edition: Rímur af Jómsvíkinga Sögu, ásamt Fertrami og Platö. Ortar af Sigurði Breiðfjörð. Viðeyar Klaustri: Helgi Helgason, 1836.

Source: Internet Archive scan. PDF staged locally at Tulku/Tools/rimur/jomsvikingarimur.pdf (200 pages). The volume contains two cycles: Jómsvíkinga rímur (14 rímur, pages 7–115) and Fertrami og Platö rímur (pages 116–199).

Transcription method: Visual transcription from 400 DPI page scans. No OCR software was used — all characters were read manually from the Fraktur typeface. The 1836 Fraktur renders many letter-pairs ambiguous: long s (ſ) vs f, n vs u, d vs cl, e vs c, r vs x, þ vs b. Readings are best-effort; scholars should consult the PDF scans directly for verification.

Blood Rule statement: This translation is independently derived from reading the Old/Middle Icelandic source text. No existing English translation was consulted — none exists. This is the first known English translation of the Fertrami og Plató rímur.

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