by Hallgrímur Jónsson
Nine rímur composed by Hallgrímur Jónsson, a rural doctor (sveitalæknir) at Miklagarður in Skagafjörður, published in Akureyri in 1859 by Grímur Laxdal. The poem retells the saga of Hjálmar hugumstóri — Hjálmar the Bold-Hearted — a hero of the Icelandic fornaldarsögur (legendary sagas). The saga traces from the fall of King Týrus of Garðaríki to the berserker Kolur Kroppinbakur (Hunchback), through the captivity and defiance of the princess Trana, to the rise of Herfinnur of Hálogaland and the liberation of the kingdom.
The manuscript history is traced in the formáli: Björn Hítdælakappa brought the tale from Russia, Bergur Sokkason first set it on vellum, and it passed through several hands — deteriorating with age — until Séra Jón at Sandar made the last copy, from which Hallgrímur Jónsson drew his verse. Nine rímur in varied metres. This is a Good Works Translation by the New Tianmu Anglican Church and Claude, translated directly from nineteenth-century Icelandic. The source text is from an 1859 Akureyri print (Internet Archive). This is the first known English translation.
Formáli (Preface)
1.
See now the saga of Hjálmar,
garbed in the colours of verse;
it has wandered far and wide,
mostly in the western lands.
2.
Björn of Hítardalr, that bold champion,
came from Garðaríki,
where he had been a year and a half
among mighty fighters.
3.
Having come home after that,
the strong wielder of swords
delighted in the saga of Hjálmar
at a feast at Torfi.
4.
It was preserved in the minds of men
until Bergur Sokkason
wrote the saga on vellum.
5.
Nothing more is spoken of it after that,
until it came into the possession
of Ari Þorkellsson.
6.
Teitur, wise in judgments,
who received Dalasýsla,
transcribed the tale for Ari.
7.
Few had laid eyes on it —
rot and mould ate at it —
until at last Séra Jón,
the priest at Sandar, copied it down.
8.
Over Hjálmar's saga,
though much hinders me,
I have drawn a thread of praise —
Hallgrímur Jónsson, the old man.
9.
I send forth from me this scroll of praise,
on the fire-wind to the valleys.
The preface ends here:
Amicus Beni vale.
Ríma I
Mansöngr
1.
O you lovely maiden,
beloved goddess of songs,
the gentle breeze yearns for you —
you alone can gladden me.
2.
Sweet hours are all too few
that tend the life of the soul,
unless the grove gives life
to the wanderer — the healing goddess.
3.
Your power I marvel at
when I ponder life's toil —
how you, far beyond the waters,
can drive away all grief.
4.
Though mischief bestirs itself,
laughter and envy too,
virtue knows you well here —
you will not forget me.
5.
Even if the steed of scorn
spreads its wings of rumour,
out of the den of disgust
to the high seat of lies.
6.
And though both intend
to spoil our faith,
I serve you as before —
may your grace avail me.
7.
For often I may prove
how well you sustain me,
and therefore dare to tell:
you are the only faith I have.
8.
Heaven-born you are alone,
you shape both prayer and thought;
to your friend in trial without delay
you cast light on many a matter.
9.
Malice and anguish flee
before your power;
in you dwells the strength of goodness —
you are the noble chalice of the heights.
10.
Let me from the bright world
know hidden judgments,
through the streaming heights of thought —
heaven, space, and lands without end.
11.
Stir the elves' silence and peace,
frighten the wraith from its darkness,
lift the weary from languid rest,
make land and sea to tremble.
12.
Let all the law's weapons gape,
the earth far from the heavens;
let the lands and mountains howl,
let children seem as trolls.
13.
You who can drive heavy mood
from the mind,
you who dispense delight among the people —
you set songs of gladness in place.
14.
You comforted Ovid,
exiled from freedom and the Roman empire —
you eased his grief
on the shores of the distant sea.
15.
Milton, driven from power
for unjust charges —
nurtured in cold thought
on nights of toil, you were at his side.
16.
In the prison of a tormented mind
his sight had dimmed;
yet through shape-shifting trials the strength endured —
the heaven-bold flight of thought.
17.
Highest goddess, praise you bear
among the nations of the world;
in a world as one might see —
it is fitting that I trust you.
18.
Let us sit at the table of song
to study the saga's fragment,
until we enjoy the needful words
that reach the shores of hearing.
19.
The saga was given me
by a snow-bright man in the west —
fortune-chilled Ólafur,
son of Ásgeir the Homeless.
20.
The apple-tree of the serpent's bridge —
and yet I dared to praise it;
that folly gripped me in a ring:
to turn it into verse.
21.
Though it goes slowly
to shape the poem —
the Lord's streaming mead of horns,
the hard mind's healing spirit.
22.
Now we set the mansöngr aside
and take the saga in hand.
Let the careful goddess of thread
sit beside the warrior's treasure.
Narrative
23.
This must first be told
to the door of hearing:
the world stood in error —
there was great need for the light of true faith,
long before Christ's birth into this world.
24.
Many ages after that,
likewise on earth they honoured
sorcery with devotion —
a multitude of men in thought's enclosure.
25.
Cowardice last of all
stayed any hand from waging fierce warfare —
to cut down wealth and life
across all the heathen northlands.
26.
Armed warriors felled peoples,
won goods and fortresses,
until the bloody clash of horns
began to turn — youthful vigour spent.
27.
Draped in twofold cloaks,
they held to valour and victory;
bold princes like Týr the brave
took kingdoms in old age.
28.
In the eastern lands there was one,
early in ancient times,
who against the wand-riders' storms
heaped the sands of the serpent — great wealth.
29.
The laurel of the serpent's cup,
the great prince Týrus —
a warrior in body, spear-skilled:
the king of Garðaríki.
30.
With hard shafts he drove from himself
the storm of darts;
age bowed the prince,
but he kept his strength to the last.
31.
The prince had an only daughter,
commonly called Trana;
the maiden bore a wealth of learning,
with womanly accomplishments.
32.
No man could behold
a lovelier maiden —
bright, with rosy complexion,
she worked wonder upon warriors.
33.
Misfortune's dim hours
troubled her not;
the sun-ship of the hand was there —
she was found to be like the sun itself.
34.
She was beloved by all in that land,
she dulled all sorrows;
in generosity most excellent,
surpassing what any man's words can say.
35.
Now the verse must turn
from dull craft;
beside the warrior's ship-goddess,
let the stream-deity's bite stand.
36.
At that time there was a sea-viking
who with fierce blade cut down brave men,
driving folk hard
into strife.
37.
A sorcerer grown in trollish power,
tamed to spear-storms;
he was a berserker, brown of skin,
gone abroad in deeds of evil.
38.
In the tempest of swords —
especially through shape-shifting —
he became spirits, monsters,
and all manner of creatures.
39.
Against such a wretch no man
could stand;
no blade could cut his naked skin —
on his back was a hump.
40.
That wretched villain was therefore
called Kolur Hunchback;
with him in his host were his brothers,
each near to the clash of spears.
41.
They were called Björn and Hárekur,
each like a troll in battle;
likewise in defence stood Ingjaldur,
needful among the she-wolf's children.
42.
Long they had sung their mass
in the crabs' choir of blades —
no one was strong enough
to pour them the drink of the grave.
43.
Kolur, cunning in malice,
came one time into Garðaríki;
he drove many a mast-horse —
with him rushed the grey host.
44.
Týrus was commanded to yield —
the message was full of tricks —
or else give up his gold
and his bright lady with it.
45.
The great champion flatly
refused those sweet terms;
the hero's life-spirit bristled free,
the thick brows drew together.
46.
The hero's old heart bore
courage enough in plenty;
to the wretch he measured out this answer:
"Tell the warlock's comrades —
47.
"Then shall death drag
my life out by force,
before I hand the young shore of gold
to craven dogs.
48.
"And never shall he get
a whit of my kingdom,
though many a man must pay,
as long as I can wield a sword."
49.
The prince could not wait,
nor did he wish to;
few of his people were at hand —
the scoundrel's wrath was closing in.
50.
Under the sorcerer's spell, outnumbered,
the king drew out to fight;
the difference in forces
was reckoned tenfold.
51.
The grim valkyries woke
the fierce dance of spears;
cloaks of darkness fell away,
the battle-lines rushed together.
52.
The sea-chargers ground their teeth,
spears burst helmets;
as was the custom of old,
mad berserkers howled.
53.
The slaughter grew great
with their assault;
the clash of edges rose wondrously,
the king's host dwindled fast.
54.
Though men shrank from the fight,
more must be named;
the great Týrus fiercely drew
the sharp key of wounds.
55.
The brave king bore himself
boldly forward against the sea-vikings;
the burning sun of the claws
split the gloves of war.
56.
The thunder of blows struck hard
at the brave beam;
many he hewed asunder there —
few sang news home from that edge.
57.
Wondrous quick on the field of death,
he felled countless wretches;
so fiercely he swung his fist
that the brothers feared the king's encounter.
58.
Until at last the king judged a truce —
half the viking host
had ridden the road to Hel.
59.
Exhausted by the sword,
his host fallen,
he stood alone, unwounded —
that old and generous prince.
60.
O Fortune, O Hel,
O Norns of fate —
give the good prince's blade
a worthy bite of wounds!
61.
The hard host marvelled
at the king's great valour;
the shield-king's foes in the shadowed storm
arrayed their forces against him — the brothers.
62.
No wound came upon the prince
from any spear's mark;
the bloody thought churned dark —
then the champion struck with terrible force.
63.
He flung many a stout log
of death on the bloody moor;
burst some men's skulls,
dashed others in the warrior's garb.
64.
Last of all the king was set upon —
from the front none dared;
when from behind the warriors looked,
the bright sword whirled there still.
65.
So wrathful was that prince,
the Baldr of gold,
that the smoke of battle
bore right to the paths of the sun.
66.
Now must it be told:
Kolur declared the king could not be overcome;
he ordered a shield-wall built —
that would put an end to the prince's power.
67.
The thralls could not manage it,
for the prince was in a fury;
the blue blade bore up to the sky,
the wound-stream welled anew.
68.
These deeds from the king's hand
were the hardest any could dread;
the bold hero with the spear's wand
defended his life, his lady, and his lands.
69.
No wound did the blade leave upon him,
blood from the edge pounded;
yet at last the king fell on the field —
the clear-hearted prince was spent.
70.
Loudly they sang a victory-song
after the prince's death;
one third was left standing
of the fierce viking host.
71.
When at last the fierce storm of battle
had ended,
with red-glowing embers of the sword
the brothers marched to the hall.
72.
Into the king's high seat settled
Kolur, the shield-sleeper;
he called himself king therefore,
and the unfree people wept for their lord.
73.
The wretch sought to take his pleasure —
he sent for the prince's daughter;
servants in the gleam of torchlight
led the maiden to the tyrant.
74.
The troll boldly faced her:
"You are in my power;
the whole kingdom and the serpent's gleam —
and you shall also marry me."
75.
"The kingdom is mine —
you are a thief of goods and lands!"
Thus distraught spoke the ring-goddess:
"You shall never have me."
76.
The berserker says, grim:
"Here you shall remain;
refuse me your own word,
and I shall be the death you know."
77.
The villain drew the serpent-claw
over the bride's head;
but the noble lady walked toward the blue spears
and smiled.
78.
Such a spirit suited
the silken flower:
"This one thing I choose for you —
that is the certain remedy."
79.
He restrained himself from striking —
he found fierce desire burning;
such passion worked its own restraint.
80.
So she was placed in a prison,
the golden maiden;
wounded by the sorrow-belt,
betrayed, agitated, and pensive.
81.
O worthy Minerva,
remember the lady in distress;
though sorrow weep the senses,
late does Fortune bring her joy.
82.
Since I cannot free the lady now,
though gladly I would,
I set aside my scroll of verse
for a little while and take my rest.
Ríma II
Mansöngr
1.
Do not let me sleep too long,
goddess of songs;
turn your mind and senses to sate
on poems that teach and gladden.
2.
Asleep, I enjoyed sweet fortune
at the woman's command;
she raised a pale-blue canopy,
shining from a single tablet.
3.
A map I saw laid out there
with skill and beauty;
the inscription mostly in verse,
the contents mostly in the glow of the Thames.
4.
The whole world appeared to me
on that fair tablet,
painted when the age was young,
before the shield-breakers of memory.
5.
I began to compare the homes,
seas and green fields,
with the greatest expectations
against those maps.
6.
All the maps were different
from any day I knew —
something turned a different way,
something was wanting or abundantly so.
7.
What does it matter to me,
flustered in my thoughts?
The seas, the waters, the grounds that keep —
nothing can stand at home forever.
8.
Is it all a lie then,
what the elders wrote
about the world's fame and ancient ways —
the lands, the seas, and sorcerous craft?
9.
Or will it all prove
to be the truth,
now that the ages unfold,
according as each person sees?
10.
Friends of my own age's learning,
I say,
whatever surpasses their knowledge —
that must be mere and naked lie.
11.
They believe that the soul's vision
and truth are seized
only by men who have passed
through the gates of schools.
12.
Who will drive the error
from my mind?
Shall I for all my life
call nothing truth?
13.
Shall I waste my sweeter hours
with such doubt,
and let all my moments sleep within me —
an incurable torpor of the soul?
14.
Must I tear at elves
and trolls and ill spirits,
and fiendish kind from every quarter,
out of the gates of truth?
15.
No, no — I shall decide on
something else:
the goddesses of the noble soul
bid me long to learn.
16.
Long they led me down
the bright road of truth,
forward until I wished to know —
though sometimes spoon and bite were wanting.
17.
Useful things I gained from them
without heavy cost:
from the deep well of the mind's fountain,
worth more than food and drink.
18.
As I thought thus and prayed,
a sound rushed to my ears —
a warm gust with gentle answers,
clear as spoken words from lips.
19.
That voice softened my mood
in the realm of memory,
for it offered with great kindness
that I might ask whatever I wished.
20.
Understanding's thirst pressed
against my dry breast;
it seemed to me the answers would not fail —
a relief for the silence I had lost.
21.
First I asked of ancient times,
of the seats of fame —
the abundance of courage and spirit's beauty
that the learned now no longer tread.
22.
The answer declared that truly,
among men of old,
the deeds of courage, fierce and harsh,
had boasted of themselves upon our earth.
23.
And now the fame and courage
of former men is not found,
save what men with cunning and skill
have recovered from lost strength.
24.
The great wall of ancient courage —
strong-built,
the fortress of the brand-lord's towers —
between Tartary and the lands of China.
25.
Built from terrible cliffs,
tall and exceedingly broad,
by fair measure reckoned at
three hundred miles in length.
26.
It is the origin of the Chinese calendar,
when the wall stood guard over the borders —
the greatest wonder-work in the world.
27.
Many hundred years before Adam lived,
their reckoning then demands
that this wall was already built.
28.
The fame and courage of former times,
exceeding great —
you can bring before your eyes
the berserkers crossing the lava-field.
29.
From this is seen — and more besides —
the ancient courage of men;
heart and strength in the tempest of swords —
fear seldom sat in their breast.
30.
Then I shook from slumber quickly
and the moon's pale embers —
yet not glad in spirit.
Narrative
31.
Every day Kolur still pressed
his suit upon the maiden,
demanding the marriage-bond
from his captive's easy stand.
32.
Refusal and harsh words
he ever got from the woman;
sooner would she lose her life, she said,
than yield to the honourless sorcerer-wretch.
33.
Then Kolur saw that his courtship
could not avail;
he turned therefore to other ways
to snare the lady cunningly.
34.
One morning — when the prince's daughter
was sunk in sleep —
Kolur hurried thither
and pressed close beside her.
35.
The lady sprang to her feet,
star-bright;
there seemed to her a fair and glad man
standing beside her.
36.
To him the bright torch-maiden spoke:
"Tell us who you are,
and where you come from,
and why you have come hither."
37.
The treacherous, shape-shifted wretch
answered her:
"I shall free you from the monster's power —
I will bring you out of his hold."
38.
"I was your father's friend,
and therefore will I keep
the same faith to the gentle maiden —
that shall be my unshaken duty."
39.
He offered a horn to the ring-maiden
that she might refresh herself;
she received the drink with thanks —
and it changed her mind.
40.
After that she became as if wild
in the worst of swoons;
she knew neither ground nor horizon,
window, woman, nor threshold.
41.
To the shape-shifted wretch
she bound her love;
cold had her resistance been cast out —
fire was kindled in the maiden's breast.
42.
At last he brought the flower of the land
to a lofty sky-hall;
there a royal bed was prepared
where both sank down, weary.
43.
The pleasure-meeting drove
all toil from their minds;
their will followed the ancient path —
that road none laments.
44.
Three nights they spent in that embrace;
on the fourth morning
the maiden lay in her room.
45.
The spell-sleep had left
the prince's daughter;
the hunchback sat upon the throne,
the tyrant's body glutted with pride.
46.
He told his brothers
that the maiden was conquered —
dear Trana, the prince's daughter —
and ordered her brought to him.
47.
Henceforth she should be freed
from contempt,
proclaimed with honour
as the sole queen of Garðaríki.
48.
With that cry she was brought to the hall;
now she knew all the treachery and deceit,
the error cleared —
she saw the villainy plain.
49.
In the high seat she was placed
beside the tyrant;
the wedding-feast was drunk that day,
and the host made merry on the bright mead.
50.
Few answers could the ring-maiden give
with her cold smile;
they held her in forced contentment —
bold warriors of the moon's cold stream.
51.
She wished that if she must wed
the craven villain,
she might first be allowed to find
her father's body and tend it.
52.
Old Kolur gave his consent —
she might serve the body
as she pleased,
but she must hurry back.
53.
The sweetest lily then requested
to choose four handmaidens;
they were not slow to attend.
54.
They ran and found the king
wrapped in death;
the daughter's grief engulfed her,
yet still she tore the helm from the dead man.
55.
She set it upon her own head
and then drew off his blood-soaked mail —
she put on the armour
with single purpose.
56.
The handmaidens wished to take the sword
from the fallen king;
they laboured hard at it,
but could not stir it with their fingers.
57.
Yet for Trana the sword lay
light in the prince's hand;
the lady with her strong hand
swung the bright wound-wand.
58.
The women fled in terror
when they saw the battle-raiment —
they saw the ring-maiden wrapped in arms
and burning with fury.
59.
It seemed to them that King Týrus himself
stood in the war-god's garb
on the reddened field,
readying food for the wolves.
60.
That thought strongly
hastened their flight —
that the king had followed them, grim and armed,
come back from the dead.
61.
Each one scattered
in a different direction;
wherever they found man or woman,
they told the wondrous tidings.
62.
Across the land flew the report
that the golden lady
stood armed, awaiting men —
the king's avenger come for vengeance.
63.
Hundreds gathered in groups
from the districts;
they ran forth in armour,
eager to help the silken goddess.
64.
Meanwhile the prince's daughter
must be remembered —
grief she felt grow sharp in her heart;
her hands gripped the sword-hilt tight.
65.
It was the best sword
known in the world;
men said the same of the helm —
no weapon could blunt them.
66.
The threefold blue ring-mail
surpassed all armour
that the king had owned
until he lay fallen.
67.
Clothed in this bride's battle-garb,
she turned to the hall —
the grim maiden in the land of memory
swung the naked brand.
68.
At that the viking-host shrank
from the war-goddess;
she burst in among them, terrible —
more dreadful than any had feared.
69.
The foes strained to discover
whether this was the ring-maiden
or the ghost of Týrus walking —
she felled eight warriors at once.
70.
Kolur ordered his kinsmen
to strip the maiden of her weapons;
she waded forward with terrible aspect,
sword gripped and fury upon her.
71.
The blade fell on the skull of Ingjaldur —
whoever stood near —
he dropped dead upon the field;
that warrior's life was ended.
72.
Kolur knew no fear
in any crisis,
yet now even he was shaken
by the dread that stood from the battle-garb.
73.
Then too the army of the land
came home to the hall;
the prince's daughter stood
with a host of shield-wielders at her side.
74.
Then Kolur saw he could not
be blessed there;
he summoned his wretched crew
and rode out onto the heath.
75.
On strange beasts they rode
along the promontory;
fierce warfare they waged long,
killing all they found.
76.
Until autumn they spared
no wound-stream;
across the great sea of the Helsings
they pressed the fierce war-frenzy.
77.
The next spring, Kolur wished
to visit Garðar again —
in the sharp storm of swords
to win the kingdom back.
78.
But of the slayer's fate
and the golden band,
grey Hunchback must now tell
that more had come to pass.
79.
At that time, the weapon-tamer
of the prince was found:
Hrómundur, with his noble bearing,
ruled Hálogaland — famed he was.
80.
Hjarandi's son Herrauður
was the king's father,
and his queen, the virtuous lady,
was the daughter of Högni the fierce.
81.
Hrómundur's worthy queen
bore him one son:
Herfinnur was his name —
hard-handed at the weapon-meeting.
82.
When Herfinnur reached
eighteen years of age,
his mother was claimed
by Hel's queen from this world's joy.
83.
The king grieved for the dear one
who had been his delight;
he could not bear the kingdom's rule —
he would go out to war.
84.
The bravest host he gathered
on the sail-steeds;
Herfinnur sailed with him,
held to the weather of the thunder-veil.
85.
Across the whale-road they ranged wide,
wolves of the wave;
they felled brave sea-kings,
Hrómundur in the old way.
86.
The prince sailed the Baltic
in a swift summer —
just as Kolur gathered warriors
from Sweden and Jötunheimar.
87.
A great host from many lands
the giant-edged one called together —
he ordered the troops of the serpent-field
in their ranks.
88.
To Hólmgarðr the fire-lord
intended to sail;
fair waves played beneath the keel,
sails spread on the radiant mast.
89.
In a certain fjord the horses of the wave
rested their hulls;
eighteen warships bore down upon them,
ruddy with the fire of the Thames.
90.
Not far from the great fleet
they lowered their bright sails;
Kolur meant to claim the victory
by force in that abundance of arms.
91.
He demanded then of the newcomers
of the thunder-rings:
who ruled those horses of the reef?
He should yield himself a prisoner.
92.
A young man, tall, stood
on the mast-platform;
to Hunchback he answered thus —
that it would hardly go so.
93.
The drink of the gods dwindles now
on the dale of taste;
while sleep draws together again,
one may yet make peace with the dawn's delight.
Ríma III
Mansöngr
1.
I slept before and slept again;
yet the doors of sense —
let men know — opened wide:
there shone a maiden's form, all radiant.
2.
This steed of the moon's stream
was one of the goddesses of learning,
bearing no small worth —
known to me, and to my good.
3.
Therefore I dared begin
to question the chosen lady:
whether in curses and prophecy
I may trust the tales.
4.
She gave answer thus:
"Such doubt you must not hold.
Some words have stirred the spirit —
added power in ages past.
5.
"Of the gift of speech
they had their place;
some call it enchantment —
in former times more than now
that gift attended men.
6.
"Among Christians as among heathens
that power has been found;
the Bible itself bears witness,
if warriors would otherwise dispute me.
7.
"Old Noah was angered
yet spared no wicked man;
well he knew the lowly nature —
he laid his curse fiercely on his son's kin.
8.
"Whether the verse works ill or good,
both sorrow and song,
let them find their place in all words —
you may call that enchantment.
9.
"The dream-wisdom of the old days
and the prophecy of hidden ways
are adorned in elder writings;
of that we know a little."
10.
Despite the cleansing of men's minds,
the Scripture confirms this;
broad over the bed of thought it lies —
no further proof is needed.
11.
Then I turned the talk to this:
some learned men deny
that sorcery's trick and play
has existed through the age of the world.
12.
Not all enchantment or conjuring
was at the sorcerers' command;
they made use of it mainly
in the Devil's agitations, through invocations.
13.
The quickest answer came to me:
"Remember the ways of ancient times —
then something was believed in;
nothing now so deserves the name.
14.
"Everywhere through the eastern world
those arts were abundantly practised
in the world's earliest age,
when sorcery still earned its name.
15.
"A king from Asia,
not slow to the field of battle,
made the death-bonds bite the corpse —
he conquered the northlands.
16.
"That prince bore manifold fame
in most of the sorcerous arts,
skilled at wielding spell and charm;
he taught the folk across the north.
17.
"Numa, Rome's ruler,
honoured with the fame of valour —
thirsting for the learning of life,
he was the first among peoples
to know the seiðr-craft.
18.
"The Egyptian age dared, no doubt,
to practise the ancient art of sorcery;
the people read of it constantly —
it was Moses who tested it.
19.
"The witch of Endor
is not likely to be forgotten;
likewise one may reckon in that company
the mighty Simon, the sorcerer.
20.
"More about the sorcerer's verse
the chapters of Scripture tell;
but those tricks against the true faith
are for the most part now set aside.
21.
"And it is no adornment
that ill custom was practised:
the people turned wild with sorcery's filth,
grim and savage from heathendom."
22.
Exaggerations we know in plenty
from the writings of antiquity;
yet on the other hand, just as surely,
the unbelievable is often true.
Narrative
23.
Of that, no more need be said —
the people wish to hear now
what the young man, patient in strength,
quick of word, answered Kolur.
24.
"Hrómundur of heroic frame,
king of Hálogaland,
lord of the fire-stream —
he commands these ships of the launching-rollers.
25.
"Prince, in the clash of gore,
he shall be your dearest catch;
never in any encounter
has any shield-lord offered you the like.
26.
"I, his heir, harbour the suspicion
that man shall cut you short of life,
if you put the storm of shields to the test."
27.
"Tell me, you raven, you black swine of Hel —
what is your name and power?
Kolur you are called? I, the wretch,
know nowhere my equal."
28.
"The signs are not few,
my deeds of prowess to proclaim:
I have seized the realm of Garðar —
I recently felled King Týrus."
29.
When Hrómundur heard this,
the fire-lord judged that man
who bore overbearing strength —
and was the foster-brother of Herrauður.
30.
So to the giant the king declares:
"The time of your ruin has begun;
wherever you wield the thunder's thrust,
those words shall stand firm."
31.
"May your ring-arm lose its might,
your evil eye and sorcerer's art —
all shall be stripped from you alike.
Trust me, wretched old one."
32.
More strong words of power
the prince then sang with force;
the giant grew uneasy at that —
a hot flush broke over him.
33.
Then peace was ripped away;
both sides closed their ranks;
into the fierce storm of swords
Hel began to creep through the planks.
34.
Grey shields splintered fast,
skulls loosened from bodies;
everywhere the red wound-river
boiled on the gunwales of the ships.
35.
The whale-road's steeds were larger
on Kolur's side, and his warriors half again as many;
not slow to the strife —
Kolur had three men for every one.
36.
Then there was shouting and fierce urging,
neither side sparing the other;
the sun of Sigmundr's gold flickered
on the paths of the slain.
37.
The toil of Hel brought no peace;
the host on both sides fell in waves;
the raw surf hid the corpses,
countless ships lay wrecked.
38.
The king hardened the storm of swords,
sang the battle-psalms so well
that the tyrant's host under harsh blows
tumbled down like drifting snow.
39.
The king's son followed his father's guard,
went like a lion among a flock of sheep,
driving the wretch's life-breath from them —
none could withstand father and son.
40.
The host of the giant's kin dwindled;
Kolur perceived the slaughter —
that against the steel-grey king's host,
the brothers too were hard-pressed.
41.
So long the spear-thirst raged
that a multitude of villains lay fallen;
tyrants had stained the shield-trolls,
all the ships were battered.
42.
Yet still the king held to the sword's dance,
and his son held bravely too —
though the weary host was losing life —
the main force on their ship endured.
43.
From every quarter the prince's fleet
was assailed in great numbers;
ill welcome they met —
they cut the evening-watches short.
44.
In that moment bold Kolur,
with few to guard the king's ship,
boarded with his own men;
on the other side came his brothers.
45.
Sorcery-shafts shattered the peace,
though cut by enchanted force;
the mighty ones kept their fierce patience —
the prince met the brothers of Kolur.
46.
Against both he swung his blade,
the king skilled at the play of swords;
the shape-shifter raged with burning ember,
and the brothers donned their giant-fury.
47.
The prince was the more wounded,
monsters raging around him;
in them he broke no small bones,
yet the blade could not bite their flesh.
48.
Their arms broken,
the craven wretches could no longer hold —
under Hrómundur's blows
they leapt fastest into the sea.
49.
They found their sleep in the salt clay;
the saga names them no more.
It did not go better than that —
though it also tells of Hunchback.
50.
While the king was busy
having lamed those wretches in the spear-strife,
brave at the root of swords,
Herfinnur went against Kolur.
51.
From the giant's blows the young man
expected a quick death;
yet so he managed his attacks
that he parried every stroke.
52.
The giant marvelled at that nimbleness —
yet fiercely he denied him victory;
the fire of the victory-god, the prince's son,
could not wound the enchanted wretch.
53.
Weary of the tussle, the troll-kin
wished to test his mighty grip;
he cast the millstone-blade aside —
the king's son leapt upon him fast.
54.
Up the prince's son was lifted,
terribly hard-handled;
the villain meant to bow his spirit —
from the air he hurled him on his head.
55.
The prince's son fell senseless;
the wretch wished him a swift death
and seized the brain-cleaver
to cut the skull from him.
56.
At that same moment,
the beaten brothers —
fleeing under blows —
leapt from the sea-steeds into the deep.
57.
The king sees his son fallen;
grief bites his fierce temper;
he rushes upon Kolur from behind
with the wound-stream's angry serpent.
58.
The brave helmsman struck
with both hands and drew back little —
across the giant's spine —
yet it bit no more than glass.
59.
Twice the tyrfing-blade shattered;
the troll-shifted berserker
turned to face the prince with raging mind,
measuring the ember of Yggr's cheek.
60.
Hrómundur ducked under the blow —
the viking staggered;
near the strength-cords, there
he was clamped in iron grips.
61.
That wrestling did not last long:
the warrior flung the troll-beast
like a matted cur
flat on the long ridge of its back.
62.
Kolur tried to rise;
the prince squeezed the villain tight,
battered about the head.
Then Herfinnur stirred.
63.
To the fallen one the warrior spoke:
"Truly I would choose this —
if you can reach your wits in this fair grip,
you might fetch me a new rope."
64.
This the prince's son achieved,
though still dazed;
the king said, hard in his dealings:
"Let us hang the thrall, my heir."
65.
A noose-rope was driven around Kolur's neck,
and pulled tight;
each held his end,
and twisted hard, back to back.
66.
Kolur began to choke;
the prince's son felt the strain no little —
but hard-gripped against the sword-grief,
Hrómundur sat like a cliff.
67.
The troll's thrashings slowly ceased;
the prince's ship was so damaged
that it could not sail after that —
they made ready to go home.
68.
The warriors burned Kolur on his ship;
the king then offered the host quarter;
all the remaining men surrendered —
in heaps he gained the serpent's shore of gold.
69.
Plunder, wondrous people and ships —
warriors had never seen the like —
to those victorious sea-lords
came victory and fortune home.
70.
He raises the mast and frees the fleet;
sated on gold when the strife was done,
he steered home to his kingdom.
71.
Father and son sat first in peace;
the saga's course shifts —
to the tale of Garðaríki
we must now readily turn.
72.
Trana took up the kingship;
honour and dignity grew with her power;
she ruled the people and the land —
the fair goddess of the precious web.
73.
Something strange was noticed:
the woman grew a little broader;
beneath the belt it thickened —
that went on as one might see.
74.
Much was whispered about the belly's swelling;
the maiden was sick some while,
and at last she bore an ugly child —
pitch-black, terrifying to the people.
75.
The baby was attributed to old Kolur,
a stolen-looking brat;
the people urged her to cast it to Hel —
but that did not please her.
76.
He was named Kolur, that stunted child,
who found little in the way of virtues;
the apple of the empty sun —
no improvement on his father.
77.
When that boy was three years old —
though small, the giant's offspring —
his mother Trana,
freed from grief and sorcery, took a husband.
78.
Herfinnur, son of Hrómundur,
was betrothed to the ring-ground maiden;
in the fullness of the moon's cup
he received the kingdom of Garðaríki.
79.
Love healed the hope of fortune;
Trana bore Herfinnur a son —
they named him Framarr;
the thoughtful pair rejoiced.
80.
Exceedingly handsome in appearance,
bearing wisdom beyond his peers,
a bold warrior in the sword-strife —
his equal was not found then.
81.
Beloved, gentle among men,
that champion grew name-famous;
but of miserly mind and villainous ways
was Kolur, his half-brother.
82.
They grew up in different arts,
those most unlike kinsmen;
Framarr was in all things more renowned
than the fierce sorcery of Kolur's son.
83.
When the two held to their war-path,
those fires of the spear-lord,
they shared no common ways —
the storm of swords between them.
84.
The brothers divided their warfare;
wickedness filled the villain;
Kolur soon ranged the whale-road,
wandering south in search of evil.
85.
He fed the iron-dance with giant-kind
and trollish brood;
he chose the storm-chorus for himself —
bearing malice, he roamed.
86.
He never came back to Garðar's ground,
the villain, treacherous in spirit;
he tended better to the sword's desire,
lying abroad summer and winter.
87.
He managed to stir strife with many;
always he plotted against Framarr's life,
but whenever they met,
the prince's son prevailed over him.
88.
Yet no true amendment followed —
still he would not slay the villain;
high and far flew across land and sea
the fame of the prince's son's courage.
89.
The prince won goods and lands,
gifted with the fair shore of the serpent-stream;
he struck restlessly against wolves of war —
yet sat at home in the winters.
90.
One time, as so often,
he swung his fierce-toothed waves;
he went to war with his company of men,
first in the warmth of springtime.
91.
He may harden spears and shields,
he may conquer men and trolls —
for me, the weariness of sleep
hangs heavy; it lulls me now.
Ríma IV
Mansöngr
1.
The night-hour bids the soul
attend to the treasures of life;
the high thought of wisdom
is best found in stillness.
2.
Chatter, fuss, and the bustle of work —
their worth is nearly spent;
much then may be seen
that wakes memory and sense.
3.
So now a sun-bright lady
sought me in my bed —
fair vision, my Muse,
she lifted the curtain of darkness.
4.
I asked the lady whether
the sea, the mountains, and the lands —
whether all had been, from the beginning,
the same as now.
5.
The lady answered with a gentle hint:
"No mind can fathom
the hard upheavals on our earth
that the multitude of years conceals.
6.
"The transformation — not a small thing —
wrought by fire, sea, and floods
would scarcely be believed
by the minds of our own time.
7.
"Mountain-passes and hard lava-fields,
ridges and great ravines,
glaciers, chasms, and countless rivers —
they did not exist of old.
8.
"Great fires and the sea as well,
in the blind depths of the earth,
met and found before them
a fury of air and wind.
9.
"The bitter salt bound all together;
when it combined with the rest,
it surged and boiled and threatened
with the power of wrath.
10.
"The earth shuddered under terrible havoc
from the first great arch;
mountains rose — though soon they all fell —
mourning the beauty lost.
11.
"Rock and ground burst asunder
in terrible convulsion;
ash-fall drifted down
widely across the dales.
12.
"Strong fires carved themselves passages,
shaping gorges and valleys;
they bellowed and boiled and ran red,
and raised the mountain-peaks.
13.
"Then on top of that came
the terrors of the great floods,
where the hidden sea covered all —
the goddess of the ring grew dark.
14.
"Darkness and flood weighed down their lot
for terribly long ages,
until the sludge, like ugly mire,
at last was lifted up.
15.
"The storm that fell upon the land
in its birth-pangs —
monstrous, with brute force —
that is called the Orkan.
16.
"The hard winds so shook the earth
that seas began to form;
the sludge was dug, the clay was scraped,
the great mountains rose.
17.
"No man of the Orkan
can shape a word or thought;
such a one was given — and none other —
never before nor since.
18.
"The Almighty then set the works in place:
waters and lands as they should be,
the sphere's course laid on its path,
following the laws of gravity.
19.
"All ran together and found its hold —
the order of the primal elements;
in tiny strength through a thousand years
was that the first day."
20.
From unknown elements, fierce,
out of that former world,
the metals in abundance that the younger age
keeps hidden in its store.
21.
Fire transformed it all
through the multitude of ages —
gold-sand and coal alike
are seen widely in the mountains.
22.
Humankind was nothing then,
when the rune of wealth had passed;
about that time or before,
just as it is now.
23.
Many a hard upheaval
the younger earth endured after that;
of which few shall now be told —
the song must ply its craft.
Narrative
24.
Eastward across the sea, where once he waited,
Framarr set his course;
to war he went, upon the whale-road,
girt with the shield of the wave-goddess.
25.
Fortune and fame he won enough —
the sword sang on the shield-rims;
on dragon-islands, people and ships
he took from many lands.
26.
Everywhere the saying was
that he could not be conquered;
many a champion counted it luck
to serve that prince.
27.
All the summer, across the Baltic,
he won wealth with the brand;
yet in autumn, from the whale-road's heath,
he steered to Grautaland.
28.
They brought the ships to shore;
the horses of the deep
went up onto the land, girt with swords —
the warriors of the grey-back's bed.
29.
The bold folk raised their tents,
near the king's stronghold;
fires gleamed and hearth-flames leapt —
the prince stared forth.
30.
Valdi was the name of the king
who long had let the leaf of war exchange its edges;
his fame was great, his courage ample,
above the seas and lands.
31.
Twelve men the king swiftly bade
go find the strangers' host
and learn who held those steeds of ice
fast at their anchor-ropes.
32.
"And if he wishes to wage war,
you shall make known to him
that we with the brand defend our land —
then venture to meet him.
33.
"But if he prefers peace
and honourable terms,
invite him home with his retinue and gold —
the bright messenger bids so."
34.
The envoys received peaceful terms
with honourable answers;
therefore they turned and made their way —
and led the prince within.
35.
When the king learns who has come
with that company,
he marvels and welcomes
the famous prince's son.
36.
In the king's hall, among chosen champions,
Framarr receives the greeting;
the feast was held and hot wine —
he delights the honoured men.
37.
Framarr said: "I wish
to stay here for the winter."
"That shall be, prince,
if it pleases you the better."
38.
The prince's wife was kindly,
skilled at warding off the anguish of the heart;
they had, in love's delight,
one daughter only.
39.
Surpassingly beautiful
was Ingibjörg by name —
the gold-haven,
gifted in arts, clad in fortune,
sweet among the learned.
40.
In the king's hall the lovely maiden
often lingered;
and at the king's right hand
the prince was placed by Valdi.
41.
One day, as the hall's company
sat in delight,
the prince's son, hoping for good fortune,
began thus to speak to the king:
42.
"Your daughter, that fair lady,
kindles mighty love in me;
I have therefore wished to hear first
what you would answer."
43.
"If I should ask for the bright
ring-goddess of the land,
and win that maiden with an honourable claim —
most things would tend toward grace."
44.
The king declares: "It is plain,
noble descendant of princes;
to no one would I rather give
my ring-daughter than to you.
45.
"Yet it is worse that things
do not go by my will;
I may tell you plainly —
the ring-maiden is already betrothed.
46.
"Sturlaugr, the valiant one,
who proves his courage true,
went to the holmgang for the ring-maid
and slew a frenzied challenger.
47.
"He offered single combat
if he could not win the lady;
no one dared, not one man
of our kingdom's host.
48.
"He was called Kolur, that champion
who crept to Hel's delight;
it was plain, and nowhere hidden,
that my daughter was promised to him."
49.
"A bridal feast and wedding-banquet
the men will soon see;
in winter's time, when strife is stilled,
Sturlaugr shall visit the maiden."
50.
Silence fell at that story
upon the famous prince's son;
it struck him nearly as if
he himself had been dealt a blow.
51.
He began to speak among the warriors:
"Vengeance I must seek,
or else in no way
shall I be called honourable.
52.
"Every man must find his own honour;
the days make their demands —
my duty to the jewel-maiden,
though it be most grievous."
53.
"I challenge Sturlaugr
to the storm of brands,
to single combat on the duelling-ground" —
the prince said little more.
54.
After that, from the prince's hall,
Framarr sent men
to Sturlaugr, in the clash of steel,
to deliver the challenge.
55.
Swift answer gave the envoy:
the harbour's warrior comes.
"Framarr, in the clash of spears,
I am eager to meet."
56.
"I shall come gladly, unhindered,
on the appointed day,
to the holm, where fallen
coward Kolur once lay."
57.
She was called Vefreyja, the ring-island maiden,
wise in the ways of the mind;
well-learned and good to her own —
she was Sturlaugr's mother.
58.
After the talk among the warriors,
the bold prince swiftly
told the errand plain
to his own mother.
59.
The gold-maiden said: "Sit at home
and seek no sword-mass;
do not fight that lord's son."
Sturlaugr ignores this.
60.
She then speaks, if he intends
to fell the prince's kinsman:
"Something must sustain you
beyond pure courage alone.
61.
"The prince's son is weapon-skilled,
used to the shock of swords,
wondrous quick across land and sea —
more famous than all other champions.
62.
"Never will you,
even as you are now,
be found proved in strength —
though you have courage
and a warrior's heart together."
63.
"The good shirt — gleaming bright —
that I keep, you shall wear;
in the encounter with the prince's son
no iron can bite through it.
64.
"That shirt is my own work;
remember that I gave it to you.
Against cruel Kolur, with patient strength,
before you dealt him death."
65.
The time came for the storm of swords;
the heroes were to meet.
To Sturlaugr, with faithful words,
spoke the golden lady.
66.
"Fair weapons — helm and shield —
take, and strong mail;
the best sword and all you need
for the work of war."
67.
The vengeance-maiden took her leave
of the sword-god with her hands;
she embraced him then and gave him strength —
a blow to the left knee.
68.
The bold hero sprang upon his horse
and rode to the duelling-ground;
fair he went, and Framarr he found
standing beneath his bright weapons.
69.
A curt greeting, coldly given;
each there directs the other
toward Hel — and the shield-boards
were battered with blows.
70.
Valdi the king, the sun of battle,
and the chosen townsfolk
stood on the wall to see the steel-shower —
the greatest spectacle one could find.
71.
Greatly it struck the prince's son's friends:
that Sturlaugr, standing there,
was a giant compared to the other.
72.
They fought hard; the brand gnashed
like blindness in the tent-flaps;
helms burst, blows sang
on the grinder of the battle-storm.
73.
The prince declares: men see
swords beautify the mail;
no generation shall see
a more manly single combat.
74.
Those two heroes on the holm
struck, attacked, and guarded
like lions, before the eyes of men,
and fought until evening.
75.
The dusk would have the brave
spear-breakers cease;
neither one, in that hard encounter,
had received a wound.
76.
In the morning, when sleep fled,
the mailed champions held
the holm again — and heavy blows
each man dealt the other.
77.
That day too, in the spear-chase,
they showed their prowess;
as before, they were unwounded
when evening made them stop.
78.
The people marvelled at their endurance,
though they must be mortal;
it was unclear who of the two
would in the end prevail.
79.
The shadow-time departed,
and the morning dawned again;
fierce, they met on the holm
for the third time.
80.
Framarr declares, in the clash of spears:
"It seems to me things would sound better
if we took a truce and swiftly
bound a brotherhood with honour."
81.
Sturlaugr declares: "It is easily heard
that now you are trying to charm me,
while, strong in the war-work,
we stand plainly unwounded."
82.
After that, so agreed,
they drove the shield-trolls with fury,
with the boldest spirit
and mighty war-cunning.
83.
So hard was the storm of wounds
dealt by those heroes
that none watching believed
they would survive.
84.
No wound, despite the battle's fury,
did those heroes bear;
but Sturlaugr's shield-guards,
hacked away, were cut asunder.
85.
All his armour fell away on the field
from the strokes of the worthy warrior —
yet he was not harmed,
for the bright shirt
no blade could bite.
86.
Framarr's blow, in the spear-dew,
struck with mighty force;
the bright sharp edge cut through
the shield clean to the bottom.
87.
The prince's son, hoping for vengeance,
swung the heavy sword
with all his might — and below the knee
he cut Sturlaugr down.
88.
Here from the wound and battle's tears
the hero was broken;
they rested then from the sword-strife —
the most courageous of men.
89.
The southern ship, the same terms,
each now chooses to accept;
therefore trust the silence-harbour —
let this pause hold for a time.
Ríma V
Mansöngr
1.
Again I must steer the ship of verse
out upon the sea of song,
though the cold night-watch
shakes my weary bones.
2.
Let it go — the bright path
of the Muse has come,
eager to teach, and she stands
at my side once more.
3.
There the well-spoken one
takes the poet's bench,
nothing is small when many works
reshape our world.
4.
Envy of cold and terrible fire
added harm upon harm,
and after that the world
ran together in ruin.
5.
In Noah's day the flood
of dire necessity
caused still greater upheaval,
and many more changes yet.
6.
More than men can fathom
or wish to believe —
yet one may know it is true,
though it is scarcely written in books.
7.
Waters, seas, straits, and mighty rivers —
from earthquakes and eruptions
they first became great floods.
8.
The Dead Sea is what most tales recall —
it has stirred the wonder of ages —
at the southern border
of the land of Judea.
9.
All around it, almost in a ring,
stand wonder-cliffs towering high,
like walls of stone set by hand.
10.
Down into the deepest abyss there sank
the hidden hollows of hell's dark pit —
an entire kingdom and three cities.
11.
Flowering districts had flourished in former days
where now the Dead Sea lies —
no riches does it bear.
12.
The river Jordan flows into this great sea,
yet no stream flows out from it —
none that men know of anywhere.
13.
This came about — as I rightly believe —
adding grief to fortune's loss,
in the days of Lot above.
14.
The harshest eruption and earthquake
brought about this great transformation
to the world's bright lands.
15.
At the same time as those wonders happened,
there is no tangled doubt
that the great lake rose as well.
16.
At that same time the billowing seas
lifted the fair lands of Denmark
from the bright swan's shining shore.
17.
Then first the Swedes beheld
that marvellous sight —
the land they came to call Sjælland.
18.
All about our earth the mighty
power of wonders grew —
at Christ's death, the great earthquake.
19.
It was greater than men can nearly guess:
it encompassed the entire globe —
every land and sea, one might say.
20.
Such wonders of substance you may call mighty —
both Tacitus and Pliny
wrote of them faithfully.
21.
The northern continent likewise trembled
and shook on the earthquake's wheel —
its damage was not small.
22.
More of this I will not pour
into your soul's ear —
it does not please me to go on,
least of all this time.
Narrative
23.
The clash subsided, the mountains too,
where the bravest of warriors
had settled their duel
with sharpest strokes.
24.
Both of them — wearied and beaten —
endured through the hard
blows of battle,
and began to speak of brotherhood.
25.
And when, at once, they spoke in peace,
a wagon swiftly drove toward them
and took them both away.
26.
Onward drawn to Vefrey's halls,
the heroes were carried home —
she greeted them with great joy.
27.
They took refreshment, found rest and comfort,
then swore the bond of brotherhood,
content in fortune's estate.
28.
When the time came for the wagon's journey,
the prince's heir rode swiftly away
on the galloping steeds.
29.
Sturlaugr followed the warrior bold
to King Valdi's hall;
they declared the peace was made.
30.
The king rejoiced at such tidings —
but the bold, the industrious
Sturlaugr departs the saga here.
31.
Some time later, the prince
took Ingibjörg as wife to Framarr —
many great deeds followed.
32.
Then after that, sorrows quenched all joy:
King Valdi's fair lady
walked the cold road of death.
33.
The king mourned the tear-goddess —
until at last the dark bear's blue night
lifted from his brow.
34.
Hidden in battle-garb, Framarr desired war,
and drove his fleet of ships
out upon the wet promontory.
35.
Robbed of joy, the prince in sorrow
followed the famous heir
out upon the sea-road.
36.
They bound fellowship, they were content together,
and wherever the sharp prow cut,
they won victory everywhere.
37.
When summer ended, they left the lobster-deep,
set the wave-steeds under yoke,
and entered some sheltered bay.
38.
The host took rest and found respite,
until the dawn-heir waded
across the fields and onto the path.
39.
The sun was not far from the south
when men saw fifteen vessels
rushing toward the war-maiden.
40.
Among them floated a hungry dragon-ship;
far and wide it ploughed forward,
and upon it stood a maddened giant.
41.
Hellish in size, tall and mighty too —
his appearance was not bright:
he bore a great many blemishes.
42.
The troll-host drove the cranes of battle
from the demon-trails
in toward the prince's ships.
43.
With grim silence and dark roaring together,
the giant asked who ruled there
over the sea-steeds of the skerries.
44.
Framarr answered the beast roughly:
"A host ready for battle stands here —
King Valdi of Gautland commands."
45.
"Speak, you wretch, come hither, ugly one —
tell the carrion-raven's master
your lineage and your name."
46.
"From what quarter did the blue sea-roads
bring you here into our harbour?"
And to this the giant answered:
47.
"The one named Kolur — he who made the forest bleed —
was that crooked quarreller,
Kroppinbakur — my father.
48.
In the Mundu-mountains, mightier than the greatest trolls,
my mother builds her cave —
she is ever loyal in her counsel to me.
49.
I come to seek Framarr upon the battle-field —
Herfinnur's heir must know
that vengeance cannot be spared.
50.
Down upon him — that is what must come —
for my father's and my brother's death-guilt,
that my mother's grief be quenched.
51.
Sóti is my name — know that, warrior —
all heroes fear my terrible
and valiant manhood."
52.
"Hero, listen — here your journeys end.
Your beast shall not frighten me:
Framarr now speaks to you."
53.
Sóti answered the sword-bearer's challenge:
"I must call you to the duelling-ground —
if you dare to face me."
54.
"Framarr, that suits you well enough.
Let us spare the company,
while we go to the island."
55.
Having spoken, they steeled their nerve
and walked from the golden ships —
the double-blind moon shone upon the path.
56.
There the friend-of-father halted,
while they set their feet
upon the cloak spread on the ground.
57.
To their misfortune, Sóti hunched his back
and bent it low,
bearing a naked knife in his claw.
58.
Up under the warrior's mail,
the villain thrust a straight blow —
the wound gaped through the belly.
59.
The bright steel stood in the heart's roots.
Framarr found his death there —
the blood reddened the maiden's cheek.
60.
The king sees that Framarr has fallen;
his heart convulsed at the shield's ruin —
the hero leapt ashore.
61.
He strode toward Sóti swiftly, the fast-footed Valdi —
the giant brought his skull down,
and the thunder of battle crashed upon it.
62.
It did not bite at all on the bones of Sóti's skull,
but his eyelids crumpled to his cheeks
and the giant spun around.
63.
The king wrestled the giant off his haunches —
he tripped and tumbled off balance,
and was hanged right there after.
64.
"Sóti's Skerries" those rocks are called since then,
and the old tales also read
that the place is named Sóti's Ness.
65.
The fleet and the wealth after Sóti's death,
the host of the ruin's army,
King of Gautland took for himself.
66.
From there, departing swiftly —
the sea-riders — they ploughed the deep,
sails stood in the mast-shrouds.
67.
Twenty-four wave-horses chose the path
and ran their course with crashing prows
straight to Gautland.
68.
Set upon the shore, the hero stained with glory —
he lets the fame of many deeds be known,
while Framarr mourns Ingibjörg.
69.
Some time later, the king's fair daughter
gave birth to a handsome boy —
joy at that birth was great.
70.
He was named Hlér, sender of masts;
Framarr's son bore
the skills of his father's life.
71.
With grandfather and grandmother the sword-god dwelt;
his growth demanded it strongly —
until he had reached fifteen years.
72.
Hjálmar's description, which men desire to know:
he was then the fairest
of all the branches of the sail-tree.
73.
So beautiful was the sun-sea's timber
that everyone's heart laughed
when they beheld his noble form.
74.
Tall and strong, the guardian of the dragon's meadow
bore more strength than all the people,
and no less wondrous speed.
75.
In all the land no man could equal
Hjálmar in skill —
in the crafts of sword-play and wits both.
76.
Glad of manner, well-tempered too,
he tended with splendour
the craft of verse and the harp's art.
77.
So bold of heart — the bright god of hair —
was Hjálmar, that "Hugumstóri"
(the Bold-Hearted) was added to his name.
78.
To tell the tales of his days would be —
none fairer, none mightier,
more generous or swifter.
79.
At fifteen, the tearful goddess's warrior
first went a-raiding:
he tested his heart and mettle.
80.
He felled the slingers and the sea-vikings,
and wherever battle was joined,
he had the victory always.
81.
To Vindland he drove his steeds of the sea,
laid waste the country there —
the hosts fell in battle.
82.
Three sea-fortresses, and the meadow of battle,
Hjálmar won in Vindland,
in the torrent of the waves.
83.
From there he held his course on the thunder-belt,
with plunder and a hardened force —
the war-gull sang high above.
84.
The sea's joy and the battle-brightness gladdened him —
Hjálmar the Bold, the sword-god,
his ships numbered fifteen.
85.
Past the weeping, toward Garðaríki he steered;
no harm befell him on the deep —
he came ashore at the capital.
86.
Hjálmar's grandfather — tamer of the sword's storm —
had lain four years by then
as a pale corpse in his mound.
87.
Trana ruled the kingdom,
though she counted seven and seventy years,
for she still lived on.
88.
The queen wished to greet
her dear grandson with joy —
it seemed a new sun had risen.
89.
Now this one thing grieved the lady:
her kingdom was plundered,
and no host sufficed to defend the land.
90.
The one called Dúngaður, that famous lord,
drove his warriors on in iron-rage
from the Giantlands in the north.
91.
Greater than any mortal, mightier than trolls —
his terrible host was filled
with fourteen maddened berserkers.
92.
The queen's army at the assemblies
was forced to bow, utterly beaten,
every man brought low.
93.
Hjálmar offered himself, with the red fire
of battle, most wondrous and swift,
to bring peace to the queen's realm.
94.
His host arrayed and marshalled down,
the Bold-Hearted in the sword-storm —
Trana then took courage.
95.
Before Hjálmar began the blade-storm,
he entered Trana's chamber
and summoned the sword-goddess.
96.
"Fair war-garments — the treasured gifts —
hang beneath the eaves above,
over the queen's own bed."
97.
The aged lady spoke to the young warrior:
"Hero, take them there —
the battle-garments of Týrus.
98.
Few mortals will be able to wield them
under the open sky —
no finer weapons can be found.
99.
The king then fell in the maiden-storm of battle;
I kept them and now give them to you,
having never forgotten to guard them well."
100.
The hero girded himself,
the fierce-hearted warrior —
his sinew showed its strength,
and the sword danced in his mighty hand.
101.
When the battle-garb had wrapped the splendid hero,
he gave thanks to his grandmother
from the depths of his heart.
102.
So without delay, leading his host,
he marches against Dúngaður —
the spear-storm's darkness falls.
103.
The hawk of thunder rests a moment —
but the gloom grows dark upon the fields,
and the mask of night creeps close.
Ríma VI
Note: The 1859 print edition contains nine rímur, but the OCR scan has lost the section headers for Rímur VII and VIII. The stanza numbering runs continuously (1–97) between the Ríma VI and Ríma IX markers. The missing page 66 of the original print likely contained one or both ríma headers. The following translation presents the full text as it appears in the source, with the Ríma VI header as the only surviving section marker. The narrative covers: Hjálmar's victory over Dúngaður and the liberation of Garðaríki; Trana's farewell; Hjálmar's campaigns in Poland; his arrival in Sweden as champion of King Yngi; and the challenge of Nadd-Oddur.
Mansöngr
1.
The bright mead revives the weary mind,
the clear draught of the god of verse —
as though the spirit took flight
to a fair land where joy grows.
2.
When the horn's storm of verse
no longer quickens the field of thought,
then all the strength is drained
from the Muse's cup of Gunnlöð.
3.
That is to say: when songs
illuminate the tales they bear,
and fair sounds follow along
with the beautiful metres of the rímur.
4.
The rímur had their chief beginning
in keeping the sagas better alive,
and with the gift that God gave —
to gladden the folk a little.
5.
Emperors had poems composed,
kings and earls and heroes;
then the people most eagerly listened,
and from these sprang the sagas.
6.
In later ages the tales
were spread again in verse,
as on high imaginings
many a treasure of wit was praised.
7.
Those who could shape their pleasures
in the craft of many a kind of poem
were not all the least of men —
not all were sluggards and layabouts.
8.
A host of clerics brought the people
fair-fashioned rímur of worth;
lawmen composed poems too,
and laymen beyond all counting.
9.
They considered it unequal — those men
who stood at the forge of verse —
that birds do not fly alike:
short feathers are not taken equally.
10.
Yet one may come far enough
from earth against another;
each with his own beak
sings and flutters undaunted.
11.
No bird fouls another out,
though all do not sing alike there:
each his rímur from the throat
warbles forth as he was given.
12.
They do not take foreign tunes
to shriek across the sky,
for they are well practised
in their native tone.
13.
Birds of heaven, hear me now —
with all my heart I ask this:
hold steadfast in loyalty and trust,
and keep your old tunes alive.
14.
Though tame birds may practise
foreign tunes with skill,
and after their chatter pay
no heed to native song —
15.
Though peacocks may shriek
foreign verse from far away,
you keep on chirping Icelandic all the same,
O wagtails — never be silent.
16.
Let it be sweet and familiar to you
to sing and compose the craft of rímur;
let the heron mock the swimming,
if he himself cannot do it.
Narrative
17.
Hjálmar had won the field of battle
against the king who ruled the land;
now all the horns rang out —
the sword drank the blood of warriors.
18.
The berserkers from ancient times
stormed forward in giant-rage;
they dealt Hjálmar's men
countless blows with the fire of war.
19.
The hero saw that they bore down
and threatened to fell his force;
he went to them and thrust a keen spear
into the foremost berserk's belly.
20.
All the others then raged wild,
roaring in a ring around the warrior;
hard they shook their sword-hilts —
yet he managed to ward off every blow.
21.
Hjálmar was like a lion
among the scoundrels then;
he split skulls and severed arms —
his blade hewed limbs from bodies.
22.
There is no need to lengthen the song
though they fought like madmen:
all the berserkers at last
gave up their lives and blood before him.
23.
But meanwhile the opposing host,
the fiercest of fighters, grew —
Hjálmar's folk, now fewer,
began to fall back.
24.
Hjálmar lent his force new strength,
so that his aid prevailed;
with the fire of the mast-ship
he kindled the battle anew.
25.
He strode forward in the dance of war,
most terrible — the slaughter increased;
the prince's host without any pause
began to fall like waves.
26.
One of the giant's bravest warriors
ran straight to the tents —
the king, who sat within,
waited for news of victory.
27.
In the chief tent the king sat
with gaming-board and wine for sport:
"You had better guard yourself, O king!"
the wild-voiced one cried out.
28.
"The queen's champion is fiercely hard —
he makes a death-bed for many;
he pronounces death-law on the hosts —
one warrior who rides with them."
29.
"In a short time, this single fierce man
has hewn all your berserkers to death —
I believe none is his match."
30.
"He fells all our folk;
no one can stand against him;
wherever he bears the war-god's fire,
the open gallop of hell stands ready."
31.
"What dire straits are these, O king —
have you any word to speak?
I shall give this spear-god
grim vengeance and his death."
32.
The war-chief's hero sprang forth —
so swift into the fray's confusion,
shaking the weapons hard in his hands —
many feared his coming.
33.
Grimmur felled the Gauta-host,
the giant with his cruel blade;
Hjálmar then made haste
when he saw his folk were falling.
34.
They met at the battleground's edge:
Dúngaður swung his sword
with terrible force against the hero,
heavily burdened with rage.
35.
The shields met that blow,
yet the strong plates were not harmed;
quickly the spear-point rose again —
the famous fire-warrior struck.
36.
The blade's edge bit to the marrow,
the king's arm was sheered upon it —
it cut through the shield-wall clean
at the right elbow.
37.
The sword fell to the earth with the hand;
the king begs for quarter,
and laid himself with life and soul
gently at the mercy of the famous one.
38.
Hjálmar gave the king his life;
he was carried to the tents —
that settled the conflict of war,
and the swords went into their sheaths.
39.
The giants vowed never again
to harry the Garðar-folk;
from there they departed, driven out,
while Hjálmar held the field.
40.
So the giants, as the saga tells,
and Hjálmar counted his host:
half his men lay dead,
robbed of both life and strength.
41.
So Hjálmar rode toward the fortress —
Trana greeted him with joy;
the sound of victory and bright praise
could be heard through every hall.
42.
She thanked him for the freedom of host and land,
the aged lady, robbed of kin —
five fortresses and shining wealth
she gave him as reward.
43.
He stayed there through the winter,
with honour and with joy,
and mustered his host together
when spring returned.
44.
He prepared to explore the bright field
of the sea in the cold gale-season;
the tall jewel-tree of women
then spoke with Hjálmar:
45.
"Garðaríki I wish you indeed
to take from me now;
it is your inheritance — it does not please me
that it should leave your hand."
46.
Hjálmar answers the aged
ring-goddess in return:
"I am no less born to Gautaríki —
I cannot accept this."
47.
"To this I will not agree —
but are you still fit to rule?"
And with that they parted,
near the edge of the thunder-belt.
48.
So Trana, as the saga tells,
was surely long since dead.
But Hjálmar drove his ships across the sea
on the steeds of the keel's fire, in need.
49.
Where Hjálmar's bright sun of battle
shone in the mist's gleam,
he won victory and the bed of the brow —
his fame was spoken across fair courts.
50.
He sailed to Poland with his war-bands;
the Poles were found hard —
never before had he encountered
a fiercer people for war.
51.
Ten battles of the sword-clash
Hjálmar fought there in the summer;
more than half his Gauta-host
went shrieking down to death.
52.
Always he had victory,
though the spear-storm raged dark,
and in the end he likewise won
five fortresses from the land's defenders.
53.
When autumn lightened the war-burden,
the cold bay's ship-goader
loaded heavy with plunder,
set homeward for the Gauta-land.
54.
The wind stretched the grey mouth wide,
the spray surged and foamed;
the giant's breath howled high,
the gale hardened on the sails.
55.
The rigging sang, the wheels creaked,
the cranes of the billow
bore the ship swiftly forward —
long upon the wave's ridge,
the sea-maiden's back was scarred.
56.
The wave-horses surged forth,
the foam boiled at the breast-boards;
the swollen billows then —
the surge gnawed at their hulls.
57.
The journey shortened across the mackerel's stream;
the stilt-walkers of the oars
brought wealth and warriors
into harbour by the Gauta-shore.
58.
Eighteen flood-horses together
Hjálmar fastened there on the sand,
and held as swiftly as he could
toward the hall, now he was on land.
59.
Great was the joy of greeting;
tales of glory were heard there —
wondrous treasure from the sea-horse
was carried to the king's own halls.
60.
With grandfather and mother the sword-god stayed
through the winter,
amid joy and honour,
while the giant of the gales grumbled.
61.
When the gentle brow of spring appeared
and the blossoms quickened the faded earth,
Hjálmar rode out upon the rocking fields
with his host to go a-viking.
62.
Nowhere did the sword-storm rest
on the sea through that summer —
rather he let his blade sing
the victory-mass of Skofnung.
63.
Wherever the bright ships of fire
appeared, the sea-wolves fled —
they lost their wealth and gave their lives
before the vikings of Hjálmar.
64.
He had won the spear-god's gear,
a wealth of rings and serpents' strand,
a fleet of ships and a mighty host —
his fame was carried over sea and land.
65.
He ceased from battle-work,
and when autumn came upon the channel,
early he drove the wave-steeds
toward the shore of the Svía-realm.
66.
Sweden was then ruled
by a king whose name was Yngi;
the fame and ancient right of him
was spoken through fair courts.
67.
The king bids Hjálmar
come to the hall with his company —
the warrior did not hesitate
to accept the throne-king's invitation.
68.
The king spared nothing of his might
in receiving the heroes well —
no worldly splendour was wanting,
nor any sign of courtly warmth.
69.
One could hear the sounds of joy;
some praised the gifts they received;
most drained the horn's stream
and thereby grew content.
70.
Hjálmar, eager to wield the shield,
accepted the honours graciously,
and swore himself to the Swedish king,
becoming guardian of the land.
71.
The hero defended the king's realm,
almost destroying all the vikings;
in the fiercest storms he offered no harm
to farmers or to merchants.
72.
The people of the land loved Hjálmar
far above any other man;
most wished for his friendship —
prized it more than gold or gems.
73.
Once a wave-horse let him ride the sea
upon its back —
a hundred men were aboard,
and they were the finest warriors.
74.
With twelve attendants he went ashore,
bearing a bright shield and the gear of war;
he found rest in a fair grove
when the morning sun was beautiful.
75.
He took up the golden harp
and composed a new poem —
playful, delicate verses,
praising the Swedish king's deeds.
76.
Let the warrior enjoy his poetry,
let the harp's pleasure come first;
the saga keeps its own call —
so that the matter may be drawn forth.
77.
In those days there lived among the folk
— so it is told —
Nadd-Oddur, the most famous warrior
of Loðinkinna Grímur's sons.
78.
His fame still lives,
surpassing all vikings:
no mortal men could defeat him
on the field of weapons.
79.
Far and wide he went across the weathering sea;
he was told of Hjálmar —
that no braver man under the sun
had ever been born a warrior.
80.
The famous hero swore an oath:
to find Hjálmar, the celebrated one,
and learn whose strong hand
could give the greater victory.
81.
Far he went across land and sea,
the famous battle-priest,
until he found the harbour
where Hjálmar's mast-lion was moored.
82.
The man asked about the wave-rider —
who owned the well-manned ship?
Oddur answered: "The world knows —
it is not worth concealing."
83.
"Hjálmar the Bold-Hearted is aboard,
the horse of the flood —
he fears no dark sight
of the war-storm or the spear-blizzard."
84.
"The gilded god of the serpent's ground went ashore
for amusement;
if you seek him, I believe
you will find him there."
85.
When Oddur had learned
where the spear-bearer was,
he traced his steps from the tent-bench;
the old war-goddess trembled.
86.
Hjálmar played the harp in peace,
composing a new ode —
he was not at all startled
though he saw an armed man approaching.
87.
Boldly Oddur strode toward him,
gripping the bare wolf-sword;
where Hjálmar's harp sang,
he greeted him with a cold manner.
88.
Oddur speaks sharply:
"It is a weak warrior's way
to sit among maidens' songs
and practise the harp's play."
89.
"I have searched for you
far and wide across the lands;
meet me on the island at once,
if you have any courage in you."
90.
Hjálmar did not alter his manner —
he paid this speech no heed,
until the poems he intended
were finished, and the harp's strife done.
91.
Then he stood up, laughing,
and said he wished to hear:
whoever claims a duel
may present it on the spot.
92.
Oddur declared himself at once;
Hjálmar answered — "That is well.
I have heard of your courage —
the hardest warrior of the sword's gale."
93.
"You shall have your fight with me;
that is the fame of us both."
Then they prepared themselves
for the bitter bed of wounds.
94.
Beneath his mail, Oddur wore
a single shirt that iron could not bite;
he was always wrapped in it —
the war-god's refuge in battle.
95.
Hjálmar took the garments of Týrus,
put them on and feared nothing;
the bold-hearted heroes
took the path toward the island.
96.
The fires of battle were raised aloft;
rays blazed far in every direction;
sparks flew asunder
when the edges ground their ring.
97.
Let the heroes hack and strike —
I will not linger there tonight;
the eyes grow heavy —
and so I set down the tools of verse.
Ríma IX
Mansöngr
1.
May the Muse lend strength to my limbs,
the goddess of song, as is her custom;
may joy find peace to stand —
most praise her name.
2.
The honoured strings of verse
quicken the melody to bestow;
the children of men, the forge of pleasure —
even if weariness is streaming.
3.
For the frost-laden ones, much of evil
this age bestows;
the strongest arts of glory perish,
the lively thoughts it quenches.
4.
Many fine deeds are burdened by sorrow —
so it goes, declining;
few in this land
receive the gifts of craft.
5.
So the one art our people owned —
our glory's forge —
can now be mocked, loud or low,
by the learned who despise it.
6.
Then the spirit will feel weary
when, in bitterness, one says:
"to compose a single verse of rímur
is more than I can manage."
7.
That is the loss of many an age —
the grief of man and ring-giver —
that to our cold land are brought
so few things to gladden.
8.
Show me the bright-cloth —
(may the ship's dues be met) —
what is there to do with your hands
through the pleasant evenings?
9.
Against that labour the hand contends —
groaning, jingling, grumbling;
the vigil wearies eye and soul —
the long dark is grievous.
10.
One remedy there is, well known to us
(let no one forbid those leaps):
let it be sent as swiftly as may be
to the market-towns at once.
11.
There is merriment, there is wine,
there one may fill the bowl;
the sparkling cup gladdens well —
a good punch-bowl is then welcome.
12.
A mirror the lady might esteem,
a game and a scent to the nose —
yet one may note in passing:
none of this is given free.
13.
Until one learns the reason why,
this sometimes fails;
the home-pleasures, those sweeter ones,
most ladies think the best.
14.
What use is it for me to dwell upon
the gentle sport of ladies?
Let the fair ones gain the shuttle's joy —
a poem's life is short.
15.
The strength of song dwindles in me;
one image alone now looms —
I am now past seventy,
before some begin to groan.
16.
I count my mansöngur done;
the least I cool the warriors' cares:
now choose among the wares,
and fare you well — I fall silent.
Narrative
17.
Pale and breathless, the steed of verse I rode
found rest in its harbour,
where the bright battle-sun
strewed its beams upon the warriors.
18.
Long they fought with grim resolve,
the Gauta-men on the burning field;
neither company had yet seen
a harder contest of spears.
19.
Neither could quench the clash of strokes
nor subdue the other's worth;
for three days they held their fury —
the sparks of war flew wild.
20.
Hjálmar's blade carved a bloody path,
the wound-iron hardened;
from Oddur's shield it sheared all ornament —
the shirt alone guarded him from wounds.
21.
His right hand lost there
the smallest finger — a scratch —
yet for the rest of his days the famous one
bore that scar from a single duel.
22.
No shield could shelter from the fire-flash
or the blow of the goddess's track —
one ring of the mail alone
was scored across the breastplate's centre.
23.
They made peace, brothers' terms, halted the war,
the cold of battle they quieted,
and the flood-cranes drove
toward Uppsala's midst.
24.
No quarrels troubled them after that;
a true union was pledged —
Oddur dwelt at King Yngi's side
and became a champion.
25.
The tall warrior who wielded the hand
fiercely in combat's flight
stood in years at that time
just past the fiftieth mark.
26.
The other, who with keen edges carved
the whale-road's maiden's seat,
was at this moment
fully twenty years of age.
27.
For ten years of glory they served there,
through many a war-campaign;
long together, yet each
guided his own course.
28.
In those blooming years
the rudder of joy held steady,
and of their shining exploits
many a tale was written.
29.
The proven judgment was:
of all folk who dared stand to the shield,
Hjálmar was the greatest hero
in all the northern lands.
30.
Through all those autumns
they put aside their banners,
and the sturdy warriors at Yngi's side
spent the winter days.
31.
Yngi's daughter Ingibjörg,
unwed, sat at that time;
the ring-adorned beauty —
fair, gentle, and wise.
32.
Hjálmar, ever in love,
found his kisses of the maiden's mouth;
it happened secretly and fast —
few among the men knew it.
33.
Their love was pure and unforced,
the budding of the spirit's grove;
but a painful turn came to bear
around the tenth Yule.
34.
Every man had gone into the hall;
the tall warrior of wounds was chosen;
the sons of Arngrimr of Bolm-island
stormed twelve-strong into the hall.
35.
The foremost of the bright ones in all things
was one who towered over his neighbours:
half a neck and head he bore
above Hjálmar, the tallest of men.
36.
Before those fearsome brothers the folk fled;
none dared stop their course —
the fiercest, Angantyr, strode
all the way to the king's own table.
37.
He hailed the king's court and said:
"We offer a bond of marriage.
Give your daughter to this brother of ours —
38.
His name was Hjörvarðr, once renowned,
the mightiest warrior of shields:
I have never seen an equal
standing beneath a mail-coat."
39.
When those fierce words had ended,
the mighty battle-bender spoke:
Hjálmar stood at the king's board
and raised his voice, saying:
40.
"Often, O king, we have raised the shield
on bloody, warm midstreams;
we warriors have let the lands
lie down in the arms of peace.
41.
"Likewise across the ranges and the salty sea,
we have never flinched from battle;
lands and movable wealth alike —
these we have placed in your power.
42.
"I would win the golden treasure
that rests in the king's hoard;
I have driven all others away from here —
every viking's host that came."
43.
"A better token of the sword's strife
would I accept as bride-price
than berserkers for the lady's marriage —
however famous they may be."
44.
The king says: "Truth is in that;
we shall see what comes of it.
Let the maiden herself
give the answer."
45.
"The choice of suitor does not confuse me,"
says the wise woman.
"The men offered here
are beyond comparing."
46.
The fair sun of the wave's bay —
the bride-price speech, without grief —
was asked for her saga's word,
and answered resolutely:
47.
"When would I live luckily
and rightly be my own master,
if I refuse the noblest hero
of the northern lands?
48.
I deliver this heavy verdict,
O snake-bright warrior of shields:
to young Hjálmar I give my love —
and to no one else."
49.
"It would seem a strange choice for a great king
— let no doubt be raised —
to have me given
to ill-famed berserkers."
50.
When Angantýr understood those words
and came to the terms' edge,
in the hearing of all the people,
he hurled these bitter words:
51.
"The fair goddess of the sword's song
has begun to spin the ground of fate:
on Sámsey I challenge Oddur,
to a meeting of blades with him."
52.
"The sea-journey will scarce affright you,
the road along the lobster's tongue:
we shall visit you, brothers all,
one week hence into summer."
53.
"So the tidings shall reach every land
after our encounter."
Hjálmar answered lightly, "yes" —
and handsels were exchanged.
54.
The brothers steered to the sea's gleam;
from war they raised their oars —
no one wished those warriors
a favourable wind.
55.
The companions stayed at the king's side;
they took the customary joy
until the bear-lords saw
the spirits sinking from the moon.
56.
The streams of time flow on;
the leisure of the hours runs down —
the battle-storm grows restless:
they prepared for war.
57.
They loosed from the mooring the great wave-steed;
the warriors gave their word;
on two swift wave-horses,
both ships were launched.
58.
Armoured men lined the decks;
the fire gleamed on the wave-ride;
each ship carried a hundred men,
loaded with chosen fighters.
59.
The sea-maidens sped the voyage forth
across the ocean-ground;
to Sámsey the ship drives,
under the keelson's beams.
60.
The anchor drops cleanly to the ground;
the sail waits on the yard;
with strong cables — the steeds of the slipway
were moored, lashed tight below.
61.
The foster-brothers — so it is told —
knowing no fear,
in full war-harness, just the two of them,
climbed up onto the land.
62.
They did not see again
the fair sails of the ships;
rather with swift steps
they ranged far across the island.
63.
Meanwhile, misfortune came:
Angantýr the famous
arrived and saw the mast-lion —
so he turned in toward the bay.
64.
There he meant to hunt his prey,
heavy with the quarrel's weight;
he makes himself ready,
to settle the evening of his life.
65.
The brothers offered a hard welcome,
with the bright war-spear;
the ships rammed in a moment's time —
and the victors boast their speed.
66.
They leapt ashore, and the clash was not quiet;
the fierce companies raised their strife;
against them no one had the strength —
the force in their bodies was less.
67.
Beside the mound of fallen swords
the wave stood lower still;
Oddur and Hjálmar were not at all
less famous than the others.
68.
Then hard Angantýr speaks:
"Tame the spear-shaft's flight.
Perhaps here are warriors strong enough —
Hjálmar and Oddur live.
69.
Little does it trouble me, I confess,
that the bright ones fall in thunder's deeps:
we have not yet found
their match for fighting."
70.
The foster-brothers heard every word,
the speech of the bright wave;
at one ridge they met —
the words exchanged were bitter.
71.
Hjálmar's sinews swelled then;
he thought of the carrion-raven's feast;
he cast his eyes upon the brothers —
fire-spirited — and said:
72.
"Your boast we heard just now,
from the strife of the bright swords:
to cut down an unarmed host
befits only cowards."
73.
Angantýr then softens:
"We search for you and Oddur:
we give you thanks —
for now let us sort these fellows."
74.
"Small is the honour won from corpses
of warriors below your rank:
I saw not a single man among them
who was the equal of another."
75.
Between the champions then a compact grew,
close and strict their counsel;
the rules of the island-duel were set,
and they were thus:
76.
Whoever carried his life from the island,
the survivor should honour the dead —
neither shield nor helm
nor reddened blade be taken.
77.
They changed hard shields then,
upon the moor of the hazel-ground;
five follow Hjörvarðr,
five follow Angantýr.
78.
Tyrfingr, that venom-tempered blade,
bore its reputation for great deeds;
this sworn-companion of two
was the mightiest of the brothers.
79.
Oddur speaks to Hjálmar thus —
(scarcely will I conceal my fear):
"This heavy passage of the sword-storm
the nations will long remember.
80.
The shirt is what saves you — blue mail —
though the blade's tongue scores:
I would rather that the weapons
be given to Angantýr.
81.
You should know my meaning:
that I put my honour on the line —
your threefold strength will not withstand
those heroes' blows."
82.
"It pains me that a cruel edge —
in the midst of agony —
he should drive his poisoned blade
into your body's flesh."
83.
"I am barely past thirty,
one may call me capable in all;
for a man of sixty, they say,
the fall is nearer."
84.
Hjálmar, steadfast, would not hear it;
he silenced these arguments.
Against Hjörvarðr then Oddur —
with the fire of battle's edge — goes.
85.
"Yet hear me," says Hjálmar: "I will take them
one by one in turn,
while I get the fight I need
upon the burning path."
86.
To this they listen — but patience ran out,
the enemies halted;
with gaping jaws and roaring,
they gnawed the rims of shields.
87.
Angantýr did not flinch from the wolf-blade;
in the fury of the spear-storm —
all five brothers attacked Hjálmar
at once, together.
88.
Now Hjálmar gave five brothers
the track of death's displeasure;
his sword-strokes grimly severe,
straight through their bodies.
89.
Monstrous blows fell on the warriors;
the skilled war-goddess helped him;
Angantýr gnashed his teeth,
screamed and turned blue.
90.
The shields gave way beneath the iron;
the bare feathers trembled;
before Hjálmar's buckle-strap
they fell one by one.
91.
From the sword's meeting they tumbled thus,
to the gaping mother of death;
their bodies cut asunder,
they writhed in their own blood.
92.
Hjálmar, filled with battle-fury,
went from the bath of death;
then Angantýr stormed forward —
he could stand still no longer.
93.
With a lion's heart and a monster's rage,
the spear strikes at its prey;
with a warrior's courage and hero's strength,
Hjálmar strikes back.
94.
The fair wheel of fate was spun there;
the cranes of the wave's storm —
the ringing blade of Skofnung
another time was raised.
95.
The warriors with hardened hero's wrath —
so fiercely the edges shook —
the earth trembled, and the sound of steel
the cliffs echoed back.
96.
Mail-coats tore; the wound-blade —
the blood-river adorned them;
Oddur witnessed: no one had seen
a duel more terrible.
97.
No defence could help the dreadful fight;
the flesh was flayed asunder;
each believed the other fallen —
the bright war-god's thunder.
98.
One by one, those brothers —
with Oddur's raging spirit —
all the armour still held;
the shirt sustained him.
99.
The hero exults in the glory of war,
the fiercely valiant warrior;
he believed he had never before
encountered such champions.
100.
With the reddened stream of fire
he dispatched them all to death;
the exhausted one stood on the bloody meadow,
leaning on a reddened sword.
101.
Wearied with effort, he could barely stand,
badly drenched in dark blood;
from the dead brothers' bodies
he wiped the blood from his eyelids.
102.
Oddur is eager now to see
if Angantýr might be won;
he seized the grey war-goddess's grip —
but the giant fell there at last.
103.
Hjálmar, staggering, managed to walk
from the noise of the brave spears;
to one small mound he sat himself down,
his back against the hillside.
104.
There the reddened warrior ran, swift —
his voice spoke its farewell:
"Brother, you are grievously wounded;
your face is greatly changed."
105.
Oddur showed him a gentle look,
his eyes bright like the battle's light;
then Hjálmar, stepping down from speech,
raised his voice in verse.
106.
"Sixteen wounds — full four times four —
I carry, swift in torment;
I feel the poison now burst
into my very heart.
107.
While I am able, I will shape these words in song;
sit and listen meanwhile.
Let the corpses lap the blood —
carry my body hence from here.
108.
Twelve times two battles
I fought beside my king,
the gust of swords across the war-field —
and never took a wound.
109.
On the meadows of the sword I won —
with rich and mighty courage —
fifteen fortresses before I
came to take this one.
110.
Four treasures of gold I bore,
never failing in my duty;
I was born, by right,
to two kingdoms' thrones.
111.
Boldly I walked onto the misty moor
with a polished war-spear —
yet I craved nothing else
but fame and victory.
112.
At this last reckoning of death
my heart quenches its grief:
now the victory we see
towers above all things.
113.
Death will come to me soon now,
from many a bitter wound;
my heart is content, while it may be,
beside Ingibjörg.
114.
My maiden has looked upon my journey's end
and knows it must now be;
let the bright linen
stand at my feet on this shore.
115.
The armlet given from the golden earth —
I prize the soul higher;
no parting above the ground
can wound me more.
116.
Draw the ring from off my hand,
the stiff sword-chain;
gentle Ingibjörg gave it to me —
carry it back to my wife.
117.
With thanks I now depart indeed
from wife and from wealth;
a gold-adorned hand least befits
the one who is dead.
118.
Surely the bed of the corpse awaits me,
though the rings still pay their dues;
lay my remnants here —
I die badly as a ghost.
119.
Now I sing myself last from this world;
home and speech grow dim.
The battle-goddess, carry the refrain —
my death-songs — away.
120.
While the tracks of war led the path
from life's battlefield,
he sang his fate, his fame, and his death
in a fair poem.
121.
At last the praise-song faded;
hearing and speech collapsed;
the spirited soul so departed —
the cup of the breath was broken.
122.
The island's people became aware
of the whine of shield-rims;
they came to the burial-mound's work,
the bright swords of the cunning warrior.
123.
The swift warrior sealed the cairn,
the bones of the slain;
then carried on the tiller's hawk
Hjálmar, lifeless now.
124.
So the sails were hauled aloft,
the gentle moon-land sailor;
the seabird on the beautiful wave
split the wind with its wings.
125.
The sail swelled with wind and song;
the vessel, wrapped in golden runes,
the grey surge bowed its prow —
the brow of the wave rode stern.
126.
The giant's wing sent the lady of spears
speeding on her course;
the cable swung in the gentle breeze,
the harbour on the journey's end.
127.
The strong one lifted up the bloody body,
the bright hair's cunning carrier;
to the king's daughter he came home —
to the castle's memory.
128.
Down the hill the ring-bearer,
the sender of the sword's thirst, came;
she walked out, and there before her
he was laid upon the stretchers.
129.
He told the tidings of his journey;
the sending of the lady was not hidden:
the ring he presented, and the mail-coat's sword —
and the death-songs he recited.
130.
When she had heard the last of the bold one's song,
the graceful maiden
fell forward upon the body,
her arms drenched in blood.
131.
In embrace the young beloved
paid the tribute of the dead;
he folded her gently in his cloak —
she had died, broken with grief.
132.
The high king himself then saw it;
the fair woman lay beside her lord —
the heavy mourning at the mound,
which he commanded built.
133.
When the body was readied,
the true friend's remains,
Oddur bore them inward
with the strong hero's arms.
134.
The body's temple was locked tight,
with the hard warriors' company;
over it were laid
the heavy sods and nails.
135.
Oddur, having spoken his grief plainly,
went from the sealed mound:
"Is my fallen one's service done —
and do you rest in peace?"
136.
Friends mourn through the ocean's deep,
the friends' allotted portion;
the weary spirits drag themselves home —
and so the saga is ended.
Eptirmáli (Epilogue)
137.
It suits my mind
to wrestle with the forge of praise;
this shall be the very last time
that I compose rímur.
138.
Five years upon my back I find
past the full eightieth;
wounds and pains dwell in my mind —
the slumber of the grave in my thoughts.
139.
Those who can will set these songs in order,
friends of well-wrought words;
let those who please enjoy the verse —
and the rest may grumble in peace.
140.
The blemished poems, men
read through in winter —
eighteen hundred and twenty-two,
and ten and seven years more.
Barnalegur þanki um byrtu og dymmnu (A Childlike Thought on Light and Darkness)
by the Same Author
1.
Night held dominion,
the far-embracing one,
for she had no warmer rival.
Shadow sat in the valleys,
and dreaming Njörun offered
peace across all her kingdom.
2.
It was like the stillness of death
upon the lady of riches;
all was come to quiet.
The flowers slept,
the dandelions slept,
the leaves and the lilies slept.
3.
Shadow flung itself
across every shore
and wished to take its rest;
but all the heavens,
bright and clear, gaped open —
the lady clothed in darkness.
4.
Dark was the world,
dull was life,
no light gladdened the living.
The great one saw it —
the fountain of mercy,
father of life and light.
5.
He let the heavens glitter
with fair-faced stars,
so that something might shine the better —
yet it was not enough
to chase the shadow;
it lay as still as before.
6.
Then the almighty let
streaks of light
fling themselves across the sky —
their golden belt
more beautiful to behold
than stars in the distance standing.
7.
Shimmering, sparkling,
like lightning itself —
the Northern Lights, we name them.
The father of lights
found it still not enough —
not light sufficient was given.
8.
So he gave the earth
a wondrous great
sphere of light like gold.
That one could chase the shadow,
could banish fear —
and the children of darkness it gladdened.
The moonlight, though,
could not warm
the earth one degree more.
9.
Light and warmth he wished
to unite together,
to create a lord of the heights —
and send that light
combined with warmth
which life and joy would carry.
10.
He therefore fashioned
the shining sun —
fairer cannot be seen.
No mortal eyes
can endure
to bear that brighter light.
The sun gives warmth
to the body's limbs;
life and radiance she sends.
11.
Then a flood of beams poured
from the sea of light
over everything that can be named.
All things then reached
for what was made —
the warmth and light's bright draught.
12.
Then all things rejoiced, newly lit,
the wife of riches —
warm and fair and gentle.
Then all things were glad
that shared the beams,
and shadow crept into hiding.
13.
But shadow also chased the sun's light —
14.
And made it an exile,
so that nowhere could it hold;
men saw at last
that it ran toward the northwest
and sank itself into the sea.
15.
Then the mirror of heaven,
the whole of it,
in the light of the thunder's streams —
16.
Then all things were glad
with the flooding beams,
and the earth was wondrously arrayed.
17.
Like the clearest mirror,
with sparkling radiance,
the sea spread out toward the sky.
18.
All nature laughed,
and fair grew the earth,
though shadow crept not from hiding.
19.
But when the splendid
sun had finished
her circuit, round in shape,
and dealt out beams
on every side,
she rested for a time.
20.
Then shadow crept out
and lay upon the earth,
covering sea and land,
until the noble
queen of light
was dressed again in her beams.
Then shadow fled once more
into hiding, for
it is always afraid of light.
This does not end
while dark and light
hold each other in the world.
21.
Nor is the soul's path
locked in the body —
when it sees the bright lights gleaming,
warm grows the heart,
and the fettered soul
rows on the oars of hope.
And wishes to fly heavenward,
to behold
the springs of life and light,
where the gaping void
cannot restrain
the grander contemplation.
My one familiar fault remains —
wild temper's cruel laming —
the weary, wine-refreshed by pain,
and rousing joy the same.
HE. Jónsson.
Colophon
Source: Rímur af Hjálmari hugum stóra. By Hallgrímur Jónsson, sveitalæknir (rural doctor) at Miklagarður in Skagafjörður. Published Akureyri, 1859. Printer: the Press of the Northern and Eastern Districts, by H. Helgason. Patron: Grímur Laxdal. Nine rímur retelling the saga of Hjálmar the Bold-Hearted — a fornaldarsaga hero. Source text from the 1859 Akureyri print edition via Internet Archive.
Translation: Good Works Translation by the New Tianmu Anglican Church and Claude, 2026. Translated directly from nineteenth-century Icelandic. No prior English translation is known to exist. This is the first known English translation. Gospel register.
Translation note: The underlying saga is Hjálmars saga hugumstóra, a lost fornaldarsaga known to have existed in medieval Iceland. The manuscript history, traced in the formáli (preface), records that Björn Hítdælakappa brought the tale from Garðaríki (Russia), that Bergur Sokkason first wrote it on vellum, and that it passed through several hands — deteriorating with age — until Séra Jón at Sandar made the surviving copy. Hallgrímur Jónsson versified it in nine rímur. The story follows King Týrus of Garðaríki, his daughter Trana, the berserker Kolur Kroppinbakur (Hunchback), the champions Hrómundur and his son Herfinnur, and the next generation — Framarr, young Hjálmar (Herfinnur's grandson by Hlér), and the foster-brother Nadd-Oddur. The climax — the duel on Sámsey against Angantýr and his brothers, Hjálmar's death-song, and Ingibjörg's death of grief — draws on the same legendary material found in Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks.
OCR note: The source text (1859 Akureyri print, Internet Archive) has significant OCR corruption throughout. Several ríma headers were lost: Ríma 2 is marked "2. ABíma." (OCR corruption of "2. Ríma"); Ríma 5 is marked "5. Rímae."; the headers for Rímur VII and VIII are entirely missing (page 66 of the print is lost or out of sequence in the scan). The stanza numbering between the Ríma VI and Ríma IX markers runs continuously (1–97) with no restart, making it impossible to determine the original boundaries. The text is presented as "Ríma VI" with a note on this structural uncertainty. The appendix poem "Barnalegur þanki um byrtu og dymmnu" (A Childlike Thought on Light and Darkness) follows the ninth ríma and is by the same author.
Blood Rule attestation: This translation was produced directly from the Icelandic source text. No existing English translation was consulted as reference (none is known to exist). The English is independently derived from reading the Icelandic.
Stanza count: Formáli (9) + Ríma I (82) + Ríma II (93) + Ríma III (91) + Ríma IV (89) + Ríma V (103) + Rímur VI–VIII (97) + Ríma IX (140) + Eptirmáli (4) + Appendix poem (21) = approximately 729 stanzas. Complete cycle.
Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.
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Source Text: Rímur af Hjálmari hugum stóra
Icelandic source text from the 1859 Akureyri print edition by Hallgrímur Jónsson. OCR from Internet Archive. Note: OCR corruption is present throughout — line breaks, page numbers, and garbled characters reflect the quality of the digital scan, not the original print.
RÁUDIR
af
Hjálmari Hugum stóra.
Kveðnar af
sveitalækni Hallgrími Jónssyni
á Miklagarði í Skagafirði.
Kostnaðarmaður:
Grímur Laxdal.
- á '
| Akureyri 1859.
Prontaðar Í prentsmiðju Norður- og Austurumdæmis-
ins, bjá H. Hölgasyni.
FORMÁLINN.
-
ögu Hjálmars sjáið nú sónar klædda
blandi, víða hefur hrakist sú helzt á vest-
urlandi. -
Björn Ilítdæla kappi knár kom frá
Garðaríki, þar var hálft um annað ár,
afreks kempu líki. -
Inn hjer komin eptir það öflugur
beitir hjörva, sögu Hjálmars ynnti að,
einni veitzlu á Törfa. -
Geymdist hún á herjans kon hjer Í
bragna minni þar til Bergur Sokkason,
söguna reit á skinni. -
Um hana talast upp frá því ekki
neitt þess konar þar til hún komst eignir
í, Ara Þorkellssonar. -
Teitur dóma dug búinn, Dalasýslu
er þáði, fyrir Ara áa sinn, æfintýrið skráði. -
Færstum bar hún fyrir sjón, fúi og
ai
4
mölur hrjáði, hæna síðast sjera Jón, Sanda
prestur skráði.
-
Yfir Hjálmars æfintýr, ærið margt þó
hamli, dregið hef jeg hróðrar vír, Hall-
grímur Jónsson gamli. -
Hrek jeg frá mjer hróðrar skrá, hyrj-
ar vinds á dali formálinn því endast á
Amicus Beni vale. -
Ríma.
Mansöngurinn. -
Q) þú mærin yndislig, elskuð söngva
gytja, ýmu blærinn þráir þig, þú?ert.fær að
gleðja mig. ; -
Yndis stundir all fáar, andar fjöri hlúa
nema lundar lífgi far, lofnin sunda hriputar. -
Almátt þinn jeg undrast nær, athuga lífs-
ins mæðu hvað þú sinnu sundum fjær, sorga
linna hrundið fær. -
þó að hrekkir hreifi sjer, hlátur og öfund
líka, dyggð svo þekki þína hjer, þú munt ekki
gleyma mjer. -
Eins þó fólið forsmánar, Fama vængi
þenji, út úr bóli anstyggðar að hástóli lyginnar. -
Og þó báðar ætli sjer, okkar tryggðum
spilla jafnt sem áður þjóna? jeg þjer, þín svo
náðin dugi mjer. -
því jeg reyna marg opt má, mig hvað vel
þú styður þar svo greina þori frá rr er sú eina
tryggð jeg á- -
Himin kynjuð ertu ein, Béð og þanka
smíðar, þínum vin í þraut ó sein, þú ber skin
á marga grein.
6
-
Olund skæð og ömun flýr, undan veldi
þínu, þjer með gæða þróttur býr, þú ert hæða
skeinkur dýr. -
Ljósa heimi lát mig frá, leynda dóma
vita gegnum, streymi hugmynd há, himin, geim
og lönd ósmá. -
Fyrrtu álfa fylsni og ró, fældu draug
úr myrkri, lyptu þjálfa legu þró, láttu skjálfa
lönd og sjó. -
Láttu gína lagvopn öll, láði fjær við
hifin, láttu hvína lönd og fjöll, láttu sýnast
börnin tröll. -
þú sem getur þungan móð, þvingað burt
úr sinni, skemtan metur þú hjá þjóð, þú til
setur gleði ljóð, -
Ovidíum flemdan frá frelsi og Róma=
veldi, ljetztu svíun sorga fá, Síberíu strönd-
um á. -
Milton völdum færtan frá, fyrir rangar
sakir, huga köldum alinn á ama kvöldum varstu
hjá,
16, Fanga kör í hreldum hug, honum sjón
af máði, þó hamförum herti dug, himin fjör-
ugt þanká flug.
-
Hærsta Dýa hrós þú ber heimsins með-
al þjóða, veröld í — sem veiðagt er, — von
er því jeg treysti þjer. -
Við skulum sytja sóns við borð, sögu
brot að skoða, þar til nytja þarfleg orð, þaug
svo Ílytja' að heyrnar storð.
7
„19. Söguna gaf mjer „sióprúður seggur á
vesturlandi, áuðnu kalin Ólafar Ásgeirs Kafa=
Íausi bur.
-
Orma brúar apaldi, eg. þó mátti lofa,
heimska sú mig hriggspennti, henni snúa! í
ljóðmæli. -
Tregt þó gangi að laga ljóð lund fyrir
hafnar bríma, Drottins hanga horna flóð, hug-
ar stranga græði: móð, ð -
Meansönginn svo felum frá, fer að sag-
an höndum, sytji tvinna gætin gná, gauti
linnadýnu,; hjá.
23 Það ber fyrst að heyrnar hurð heimur-
inn stóð í- villu, trúar lista ljóss var þurð,
lengt fyrir Kristí hingað burð.
-
Mörgum Öldum eptir það, eins. á
heimi, unni göldum átrúnað ýta fjöld' um þanka
hlað. -
Sízt nam bleyði hindra hönd, hernað
grimmann fremja, til að sneiða auð og önd
öll um heiðin norðurlönd. -
Felldu bjóðir girtir gram, gótz og borg-
ir vunnu þar til blóðug hyrna hlam að hverfa
s
stóð í
móðup æska nam.
27. Tveggja flísum faldaðir, fjóri og sigri
8
hjeldu, "tiggja líkar Týr hraustir, tóku ríki
gamlaðir. 8
-
Austar í löndum einn sá var, árl' á forn-
öldinn, hvurr við göndla hríðarnar hrúgaði
söndum nöðrunnar. ; -
Linna sýkis lárviður lofðung Týrus mikli,
garpa líki geir vanur, Garðaríkis konungur. -
Hörðum fleyja frá sjer nam fleina hríð-
ar stormi, ellin beyja gjörti gram, en geymdi
megin sörla ham. -
Einka dóttir öðlings var, almennt köll-
uð Trana, mennta gnóttir mærin bar, með Í
þróttir kvennlegar. -
Engin skoða mátti mann, meyu dægi-
legri, björt með roða rósfarfann, rekkum boða
furðu vann. -
Óláns stundir óljósar, ólu? ei a
trega, sólar munda sólund þar, sólar fundin
líki var. -
Um þá storð var öllum kær, allar deyfði
sorgir menja skortin mjög frábær, meir enn
orðin karlmanns fær. -
Verður sjóla víkja frá versa daufa
rr Á
smíði, ; buðla kjóla baldri hjá bíti sélar elfu
gná.
-
Innir letur um þá tíð einn var sjóvík-
ingur, hjörfi fletur hraustan lýð, harða kvetur
þjóð í stríð. -
Töfra klerkur tröllaukinn tamur spjóta
hríðum, var berserkur brúnn á skinn, böls í
verkum útfarinn. -
Hann í branda hretviðrum — helzt við
sjón hverfingar — varð að Anda ófreskjum
og allrahanda kvikindum. -
Mót því hraki menskur par maður eng-
inn dugti, hörund nakið hjör ei skar hans á
baki krippa var. ! -
Kauðinn skæði Kolur því Kroppinbakur
nefndist, hans voru bræður hernum í, hvurr
nástæður fleina gný. -
Hjetu Björn og Hárekur, hvurr sem
tröll í slögum. eins að vörnum Ingjaldur ylgj-
„ar börnum þarflegur.
- Höfðu lengi á humra kór hjörfa sung-
ið messu, var svo engin orku stór á þeim fengi
kumlað bjór.
„48. Kolur eitt sinn illsku flár inn í Garða-
10
ríki. mörgum beitti mastra klár, með honum
þeytti herinn grár.
-
Týrus bjóða rómu rjeð rumurinn hrekkja
fulli, ella lóð og linna beð láta fljóði björtu
með. ð ; -
Kempan mikla þver tók því, þessum
sæta kjörum, hetju spriklar fjörið frí, færðust
hniklar brýrnar í. -
Gamalt hetju hjartað bar hugar prýði
næga, kauðum metur svoddan svar, segið: fret-
karls jafningjar. -
þá skal dauðinn af mjer önd út með
nauðum d:aga, fyrr' en auðar unga strönd, örg=
um kauta gefi! á hönd. -
Fær og aldrei heldur hann hót af riki
mínu, þó að gjaldi margur mann meðan jeg
valda sverði kann. -
Við ei bíða vísir má vildi og ekki held-
ur, fátt af lýð var honum hjá hrekkja níð að
yáðast á. -
Fleins í galdur fámennur fylkir út nam,
draga, var þó taldur tilsettur tíu faldur liðs-
munur.
$1. Vöktu skæðar valmeyar vigra dansinn
ll
harða, sig af klæða svertin þar saman æða
fylkingar.
-
Hafin genja granir smir, geirar sprengdu
hjálma líkt og venja var til fyrr, villtir grenja
berserkir. í -
Mikið stækkar mannfallið með aðgangi
þeirra, undrum hækkar eggja klið óðum fækk-
ar kongsins lið. 3 -
Menn þó stykkli fjöri frá; fleiri verður
nefna, 'Týrus mikli bistur brá benja lykli
snörpum þá. -
Hilmir framm sig hraustur bar hervík-
ingum móti, sólin hramma sárheit skar, sund-
ur glamma votirnar. -
Högga þundur hraustan beim hjó þar
margan sundar, fáir sungu frjettir heim frá
niflunga jaðar þeim. -
Furðu snar á feigtar grund felldi ótal
kauða svo brinþvara bærði mund, að brætur
varast kongsins fund.
58 þar til friði frá dæmda filkir kvistar líði,
að heim var riðin helvega, helft af liði víkinga.
- Hjörs við laman helbarður hans var
12
fallin líður stóð einsamall ósærður, enn þá
gamall mildingur.
- Ó þú gæfa, ó þú hel, örlaga nornir líka
gefið æfa unda þjel öðlings kræfa bíti vel!
61 Herin stranga furða fer, filkirs hreystin
mikla skjöldungs hanga skýmu ver skipuðu
fanga bræðurner. ;
-
Engin kom á öðling þó einu geira spori,
blóskra hvoma þanka þró, þá kvað voma kemp-
an hjó. -
Mörgum slengdi digrum drjól, dauðum
blóðs á mýri, sumra sprengdi heila hól, hina
dengdi buðla kjól. -
Síst var færi filkir á framan að engin
þorði, bak til nær eð bragnar gá, brandurinn
skæri rotar þá. -
Svo var móður — Sigmundar sala týru
— baldur, að róms á sjóði reykinn bar rjett
við slóðir Eyglóar.
66, Frá skal greina Kolur kvað, kong ei
vinnast mega, skjaldborg eina byggja bað buðl-
ungs meina hrakið það.
- Orkað fá ei þrælar því, þeingill óður
13
gjörðist, hjörinn bláa bar við ský, benja lá þar
"vóx á ný.
-
Þessi gjör af hilmis hönd hörðust þótti
kviða, hetjan snör með vigra vönd varði fjörið
sprund og lönd. -
Ekkert sár af brandi bar, blóð úr vit-
um dundi, fjell svo nár á fíla mar, filkir klára
sprungin var. -
Hátt við sungu sigur hljóð siklings ept=
ir dauða einn þriðjungur, uppi tin af marlunga
grimmu þjóð.
T1. Loks þá skæðum lokið var laufa hríðar
stormi, týrs með glæður glórauðar, gengu bræð-
ur til hallar.
-
Kongs hásæti settist í svefnir skjalda
Kolur, kong sig lætur. kalla því, en kong sinn
grætur þjóð ó frí. -
Hrikinn sækja sjer í vil sagði dóttur
tiggja strákar lækja ljóma bil leiddu klækja
brúsa til.
- Þþussinn snjallt við þorngrund tjer: þú
ert á valdi mínu, ríkið allt og orma skjer
einnig skaltu giptast mjer.
75, Ríkið á jeg — því ext þú þjófur gótz og
14
landa, — hrelld svo tjáir hringa brá heldur
fá mig skalt ei nú.
-
Ilöggvinn segir hyrju ver hjerna skalltu
verða neitir eigin orði mjer, jeg verð feiginn víí-
ið tjer. -
Ormi klóta bófinn brá brúðar höfuð yfir,
gekk á móti geirnum blá, göfug snót og brosti
þá. -
Svoddan greina samdi prífs, silki reyna
blómi: þettað eina þjer af kýs, það er meina
bótin. vís. -
Ósa funa Eigló hann, aptraði sjer að
höggva, girndar bruna frekan fann fyrirmuna
slíkt er vann. -
Svo, var færð í fangelsi foldin mundar
ljóma, nakin-særð af sorglindi, svikin ærð og
þeinkjandi. -
Ó þú mæta Mínerva minnstu á fljóð
í nauðum, sorg þó græti sansana sítar kæti
Fortúna. -
Fyrst jeg má ei frelsa sprund, fegin þó
að vildi, legg jeg frá mjer litla stund ljóðaskrá
og tek svo blund.
'
15
-
ABíma.
Mansöngurinn. -
Káttu mig ei lengi: sofa ljóða gyðja,
virztu hug.og sansa seðja, söngum þeim er
fræða' og gleðja. -
Sofnaður jeg sældar naut af svanna völd-
um, hún ljósbláu lypti tjaldi, ljómandi frá einu
spjaldi. -
Landkort sá jeg löguð þar með list. og
prýti, fyrirsögnin fleirst í kvæðum, enn farfin
mest af temsar glæðum, -
Veröldin mjer virtist öll á vænu spjaldi,
máluð þegar ár var alda, áður en muna brjót=
ar skjalda, -
Bera tók jeg heima höf og hauðrin grænu
menta þar í mestu vonum, móti ng landkort-
onum. -
Öll voru kortin öðruvísi nkkán daga,
nokkuð aðra vikið vega vantaði sumt og gjör-
samlega. -
Hvað mun varða hyarlaði mjer í hugar.
skímu, höfin vötn og grundir geyma getur
ekkert staðið heima. -
Er þá lygi allt sem hinir eldri skráðu,
heims um frægð og forna siði, frónin, höf og
töfrasmiði. -
Eða mun það. allt sannleikur eiga reynast,
nú á öldum er fram tínist, eptir því. sem hverj=
um sýnist,
16
- Minnar aldar menta vinir meina' jeg segi,
hvað yfir þeirra þekking stígi það sje tóm og
einber lygi.
Ll. Trúa þeir að sálar sjón og sannleik
fangi, vísdóms heldur anda enginn utan mað=
ur skóla gengin.
-
Hvurr mun burt frá huga, mínum hrinda
villu skal jeg þá um æfi alla, ekkert meiga
sannleik kalla? -
Skal jeg sælli sóa tíð, með svoddan vafa
og allar stundir í mig sofa, ólæknandi sál-
ar dofa? -
Á jeg að særa álfa, tröll og illa vætti,
og fjanda kyn úr öllum áttum, úr að rífa sann=
leiks gáttum. -
Nei nei jeg skal nokkuð annað nú af
ráða, dýa sala dýsir gæða drjúgum biðja mig
að fræða.
16 Löngum þær mig leiddu sannleiks ljósa
götu, fram til þess jeg vildi vita, þó vantati
stundum spón og bita.
-
þarflegt margt hjá þeim jeg fjekk, án
þungra kaupa, úr mennta brunni mynnis djúpa
meira vert en bíta og súpa. -
Sem jeg þannig þeinkti', og bað mjer
þaut að eyrum, gustur hlýr með hægum svör=
um, hreint sem töluð orð frá vörum. -
Röddin þessi mýkti móð í muna veldi,
því hún bauð af mestu mildi, mætti spyrja
hvurs jeg vildi, 2
if
-
Upplýsingar þorsti þrengdi þurru brjósti
sýndist mjer ei svörin bristi, svölun fyrir
þögn jeg missti. -
Fyrst því spurði jeg fornaldar um frægða
siti, hreysti nægð og hugarpryði, hvarju nú
ci lærðir tríði. -
Svarið lýsti, sannlega hefði seggja forð-
um, afreksverkin hreysti hörðu hrósað sjer á
vorri jörðu. -
Og nú ei fyndist fyrri manna frægð og
hreysti, utan hvað með lægi og listum, lýðir
bætti? úr þrótti misstum. -
Feikna múrin, förna hreysti frekt á bend-
ir, traust af byggður týrum branda, Tartara
milli og Kínalanda. -
Af ógna björgum hlaðinu hárr og harla
breiður og löggildri mæling meður mílur þris-
var hundruð tjeður,
26, Kínesanna ártals er það upphafs tími,
þá múrinn stóð á merkja geymi mesta furðu-
verk í heimi.
-
Mörgum hundrað árum áður Adam lifði,
þeirra datum þá út krefði þessi múrir:n byggst
að hefði. -
Fyrri tíða frægð og hreysti furðu stóra,
þjer að sjónum braut má bera berserkja um
hraunið þvera. -
Af þessu sjest — og fleira — forna
fyrða hreysti, hugur og þrek í hjörva gjósti,
hræðslan færstum sat í brjósti.
2
18
-
Sfðan blundi brá jeg fljótt og brunna
mána rankar við hvar eygló uni, ei þó glöð í
skapi muni. -
Hvurn dag skjökti Kolur samt á kæra
fundin, ámálgandi ektabandið, af svo ljetti fanga
standið.
„82. Afsvör tóm og ill orð fjekk hann æ hjá
svanna, fyrr kvaðst tapa önd en unna æru=
lausum töfra klunna.
- Sá þá Kolur „sín viðleitni sízt má duga,
fór því til á fleiri vega fljóð að veiða kænsku=
lega.
-
Morgun einn — þá döglings dóttir dúr-
um sætti — Kolur þangað fertum flýtti, frúnni
við með tánum ítti, -
Stökk á fætur storðarlinda stjörnu þrúð-
ur, henni sýndist hýr og glaður hjá sjer Á
fríður maður. -
Til hans mælti Temsar funa tróðan
bjarta: seig oss hvur, og hvaðan ertu og hvar
til hingað farin sjertu ?
37, Svarar kvendi svikabólginn synda ham-
19
ut! þig skal frelsa' af valdi voma, vil jeg þjer
úr haldi koma.
-
Föður þíns jeg virur var, og vil því
halda, sömu tryggð við meyju milda, mín skal
það óhvikul skylda. -
Horn eitt rjetti hrings að bil svo hress-
ast næti, hún með þökkum þyggja rjeti, þenná
drykk, er skipti geði. -
Eptir það hún varð sem villt í versta
svíma, þekkti hvurki grund nje geyma, glugga
hjera sprund nje beyma. -
Ummynduðum aula þeim hún ást á festi,
köldum burt svo kastar þjósti, kveiktur hir í
meyjar brjósti. -
Loks hann færti lauka skorð í loptsal
háann, kongleg var þar hvíla búin, hvar Í
bæði stigu lúin. -
Yndis fundur ama dreif þeim út úr huga,
fetaði viljin fornu laga, feril þann sem öngvir
klaga
44, Þrjár um nætur nærðu' í Kjáðn nátt-
runa, morgun fjórða — móins dínu mörkin —
"lá í rúmi sínu.
-
- Frá sofandi hlaupið hafði a dóttir
20
töfra þór á trónin settist, tignarskrútinn búki
mettist.
-
Sínum bræfrum sagði frá að sigruð væri,
tiggja dóttir Trana kæra, til sín skipar hana
færa. -
Framvegis hún frelsuð skal af fyrirlitn-
ing, úthrópuð með ærulotning, einka Garðarík-
is drottning. -
Með því hrópi hún var færð í höllu sjóla,
öll nú brögðin vissi vjela, villu horfin gjör-
völl hjela. -
Í hásæti sett hún var hjá sjóla blokkum,
brúðkaup skildi? um daginn drekka, drótt og
gleddi mjöðinn þekka. -
Svara fá var baugabil með brosi köldu,
ánægða því hana hjeldu, hraustir runnar mána
keldu. -
Óskaði þess ef ekta skildi? hún argan
glanna, mætti áður fallinn finna, föður sinn og
umbúð vinna. -
Gamli Kolur gaf til já, hún gilfa mætti
líki þjóna, þá sem hlýtti, þó sjer ofboðslega
flýtti. -
því nam lofa þrims kveólinga þægust
21
lilja, fjórar þernur vann sjer velja, voru þær
eporin sízt að telja.
-
Hlupu þær, og hilmir fundu helju vafinn,
dóttur hara hryggð að svífur, hjálminn samt
af karli þrýfur. -
Sjer á höfuð setti þann, og síðan dreg=
ur af honum .brinju alblóðuga, í hana klædd-
ist fljóð einhuga. -
þernur vildu sverði svipta sjóla látinn,
þær með orku þar við sátu, þó ei fingrum
bifað gátu. -
það fyrir Trönu lá sem laust, í lofð-
ungs mundu, snótin þá með hraustri hendi
hampaði björtum sáravendi. -
Kvendin hlupu" af hræðslu burt þá hild-
ar skrúti, vafða sáu hringa heiði, hún var og
svo bólgin reiði. -
Sýndist þeim að Týrus tiggi týrs í skrúða,
vígs á rauðum velli stæði, vörgum til að britja
fæði. í -
Frekt sú meining fljóðum herti flótta
ganginn, að hilmir fylgdi hörku fenginn — her=
klæðonum — aptur genginn. -
Sín í hvurja sundrung hlupu seljur tvinna
22
hvar sem fundu hal eta svanna, hermdu býsn-
ir títindanna.
-
Út um landið flaug sú fregn að falda-
sunna, herklædd væri að vænta manna, vísirs
bana til hefndanna. -
Hópum saman hundruð mörg af hjeraðs
lýðum, hlupu' af stað í högna skrúði hjálpa
vildu silki þrúði. -
Jafnframt þessu þengils dóttir þarf á
minnast, hryggð er fann í geði grennast, greip=
ar ljet að hjöltum spennast.: -
það var sverðið þrifja bezta þekkt í
heimi, menn nm hjálminn sögðu sama, sízt
hann kunnu vopn að læma. -
Þþríföld hringabrynjan blá þó bar af öll-
um herklæðum — sem heimur karlinn hafði
til — unz liggur fallinn. -
þessum brúðar hulin ham til hallar
vendi, mærin stygg Í „muna landi} mundum
hampar nöktum brandi. -
Við það hnikti víkingsþjóð að veiga lína,
hljóp þar inn í hertfonum, hræðileg — þó
framar vonum —.
69, Rengdu dólgar sjálfa sig hvurt seljan
Í
23
bringa, eða Týrus apturganga, átta seldi runn-
am spanga.
-
Kolur skipar frændum fletta fljóðið vopn=
um, hún framm vóð með voðasvipnum, vom-
um að og brandi gripnum. -
Hjörin ball á haus Ingjaldar hvurr sem
fylgdi, dauðrotaðar datt á veldi, dólgur sá að
æfi kveldi. -
Æðru Kolur kenndi sízt í króggum
neinum, eins og nú þó ofbauð honum ógn er
stóð af herklæðonum. -
Líka kom nú heim til hallar her af landi,
mildings dóitur með áð standa muggu þar af
sirti randa. -
Sá nú Kolur sízt hann mundi sæll har
vera, kallar því á kauða skara, kembings út
á heiðar fara. -
Ranga dýrum ríðu þeir á rostungs tanga,
hernað grimman háðu lengi, hvar sem fundu
drápu mengi. -
Allt að hausti unda ljá þeir ekki spara,
um Helsinga hafið stóra hertu freka styrjar óra.
(71. Að vori næsta vildi Kolur vitja Garða
í snörpu eli sverða unnið skyldi ríkið verða.
24
-
Um frænings bana fenhrings linda fák-
um áði „Kroppinbakur grár í geti greina þarf
að fleira skeði. -
Í þann tíma, tyggi vopna tamur fundi,
Hrómundur með hefðar standi, Háloga — fræg-
ur stýrði — landi. -
Hjaranda- son Herrautur var hilmis fað=
ir, en drottning hans hin dyggta fjáða, dóttir
Högna sinnis- bráta. -
Hrómund sjóla siðug drottning son einn
kenndi, Herfinnur sem heita mundi, harðfeng-
ur á vopnafundi. -
Sem Herfinnur átján aldurs árum náti,
móður hans frá heimsins gleði Helja drottn-
ing til sín rjeði. -
Kongur syrgði veigávör sem var hans
yndi, ríkisstjórn því ei við undi, út í hernað
„ðraga mundi. -
Frægsta liði safnar sjer á siglu fáka
Herfinnur með honum líka hjelt í veður þund-
ar flíka. -
Hnísu veldi víða tráðu vargar húna,
hrausta feildi herkongana, Hrómundur að forn-
um vána,
25
- Öðling fór um Eystrasaltið ör dverðt sum= ,
ar sama og Kolur safnar beimum, Svíþjóð af
og Jötunheimum.
ST. Fjölda liðs og fíla sjós af fleiri láðum,
saman heimti jötna jaðar japa, saums Í orðu
raðar.
-
Til Hólmgarða hyrju kundur hugði fara,
vakurt öldur veifa stíri, voðir þandi blossa hlíri. -
Á firði nokkrum fólar áðu fýlum húna
herskip átján að þeim bruna, ötuð rauðum
temsar funa.
90 Skamt frá risa flota felldu fagra refla,
Kolur þær í ærnum afla ætlaði sigur mundum
krafla.
-
því nam spyrja þá nýkomnu þunda
hringa, hvurr þar rjeði hindum ranga, hann
sig skildi gefa fanga -
Ungur maður mikill stóð á mastra hjera,
„Kroppinbaki sá nam svara, svo það mundi
trauðla fara. -
Drykkur ása dvínar nú á dalii góma,
meðan aptur sígur saman, sættast má við
dúra gaman.
#26
-
Ríma.
Mansöngurinn. -
Svaf jeg fyrr og sofnaði! enn, sansa
dyrum viti menn uppljúkandi ein var mynd
alskínandi stúlku kind. -
þessi marar mána rein menta var af gyðj-
um ein, kosta ber ókljenan skamt, kunnug
mjer — að góðu samt —. -
þar tyrir byrja þorði jeg tal, því nam
spyrja snóta val, hvurt álögum og forspá, jeg
af sögum trúa má. -
þar til gefa svar nam sú, svoddan efa
skalt ei þú: sumra orðum espað geð auka forð-
um krapta rjeð. E -
Um mælinn sjer áttu stað, á lög sumir
kalla það, fyrr á tíðum fremur en nú, fylgdi
lííum gáfa sú. -
Kristnum eins. og heiðnum hjá, hefur
fundist kraptur sá, Biblían fram bíður sig, ef
bragnar annars rengja míg, -
Gamli Nói gremjast vann geimdi þó ei
"vondan mann, síst vel þekkta lægði lund lagði
„frekt á sonar kund. -
Hvurt á kvæðinn íll eða góð, eru bræði
sorg eða ljóð, finni þau allan orða stað, álög
kalla máttu það. -
Gömlu daga draumspekin, og dular haga
forspáin, er með ritum eldri skreitt, af því
vitum lítið eitt,
I
27
10.. þrátt fyrir manna þvættingin, þetta
sannar Ritningin, umþeinkingar breitt um beð
bevísingar þarf ei með.
lt. Síðan færti' jeg samtal í, sumir lærðir
neita því, að hefti galdurs hrekkja spil, heims
um aldur verið til.
-
Ekki seiður eða par, er til reiðu kukl-
arar, höfðu í Púkans hræringum, helzt með
brúkað særingum. -
Hraðast mætti mjer það svar, minnstu
á hætti fornaldar þá var trúað eitthvað á, ekk-
ert nú sem heita má. -
allstaðar um austur heim, ærið bar á
listum þeim, heims um aldur öndverðann, er
þá galdur nefnast vann. -
Kongur einn frá Asía, ekki seinn til val=
þinga, ljet helböndinn nísta ná, Norðurlöndin
inntók sá. -
Frægð margfalda fylkir bar, fleirstu
galdra listirnar, kænn að bjóða kukl og seim,
kendi þjóð um norður heim.
17 Númi Róma ræsir var reifður sóma hreist=
innar, menta þyrstur lífs á leið líðum fyrstur
kjendi seið.
-
Egipsk þorði öld ó tvist, ebla forðum
töfralist, þar um einatt þjótin "les; það nam
reina Móises. -
Töfra konan Endor í, ei er von að
gleimist því, eins má ríma á reitinn þann, ram=
ann Símon galdra mann.
28
-
Meir um galið galdra par, greinir tala
Ritningar, en þau brögð við ætri trú, af eru
lögð að mestu nú. -
það og skreitni eingin er, illa breitni
tamdi sjer, þjóðin trillt við galdra gróm, grimm
og villt af heiðindóm. -
Ykjur vitum allmargar, eru Í ritum forn=
aldar enn hins vegar eins á statt, það ótrú-
lega margt er satt.
-
þar um fleira þarf ei tjá, þjóð vill
heyra nú hvað sá, ungi maður abls með þol,
orðahraður svarar Kol. -
Hetju líki Hrómundur, Háloga ríkis
konungur, elda rírir — þolla þunds, þessum
stýrir fákum hlunns. -
Döglingur við dreira hrun, dírastur þjer
fangi mun, fól við aldrei fundum slíkt, er Er lelB-
ir skjalda bauð þvílíkt. -
Jeg hans arfi el þann grun, að Se
sá þig mun, skamma lífið skilja við, ef skjóma
drífu reynið þið. -
Seig þú hrafn svart heljar svín, hvurt
„er nafn og maktin þín, Kolur heit? jeg hrikin
tjer, hvergi veit jeg jafnan mjer.
29
-
Eru merkin ekki fá, afreks verkin mín
að tjá, Garða veldi ná því nam, nýlega felldi?
jeg Týrus gram. -
Sem Hrómundur heira vann, hyrju kund-
ur deiddi þann er of þjótir orku bar, og fóst=
bróður Herrautar.
30 Svo við risan tiggi tjer, tíðin slisa byrj-
ist þjer, hvar þú stælir þundar þröst, þau um-
mæli standi föst.
- Börvum hringa mein sje misst, mis=
sínging og töfra list, öll skal numinn eins
frá þjer; aulinn hrumi trúðu mjer.
32 Fleiri áhríns orðin ströng öðling þá með
krapti söng, risan óa við því vann, varma sló
þá út um hann.
-
Síðan friði sviptu þar, sig að liði beggja
var, hjörs Í skæðan hríðar = bil, helja læðast
fór um þil. -
Heldur trosnar hlífin grá, hausar losna
búkum frá, hvar við unda elfan, rauð, á dró-
munda vöngum sauð. -
Voru stærri hnísu hvamms, hálfu færri
jórar grams, menn til krafði kífs ó seinn, Kol-
ur hafði þrjá um einn.
30
36, þá var óp og eggjan hörð, ei af hópi
beggja spörð, blikaði — sala Sigmundar, sól —
á vala brautum þar.
-
Heljar önn ei færði frið, fjell þá hrönn-
um beggja lið, búka hráu hrönnin fal, hrotin
láu skip ótal. -
Hilmir skálma herti jel, hildar-sálma
kvað svo vel, að hrika-lið við högg ómjúk, hrundi
niður líkt og fjúk.
39, Grams son fróna fylgdi vörð, fór sem
ljón í sauðahjörð, kauðum anda elti frá, eng=
in standast feðga má.
- Niður kynja kvistar lið, Kolur skynjar
mannfallíð, að stál-gráum hilmirs her, hamað-
ist þá og bræðurnir.
"41. Gekk svo lengi greira þrá, gilfa mengi
fallið lá, hrikar smurðu hlífa-tröll, hroðin urðu
skipin öll.
- Enn þó hari hjörs við dans, hjelt og
rari mögur hans, — öld þó mótug missti
fjör — megin þjóð á sínum knör.
- Öllu megin öld ósmá, öðlings fleygið
rjeðist á, vondar hittu viðtökur, vel er styttu
kvöldvökur.
si
- T þeirri svipan Kolur knár, kongs á skipa
ið hlýfa fárr, gekk með eigin ýta fans, öðru“
megin bræður hans,
-45. Trölldóm skaptir týndu ró, töfrakrapti
sneiddir þó, ramir gættu grimindar þols, gram-
ur mætti bræðrum Kols.
-
Móti báðum hristi hjör, hilmir láða kænn
við dör, hamatur æddi hárs með glóð, en hlýrar
klæddust jötunmóð. -
Heldur særast vísir vann, vomar ærast
kringum hann, í þeim braut hann bein ósmá,
bits ei naut á skrokka þá. -
Brotnir armar ekki þá, arga barma stoð=
að fá, undan höggum Hrómundar, hlupu snöggv=
ast þeir í mar. -
Hrepptu svefn í söltam leir, sagan nefn=
ir þá ei meir, það fór betur þá ei rak, þó
um getur Kroppinbak. -
Meðan gramur greirs í þrá, gaura lam=
að hafði þá, hugatur við björfa- rót, Her=
finnur gekk Koli mót. -
Af risans höggum hara son hafði? á
snöggum dauða von, svo nam haga sóknum þó,
sjerhurt lag hann af sjer bjó.
32
-
Risann furðar fimleik þann, frekt þó
burta neita vann, særði“ ei heldur svelnir
par, sigtýrs eldur gramsonar. -
Leiddist þófið þussa kund, því vill prófa
sterka mund, kastaði greipum kvernbýt frá,
kongsson hleypur bráðast á. -
Upp nam vega vísis bur, voðalega harð-
fengur, lund að beigði lasta sið, úr lopti
fleygði" á höfuðið. -
Öðlingsson í óvit leið, aulinn honum
vildi deyð skjótan fá og skjóman þreif, að
skera frá onum hjarnarkleyí. 3; -
það var sömu svipan Í, sem að lömuð
hrekkja þý, höggum undan Heísengjiir hlupu
af sunda-jór Í mar. -
Hilmir lítur hníginn kund, hryggðin
býtur grimma lund, Koli veður aptan að, unda
meður reiddan nað. -
Stýrir beyma hraustur hjó höndum tveim,
og lítt af dróg, hrikans þvera hrygginn á,
heldr en glerið beit ei þá. -
Tví brotnaði tyrfingur, tröllhamaði ber-
serkur, snýst að tyggja meltur móð, metur
yggjar kinnta glóð,
33
-
Höggið undir Hrómundur hljóp, en stundi
víkingur, nær aflströngum hara þar, hnúa töng-
um spenntur var. -
Sú ei lengi svipting stóð, sjóli slengdi
trilltum skrjóð eins og rakka ringlutum, rjett
á hnakkan aflöngum. -
Kolur vildi komast á fót, kreisti mild-
ing fast að þrjót, hruflaður um höfuðið. Her
finnur þá raknar við. -
Svo við kundinn sjóli kvað, sannlega
mundi? jeg kjósa það, vits ef náir vænum feng,
vildir fá mjer nýan streng. -
þetta vinnur þengils bur, þó að sinni
ringlaður, hari mælir harðskiptinn hengjum
þrælinn arfi minn. á -
Svo rúm snara Kols, um keyrð kverk þá
var, og fast að reyrð, sinn í enda hjelt þá
hverr, og hart um venda bak á sjer. -
Kolur tók að kirkjast þá, kongssyni jók
það föll ósmá, en harðfengur við hjörfa-sarg,
Hrómundur sat eins ög bjarg. -
þussans fjörbrot þeyi smá, þengils knör
svo lamað fá, að ei varð sjófær eptir það, urn-
ir bjó sig heiman að.
3
34
-
Brenndu drengir Kol með knör, kongur
mengi bauð þá fjör, lið allt gekk þá hans á
hönd, hrúgum fjekk sá orma= strönd. -
Herfang undra fólk og fley, fyrðar mundu
þvílíkt ei, sem stórhæfa sjóla þeim, sigur og
gæfa færðu heim. -
Lyptir sprota lætur þann leysa flota gjör=
vallann, mettur seym þá stríð var stytt, stýrði
heim í ríki sitt.
T1. Feðgar sátu fyrst um kyrrt, ferð svo mát-
ar sagan styrt, Garða-ríkja greina spil greið=
ast víkja hlýtur til.
-
Við kongdómi Trana tók, tign og sómi
veldið jók, stýrði lýð og löndum þar, lofnin
fríða guðvefjar. -
Nokkuð skrýtið vitnast vann, víf dálítið
smásamann, undir belti þykknar þá, það framm
hjelt svo mun á sá.
TA: Margrætt var um maga-hnjúk, mærin
þar til hríða sjúk, loksins fæddi ljótan bur, lýð
sem hræddi biksvartur.
- Gamla Kol var kenndur þá krakki stola-
legur sá, mengið bað hann hylti hel, henni það
ei líkar vel.
35
-
Kolur nefndist krappi hann kosta fremd
er nauma fann, óma röðuls apaldur, ei varð
föðurbetringur. -
þegar sá var þrevetur, þeygi smái risa-
bur, trega svipt og töfra- fans Trana giptist
móðir hans. -
Son Hrómundar Herfinnur hringagrund
var fastnaður, mána sýkja gnægð að gekk
Garðaríkja kongdóm fjekk. -
Ástin græddi gæfu von, gilfa fæddi Trana
son,, Framarr ljetu heita hann, hyggjusetur
gleðjast vann. -
Ærið fríður ásýndar, eins af lýðum
þroska bar, hreysti-slingur hjörs við þrá, hans
jafningi fannst ei þá. -
Vinsæll, þægur virðum hjá, varð nafn=
frægur kappi sá, en karga lund og klækja-
fans, Kolur stundar bróðir hans. -
Upp ólust við íþróttir, ólíkustu frænd-
urnir; Framar öllu frægri var, frekum trölldóm
Kolssonar. -
þegar hjeldu í hernað þeir hnikars elda
funnar tveir, áttu? ei lundar saman sið, sverða
fundar hríðar við. E
36
-
Hlýrar skildu hernað sinn, hrekkja fyllti
vomurinn, Kolur brátt um hnísu hlað, bafs til
átta um suður tfrað. -
Jók Ólinan járna dans, jötna kyn og
trölla fans, valdi sjer um veðra-kór, vondsku
ber því trillast fór. -
Aldrei kom að Garða grund, gramur
- voma flár í lund, sinnti betur sverða þrá, sum-
ur og vetur úti lá.
-
Ýmsum gat hann aukið kíf, ætíð sat
um Framars líf, en þegar fundur þeirra var,
þengils kundur af honum bar. -
Sízt þó fylgði sönn umbót, samt ei vlidi
drepa þrjót; flaug háreist um frón og mar,
fregn af hreysti gramsonar.
„89. Gram rjeð vinna gótz og lönd, gæddur
linna fagri strönd, varg ólatur hressing hjó,
heima sat á vetrum þó.
-
Eitt sinn hann sem optar þá, ýgultanna
voga brá, hernað í með fyrða fans, fyrst um
hlýu vortímans. -
Hann má vigra herða, sköll, hann má
sigra menn og tröll fyrir mjer; því lúalig let=
in er að svæfa mig.
37
-
Ríma.
Mansöngurinn. -
Næturstundin lætur lund, lífsins værðum
sinna, vísdómgs háa hugmynd þá, helzt mun
kyrðin finna. -
Skvaldur, mas og vinnu-vas, værðin nær
af tekur, margt kann þá að mega sjá, er minni
og sansa vekur. -
Svo fór nú að sólbjört frú, sókti að mjer
í hvílu, fögur sýn hún Músa mín, mirkra lypti
skílu. -
Frjett' jeg sprund hvurt svæðissund sjór
inn, fjöll og grundir, hvurt allt sje, frá upp-
hafi, eins og nú um stundir.
ð. Svaraði snót með hýrleg hót: hugur eng-
inn skilur umbrot hörð, á okkar jörð, sem ára-
fjöldinn hylur.
- Umbreyting, sú ekki ring, af eldi, sjó
og vötnum, trúleg sízt mun verða víst, vorra
tíða skötnum.
T. Fjallaskörð og hraunin hörð, hryggir og
gilin stóru, jöklar, gjár og ótal ár, ekki forð-
um vóru.
-
Eldhöf stór og einnig sjór, í yðrum jarð-
ar blindum, hittast vann og fyrir sjer fann
feykn af lopti og vindum. -
Gjörði um allt hið súra salt, þá samein-
abist hinu, Ólgaði, sauð og ógnir bauð, afli >
með ólinu.
38
-
Ytaði jörð við ósköp hörð. af gansboga
fyrsta, hófust fjöl!, þó brafótt öll; hörmuðu
prýði missta. -
Sprakk í sundur grjót og grund, geysi
hristing viður, dresvarps— þá svo — drósó
smá, dalaði víða niður. -
Eldhöf ströng sjer gjörðu göng, gil og
dali að mynda, beljaði, sauð hvur renna rauð,
og reystu fjalla tinda. -
Bættist þá þar ofan á, ógnir vatnsflóð-
anna, hvar við dulin hafi hulin, hárs varð
bauga nanna. -
Mirkur og flóð svo földu lóð, feyknalang-
ar tíðir, unz við þjót sem leðja ljót, .yptist
upp um síðir. -
Stormur sá, er steyptist á storð í fæð-
ingunni, ofsalegt með aflið frekt, orkan nefn-
ast kunni. -
Veðrin hörð svo hristu jörð, að höfin
myndast fóru, því leðjan grófst, en leirinn
skófst, lyptust fjöllin stóru. -
Enginn mann um Orkan þann, orð eða
þanka smíðar, slíkur einn gafst og svo neinn
aldrei fyrr nje síðar. -
Almættið þá verkan við, vötn og lönd
að skyldi, hnattar skeið svo lagti leið, að lög-
„um þýngðar fylgði.
- Saman rann og festu fann, frumefnanna
hagur, þróttar smár í þúsund ár, þa var hinn
fyrsti dagur.
;
39
-
Af óþekktum efnum frekt, úr þeim fyrra
heimi, málma fjöld hin yngri öld, ynni er hul-
in geymi -
Eldurinn það fjekk umskapað, allt við
fjöldann tíða, eins gullsand og surtarbrand, er
sjezt í fjöllum víða.
99, Mannkyn eitt var ekki neitt, auðs þá
forgekk rúna, um það bil eða áður til, eins
og það er núna.
-
Umbrot hörð hin yngri jörð allmörg hreppti
síðar, hvar um fá skalt keyra þá, hróður,
nærsta smíðar. -
Austraskeið, þar áður beið, er hann
Framar lagði, hernað í, á hvala bý hlífa gyrt-
ur flagði.
25, Happa nægð svo hlaut og frægð, hjör þá
gól á röndum, drakons ey, sem fólk og fley
fjekk af ýmsum löndum.
-
Allstaðar, það: orðtak var, ósigrandi
mundi, margur kappi hjelt það happ, hilmirs
þjóna kundi. -
Sumarið allt, um Eystrasalt aflaði fjár
með! brandi, að hausti þó, af hnísu-mó hjelt
að Grautalandi. -
Ilöfnum náðu hermt við láð, hestar
40
byrtings - túna, gengu' á landið gyrtir brand,
grábaks runnár dúna.
-
Reysti tjöld hin trausta öld, tyggja nærri
garði, blikuðu jós og leyptur sjós, lofðung
þar á:starði. -
Valdi hjet, sá löngum ljet laufann skipta
röndum, hans var frægð og hreysti nægð, haf-
in ofar löndum. -
Tólf af drótt, bað tyggi fljótt tjalda
finna mengi, og vita fá, hvurr úðar — á — ess-
in, föst við strengi. -
Og ef sá vill hernað há, honum skuluð
kynna, vjer með brand, að verja land, vogum
þá að finna. -
Enn ef frið, og sóma sið, sá vill held-
ur kjósa, bjóðið heim, með sveit og seym
sendir óma ljósa. -
Friðar kjör, með sóma svör, sendir bragn-
ar fengu, heim því greiðast lögðu leið, lofð-
ung fyrir gengu. -
þegar veit, hvurr þar með sveit þeng-
ill komin mundi, furðar hann og fagna vann
Írægum hara kundi. -
Kongs í sal, með kappa val kveðju
41
Framarr vekur, veizlu neyt og vínin heit, virða
gleðja tekur.
-
Framarr kvað, mig fýsir að fá hjer dvöl
í vetur, það skal vera, þengill tjer: þjer ef
líkar betur. J -
Öðlings fljóð var artar góð, ömun geðs
að varna, áttu þau, við ástar-spaug, eina dótt-
ir barna. -
Afbragðs fríð, var auðarhlíð, Ingibjörg
að nafni, listum gædd og láni klædd, ljúf í
mennta safni. -
Höll í tyggja falda frygg, fögur tíðum
dvaldi, en lofðungs nið, að hægri hlið, hafði
gramur Valdi. -
Einhvurn dag, sem yndishag, öld í sal
man þyggja, hilmirsson, í hamingju von, hóf
svo mál við tyggja: -
Yðar jóð, það eina fljóð, ást mjer kveik
ir megna og hefi því lyst, að heyra fgrst,
hvurju munduð gesna? -
Ef falaði blíða, hrínga hlýð, að hilmi
Gauta láða og fengi snót. með hefðar hót, horfði
flest til náða. -
Sjóli.tjer: það auðsætt er, öðlings frægi
42
niður, engum vilda'g hrínga hildi, heldur gefa
en yður.
-
Er því ver, þat ekki fer eptir mínum
vilja, herma má jeg hreint þar frá, hrings er
föstnuð þilja. -
Sturlögur — sem — starfsamur, stund-
ar hreysti sanna, gekk á hólm fyrir bauga-
bólm, og banaði trylltum glanna. -
Einvíg bauð, sá elfði nauð, ef ei snót-
ar fengi, var ei neinn, það vogaði einn vors
af ríkis mengi. -
Kolur hjet, sá kappinn ljet krjúpa hels
að ynni, þeim var hreint, ea hvergi leynt, heit-
ið dóttur minni. -
Brúðkaups öl og veizlu völ, virðar fá að
kanna, vetrar tíð, þá styttir stríð, Sturlögur
vitjar svanna. -
Sló í þögn, við þessa sögn, þengils
frægum kundi, nærri sjer sem honum bjer
höggvið þykja mundi. -
Hóf svo tal við hölda val, hefndar þarf
að leyta, ella jeg á engan veg ærlegur skal
heita.
; 52. Hverjum finna sóma sinn, sýna daga
;
43
bæri, skyldur mjer, var málma grjer, mjög þó
leiður væri.
-
Sturlögi býð jeg branda hrýð, benja gyrt-
um flagði, einvígs til í branda bil buðlung fátt
til lagði. -
Eptir þaé, frá öðlings stað, ýta Framar
sendi Sturlögs til í stála bil, að stefna di
bendi. -
Andsvör fljót, gaf sendri sjót, sækir hafn-
ar brýma, Framar við í fleina klið, fús er jeg að
stýma. -
Jeg kem glaður óhindraður, á tilsettum
degi, hólminn á, þar hníginn lá, brykinn Kol-
ur fegi.
57, Hjet Vefreya hrínga ey, hyggin geðs
um slóðir, samt margfróð og sínum góð, sú
var Sturlögs móðir. |
-
Eptir tal, við ýta val, örfa baldur svinni,
erindið greint þá hermdi hreint, henni móður
sinni. -
Grund kvað seyma, sit þú heima, og
sæktu' ei hjörfa messu, stríddu ei við þann
stillirs níð, Sturlögur neytar þessu.
60, Hún þá tjer, ef hugsar þjer hilmis fella
44
niðja, eitthvað má, þig annað þá, enn eintómt
kappið styðja.
-
Vísis bur,;er vopnfimur, vanur björfa-
sköllum, furðu snar um frón og mar, frægri
kempum öllum. -
Aldrei þú, munt eins og nú, orku reynd-
ur verða, þó að dug og hermannshug, hafyrðu
allt samferða. -
Skyrtuna góðu — glansa móðu geym-
ir, — skaltu nýta, hjörs á fund, við hara-
kund, hana járn ei býta. -
Mitt er verk á mætum serk, mundu' jeg
gaf þjer hana. örgum Kol með orku þol, áð-
ur en veittir bana. -
Sú kom tíð að hrotta hríð, hetjur áttu
kanna, Sturlögs til með tryggða skil, talaði
bauga - nanna. -
Væn áhöld, sem hjálm og skjöld, hafðu
og brynju sterka, bezta sverð og flest í ferð,
föng til hildarverka. -
Höndum fór, „um hjörfa- þór, heféar
svanni víkur, hneit þar við, tjer hún þá lið,
hnjesins vinstra stríkur. á -
Hetjan rökk, á hestinn stökk, hólms að
45
flöt um grundir, vakurt rann og F;amar fann
fögrum vopnum undir
-
Kveðja stutt, var köld framflutt, kvurr
þar vísar öðrum heljar til, en hrugnis þil,
hlýfa börðu nötrum. -
Valdi sjóli, veiga sól, og valið borgar-
mengi, stóð á múr að stála skúr stærstann
litið fengi. -
Mjög við brá, það mátti sjá, mildings
kundar vinum, að Sturlögur var, á stöðli þar
stór sem tröll hjá hinum. -
Börðust fast, en brandur gnast, blinds í
tjalda voðum, hjálmar sprungu, högg á sungu
hrugners ylja gnoðum. -
Buðlung tjer: þá seggja sjer, sverðin
brynjur fegra, engin fá mun öld að sjá, ein-
víg hermannlegra. -
Hetjur þær, á hólmi tvær, bjuggu, sóktu,
vörðust eins og ljón, fyrir ýta sjón, allt að.
kveldi börðust. -
Dymman vildi, að hættu hyldi, hraust-
ir brjótar fleyna, hvurugar und, við harðann
fund, hafði fengið neina.
76, Morgun stund:þá bregður blund, brynj-
46
aðir kappar hjeldu hólmin á, og högg ósmá,
hvurr þar öðrum seldu.
-
þenna dag; við darra jag, dugnað sýna
vildu, eins og fyrr þeir ósárir, enn að kveldi
ekyldu. -
Furðaði drótt, á þeirra þrótt, þó skuli
mennskir vera, ósynt var, hvur öðrum þar af
muni siðast bera. ; -
Skugga tíð þá leið frá lýð, en lýsti
morgun skýma, hittust ólmir enn á hólm, ýt-
ar þriðja tíma.
"80. Framarr tjer við fleyna grjer, finnst mjer
„betur hljóma, tökum sátt og bindum brátt
bræðralag með sóma.
-
- Sturlögur tjer, það auðheyrt er, að mig
núna dárir, meðan sterk við styrjar verk, stönd=
um hreint ósárir.
- Sturlögur tjer, það auðheyrt er, að mig
-
Eptir það, svo aftalað, otuðu hlífa flögð-
um, hreysti geði mesta með og miklum víga-
brögðum. -
Svo var hörð af: hetjum gjörð hríðin
unda gýga, engin sjá nam annað þá, en þeir
mundu hníga.
84, Ekkert sár, við sóknar fár, sóma hetjur
47
báru, en Starlögs hlýfar hörku stýfar, höggn-
ar sundur váru.
-
Öll herklæði hrundu á svæði hríngs, af
nýta runni, skaðast — nei — því skjóminn
ei, skyrtuna býta kunni. -
Framarr högg í fleina dögg, fjeékk af krapti
megnum, skióminn breiði skarpur sneyð skjöld=
inn niður Í gegnum. -
Hilmirs son í hefndar von, hjörinn þunga
reiddi orku með, og útan knjeð, á Sturlögi
sneyddi. -
Hjer af sár og hyldar tár, hetjan mátti
kanna, hvíldust „þá við hrotta þrá, hugdjarf=
astir manna.
89.. Suðra-knör, hin sömu kjör, sjer nú kýs
að hafa, því skal traust í þagnar naust, þann
um tíma hafa.
-
Rímae.
Mansöngurinn. -
Aptur hlýt jeg Hleiðólfs ýta karfa, fram á
galdurs grunn miðinn, þó glymji kaldi nátt
vakinn,
48
-
Sleppum því, þar slóðin dýa ljóma, kom=
in er Músa kvennkvalið, kennslu fús og staldr=
ar við. -
þar tilorða, þiljan borða tekur, ekki ring,
er allmörg gjörð, umbreyting á vorri jörð. -
Afmvndun af ógnar bruna köldu, á henni
skaðann auka vann, eptir það hún saman rann. -
Nóa tíða nauða stríða flóðið, olli meiri
umskipta, og svo fleiri breytinga. -
En menn skilja, eða vilja trúa, samt má
vita satt það er, þó sjáist ritað minnst á kver. -
Vötn, höf, sund og voldugar grundar
elfur, af jarðhristing, eldgosum urðu fyrst að
stór-flóðum. -
Dauðahafið helzt um skrafa bæri, sem hef-
ur vakið sagna fans, við suður takmörk
Júðalands. -
þar um kring, sem því nær hringur standa,
undra klettar all háir, eins ög settir múrvegir. -
Sökk þar niður neðzt í yður foldar, hels
og dýkis huldu krár, heilt kongsríki og borg=
ir þrjár. -
Blómleg hjeröð höfðu verið forðum, sem
nú dauða sjórinn er, sældar auð ei nokkurn
ber. -
Fljótið Jórdan fellur í stórsjó þenna,
úr þó sitra engin þar, ér menn vita neinstaðar.
- Dauða hafið, 12 mílur,á breidd og lengd, úr því
rennur enginn ós, en í það rennur þó fljótið Jórdan,
; 49
- Til bar þetta, „það jeg rjettast meina,
aukið trega auðnu þrots,r ofarlega á dögum
Lots Ef
14, Eldgos harðast og. svo jarðar bristing,
þessa stóru, breyting bar, að „brúna - ljórum
veraldar.
-
Um sömu mundir sem þau undur skeðu,
mun ei vafi margflókinn, að YA Sg lögur-
MR -
Á sama tíma týrar brýma móðu, litu
Danalöndin fríð, lypt úr svana björtu hlýð. -
Fyrst þá sáust Svíum frá uppskotin,
furðaði alla svoddan sjón, Sælund kalla náðu
frón. -
Allt um gjörði okkar jörð hinn stóri,
kynja náuða kraápt aukinn, Kristí dauða jarð-
skjálftinn. -
Hann var stærri, en höldar nærri geta,
hnöttinn allan inntók sá, eins að kalla lönd
og sjá. -
Undur slík þú efnis, rík mátt kalla, þar
um báðir Tasítus, trúlega skráðu og Pliníus.
% Og í þeim stóru eldgosum komet Lot einn af með
tveimur dætrum sínum, þegar það heila ríki sökk nið-
ur og 3 eða 4 borgir.
*) Lögurinn mikill landsjór Í Svíaríki, en fornsögur
Svía segja, að um það leyti hafl skotið upp Dan-
mörku, er þeir kölluðu þá Sælund.
4
50
-
Norðurálfan, eins á reiði „skjálfi ljek
þá öll sem lesa má, leið hún spjöllin ekki
smá. -
þar um fleira þjer í eyra sálar, mjer ei
líst að ausa inn, allra sízt í þetta sinn. -
Fengur óma fjell og róman líka, þar
sem nettast nað lúnar, niður settust hetj-
urnar. -
þreyta bæði þeim og mæði bægði, hild-
ar ala harðann slag, hófu að tála um bræðra
lag. -
Sem nú þegar, sáttgjarnlega ræddu, vagn
þar bráðast að þeim ók, og þá báða með sjer
tók. -
Áframm dregin að Vefreyju sölum, flutt-
ar vóru hetjur heim, hún og stórum fagnar
þeim. -
Hressing þáðu, hvíldar náðu kjörum,
síðan bundu bræðra lag, bezt við undu sæld-
ar hag. -
Þegar til var tíð á þili vagna, hófa-
karfa hleypa. skeið, hilmirs arfi burtu reið.
51
-
Sturlögur fylgdi stála gildum njóti, tyggja
Valda til hallar, tjáðu haldnar sættirnar. -
Slíku fagna fylkir bragna mundi, en
stálagrjer hinn starfsami, Sturlögur er frá sög-
unni. -
Nokkru síðar sefrings hlýða gefni, Ingi-
björgu Framarr fjekk, fremdin mörg að hönd-
um gjekk. -
Svo þar eptir sorgir heptu gleti, kon-
ungs Valda fagra fljóð, fetaði kalda bana slóð. -
Harmaði tyggi tára fryggjar selju, þar
til njóla bjarnar blá, brúna sólum ljetti frá. -
Hulin týjum hernað í þá vildi, Framarr
ota fylum trjes, fram á vota geddu nes. -
Sviptur yndi sjóli lyndis hreldur, fylk-
irs arfa frægum þá, fylgdi karfa brautir á. -
Fjelag bundu, flýkur undu' að húnum
og hvar vigur verjur skar, vunnu sigur all-
staðar.
37, Að liðnu sumri lögðu af humra mýri,
öldu rokkum undir tog, inn á nokkurn skerja
vog.
- Herinn þáði hvíld og náða tíðir, þar til
dellingsarfinn óð, yfir velli! og a slóð.
52
-
Skamt var sól, frá sýla bóli farin, er
menn sáu fimmtán fley, flana þá að herjans
mey. -
Borða frekur flaut þar dreki meður, víða
gilltur áfram óð, á honum trylltur risi stóð. -
Heljarligur hár og dygur líka, ekki bjart-
ur ásýndar, æði margt af lýtum bar.
„42. Trölla lýður trönur vítis færði, áls af
leiðum alvotar, inn að skeiðum gramsonar.
-
Hljóði grimmu og hrópi dymmu með=
ur; risinn spyr hvurr rjeði þar, rossum fyrir
skervallar. -
Framar svarar fóli garalegu, vígs til
þrauta veuur her, Valdi Gauta kongur hjer. -
Seig þú hrykinn, hingað vikinn ljóti,
dælu hrafni ötull á, ætt og nafni þínu frá. -
Hvaðan að þig hafs mm traðir bláar,
hingað bar á hafnir inn, hjer til svarar jöt-
uninn. -
Sá hjet Kolur sá ljet holund míga,
kífs á akur krók vaxinn, Kroppinbakur fað-
ir minn. -
Í Mundufjöllum, mestu tröllum stærri,
53
hellir byggir móðir mín, mjer alldygg í ráð-
um sín.
49, Að Framari leyta um lúðu reita fer
jeg Herfinns arfa honum víst hefndir þarf að
spara sízt.
- Niður á honum, helzt er von að komi,
föður og bróður bana sök, að blundi móður
hels í vök.
öl. Sóti heiti? jeg sjót það veit fullabli,
hetjur allar hrætast mirn hreysti snjalla mann-
dóminn.
-
Hetjan ynnir, bjer munu linna ferðir,
fól þitt skal ei fæla mig, Framar talar nú
við þig. -
Sóti aptur sverða rapti gegndi, Hólm á
skora hlýt jeg þig, hafirðu þor að líta mig.
54, Framarr tjer, það falli sjer og betur,
með því spörum mengið þá, meðan förum hólm=
inn á.
-
Að avo mæltu, meðan stæltu sinni, gengu
ránar gyltum frá, glampaði mána tvíblinds á. -
Við það staldra vinir ga'dr; föðurs
meðan undir fætur fá, feldinn grundu breidd
ann á,
ö4
-
Til ólnkku, teigði hrukkur Sóti, hvar við
bakið beygði þó, bar eitt nakið sax í kló. -
Neðan undir, ötlings kundar brynju,
bófinn lagði beint á snið, benja flagði gegn-
um kvið. -
Stálið bjarta stóð í hjartarótum, Framarr
bana fann þar sinn, fljóði grana roðnar kinn. -
Fylkir sjer, að Framarr er þá hnýginn,
hart vit brá, við hlýfa grand, hetjan kná og
stökk á land. -
Vóð að Sóta Valdi fóta hraður, hinn
bar undir hausinn þá, herjans tundur skall
þar á.
62, Beit ei hót, á bein í Sóta kolli, en
hvarma glerin hrukku á kinn, í hringa snjer=
ist jötuninn.
-
Milding lagði mjaðma bragð á kauða,
biltu hvar af hlaut ókyrr, heingdur var hann
þar eptir. -
Sóta sker þar síðan eru kölluð, einnig
teit það öldin les, að það heiti Sóta nes. -
Fley. og auðinn eptir dauðann Sóta,
linna braut sem.hrikans her, hilmir Gauta tók
að sjer,
55
-
Þar frá láti þá sem bráðast. — kyla
gotar — óðu geddu djúp, gliggur stóð í mastra
hjúp. -
Tuttug' og fjórir fýlar kjóru láða, runnu
skeið með brjóta brands, beina leið til Gauta-
lands. { -
Setzt að láði, sjóli dáðum þakinn, fræg-
um lætur fremdin mörg, en Framarr grætur
Ingibjörg. -
Nokkru síðar syklings fríða dóttir, fæða
mundi fríðann beym, fagnaði a burði
þeim. -
Sá var álma sendir Hlér nefndur,
Framars kundur fluttar bar, fjörs um stund-
ir listirnar.
t1. Hjá afa og móður mækja rjóður dvaldi,
þroski krafði þess ósmár, þar til hafði fimmt-
án ár.
-
Hjálmars lýsing hölda fýsir vita, þá var
fyrst hann fríðleik bar, fremst af kvistum sæ-
glótar. -
Svo var fagur sunnu lagar viður, að
öllum hugur hló við þá, hans göfugu mynd
er sjá. .
56
-
Hár og þrekinn, hyrðir dreka túna, afl
af lýðum öllum bar, ekki síður furðu snar. -
„Lands af mengi mátti enginn jafnast,
hjörs: í nyða breggvitrum, Hjálmar við að
íþróttum. St ; -
Viðmóts glaður, vel siðaður líka, hróðr=
ar smíð og hörpu slátt, hann með prýði rækti
þrátt.
-
Svo hugprúður, hárs var skrúða bald-
ur, að! Hjálmar sá Hug stóri, heitinn var að
auk nafni. ' ' -
Herma sögur hans á dögum væri, eng=
inn fegri, afl meiri, alúðlegri og snarari.
79. Fimmtán ára freyju tára bjóður, hraust-
ur fyrst í hernaði, hug og lystir prófaði.
80. Hreysti slinga, hervíkinga felldi, og hvar
sem vigur hafinn var, hafði sigur allstaðar.
81. Að Vindlandi voga þandi jóra, fór her-
skyldi? um frónið þar, fjellu' á hildi sveitirnar.
82. Þrjár sjóborgir, bráins'torg og mengi,
Tíjálmar vann á Vindlandi, vals í hranna kafaldi.
- þaðan hjeldt á þrumu belti síðan, her-
fang með og harðfengt lið, há gól kveður
dröfnin við.
57
-
Leyptur sjós og sigtrbrós nam gleðja,
Hugar stóra hjörfa týr, hljes og jórar fernir
þrír. -
Undan gráti, að Gartaláði stýrði, beið
ei grand við geddu torg, gekk á land að höf-
utborg. -
Afi Hjálmars, hreti skálma tamur, fyr-
ir árum fjórum þá, fölur nár í haugi lá. -
Stýrði ríki, stortin sýkja mána „sjö þó
tíu teldi senn Trana því hún lifði enn. -
Drottnig mundi dýrum kundar syni, fagna
nenna náms um ból, ný upprenna þótti sól. -
Nú það eina yndi meinar fljóði. ríki
herjað hennar var, hauðrið verja dugði? ei par. -
Hjet Dúngaður hilmir skata frægur, jag-
aði beyma járns í þrá, Jötunheimum norð-
an frá. á -
Mennskum öllu meiri og tröllum stærri,
þengils fylltu feykna her, fjórtán trylltir ber-
scrker. -
Her drottningar hafði? á þingum geyra,
náms um vegi nauðbeygðan, niðurslegið gjör-
vallan. j -
Hjálmar bauðst; með herjans rauðum
58
eldi, færstra líki, furðu snar, að friða ríki
drottningar.
-
Sýnu liði síðan niður raðar, hugar stór
í hrotta þrá, hressast fór hún Trana þá. -
Átur enn Hjálmar hretið skálma byrjar,
sinn í 'Trana sængur rann, sverða grana kalla
vann. -
Væn herklæði, hangdu gæða fögur, und-
ir skýlum efstu þar, yfir hvílum drottningar. -
Aldin snót við örfa brjót svo mælti:
hetjan prúða hirtu þar, hildar skrúða Týrusar, -
Munu fáir mennskir á þeim halda, himni
opnum undir má, önnur vopn ei betri fá.
-
Fylkir síðan, fjell í hríð val meyja, þau
jeg geymdi og þjer nú sel, þó ei gleymdi að
hirða vel. -
Sig hertýjar, hetjan frígeðjaða, sýnd-
ist þreki svara lund, sverðið ljek í sterkri mund. -
Hildar skrúð nær hetju prúða vafði,
ömmu sinni þýðar þá, þakkir ynnir hjarta
frá. ? -
Svo án biðar, sínu.liði meður, Dúng-
ábs móti heldur her, hríðin spjóta dymma fer, -
Hvíldir stundar, haukur þundar, móð-
59
ur, lýéur skýma ljórum fjær, lætist gríma
hvörmum nær.
-
Ríma.
Mansöngurinn. -
Elli daufum hressir hug, herjans staupa
lögur skær, líkt sem andinn fái flug, í fagurt
land, hvar yndið grær. -
þegar herjans horna skúr, hyggju tún ei
lífgar þar, þá er kraptur allur úr, ámu fylli
Gunnlaðar. -
það er að skilja, þegar ljóð, þulin lýsa
sögunum, og að fylgja falleg hljóð, fögrum
rímna brögunum. -
Rímna var það helzt upphaf, að halda
sögnum betur við, og með róm sem Guð. 088
gaf, að gleðja mengi dálítið. -
Keisarar ljetu kveða ljóð, kongar, jarl-
ar hetjurnar, fleyrst þá hlýddi þeirra þjóð,
þar af spruttu sögurnar. -
Öldum sítar sögunum, svo var aptur
breitt í ljóð, sem á háum hugmyndum, hrósa
mörg að gáfna sjóð. -
þeir sem gátu lystum lýst, í ljóða smíti
margs konar, ei hafa verið allir sízt aula“
grey og letingar. -
Fjöldi klerka flutti þjóð, fagur myndað
60
rímna val, sýslu rekar lögutu ljóð, leikmenn
þar til nær ótal.
-
Álitu það ójafnir, óðs við smíði runnar
fleins, að misjafnt fljúga fuglarnir, fyður skammt
ei þágu eins. -
Einn þó komist ærið skammt, upp frá
jörð á móts við hinn, hvurr með nefi sinu
samt sýngur, flöktir ófeyminn. -
Skítur hvurr ei annan út, þó allir jafnt
ei sýngi þar, rímur sínar róms af stút, raula
fram sem skamtað var. -
Ei þeir taka útlenzk lög, að æða með
um himininn, því þeir eru æftir mjög, inn-
lenda við tóninn sinn. -
Himins fuglar heyrið nú, hjartanlega þess
jeg bið, haldið stöðugt tryggð og trú, tónana
ykkar gömlu við.
14, þó ali fuglar tamdir títt, tóna brúki út-
lenzka, og eptir þeirra skrafi skýtt, að skeita
neitt um innlenda,
- Útlendan þó óðar skamt, ítum gali Pá-
fuglar, ykkar kvakið íslenzkt samt aldrei þagni
Titlingar.
"16. Látið ykkur ljúft og tamt, að ljóða og
kveða rímna grei, hegrinn lasti sundið samt,
sjálfur ef hann kann það ei.
- Hjálmar náði hasla völl, hilmi þeim er
61
stírði þjóð, hjer næst gullu hornin öll, hjör út=
manar segga blóð.
-
Berserkirnir undan öld, æddu framin í
jötunmóð, ítum Hjálmars æli kvöld, ótal veittu
týrs með glóð. -
Halurin sjer að hrikar þeir, hans þar
fella muni lið, að þeim fer og gildan geir, gaurn=
um fremsta rak í kvið. -
Hinir allir ærðust þá, öskri með í kring-
um rekk, hart þeir skóku hjalta ljá, höggum samt
hann varist fjekk. -
Hjálmar líkur ljóni var, loddaranna í
kvíjum þá, hausa klauf og höndurnar, hjör með
kvistar búkum frá. -
þar um lengja þarf ei ljóð, þó að berð=
ust hamramir, allir ljetu líf og blóð, loks fyr=
ir honum berserkir.
23.. Enn á meðan harður her, höggorustu
skarpa jók, Hjálmars fólk því færra er frem-
ur undan hopa tók.
-
Hjálmar sínu liði lið, lagði svo að duga
vann, kjalars elda viði við, vakti að nýu bar-
dagann. -
Hann fram gjekk á hildar dans, hrilli-
62
legast. mannfall jók, öðlings her með öngvan
stans, unnvörpum svo falla tók. j
-
Einn af jötna hraustum her, hljóp að
tjöldum beina leið, filkir þar sem fyrir er, og
fregnum sigurs eptir beið. -
Í höfuð tjaldi hilmir sat, hafði að skemt-
un tafl og vín, hinn sem óður galað gat, gæta
máttu kongur þín. -
Her drottningar harður mjög, heljar vel-
ur mörgum beð, dæmir þjóðum dauðalög, dreng-
ur einn sem þeim er með. -
Á stuttum tíma ólmur einn alla þína
berserki hjó til bana hans ei neinn, held jeg
valla líki sje. -
Alla fellir okkar þjóð, engin stendur hon-
um við, hvar hann bærir hnikars glóð, helið
stendur galopið. -
Hvílík ókjör hilmir tjer, hefur þú að
segja frá, jeg skal þessum geira grjer grimma
hefnd og dautan fá. -
Sig hertýar sjóli snart, svo til æðir bar-
dagans mummung skók í mundum hart, marg-
ur hræddist. aðgang hans. -
Grimmur felldi gauta her, gili meður
63
sáraljá. Hjálmar fór að hraða sjer, hann er
liðið falla sá.
-
Hittust þeir við hildar stekk, hjörinn
keirði Dúngaður, afli með að mætum rekk, mjög
af bræði þungaður. -
Hlífar mættu höggi því, hvergi meidd-
ust plöggin sterk, fljótt upp reiddi geirs í gní,
gínars loga keinpan merk. -
Blóðs til mænir bæsings egg, buðlungs
armin steiptist á, sneið í sundur vala vegg,
við albogan hægri þá. -
Sverð á foldu hraut með hönd, hilmir
griða biðja fer, og lagði sig með lifi' og önd
ljúft á vald þeim frægðir ber. -
Hjálmar gefur hilmi líf, hann að tjöld-
um fluttur var, það nam sefa sóknar kíf, sverð
í smugu skeiðarnar. -
Lofuðu jötnar aptur á, aldrei herja garða
sveit, þaðan hraktir hjeldu frá, en Hjálmar ok
þar linna reit. -
Svo eru jötnar sögunni frá, sína Hjálm=
ar taldi drótt, hans af mengi Helftin lá, hroð=
in bæði lífi og þrótt. {
41, Svo til borgar Hjálmar hjelt, honum
64
Trana fagna vann, sigur hljóm og hrósið hvellt,
heira mátti um sjerhvern rann.
-
Þakkar frelsi líðs og lands, laufa þundi
týinn snót, borgir fimm og gangis glans, gaf
honum rjett í þokkabót -
var svo þar um veturinn, virðing með
og: fögnuði, heimti saman herinn sinn, hjer
næst þegar voraði. -
Bjóst að kanna birtings völl, blinds í
veðra köldu þrá, maktar háa menja þöll, mál
við Hjálmar vakti þá. -
Garða ríki vil jeg víst, við þú takir nú
af mjer, þinn sem arfur', ei mjer lýst, að
það gangi? úr hendi þjer. -
Hjálmar aptur ansa fer, aldurs hárri
bauga nó, Gautaríkis jeg til er, aungvu síður
borinn þó. -
þessu geng jeg ekki að, enn ert þú til
stjórnar fær? síðan skyldu þau „við það, þrumu
beltis jaðri nær. -
Svo er Trana sögunni frá, sjálfsagt nú
fyrir löngu dauð. En Hjálmar beytti hafið á
hestum kila brands í nauð.
49, Þar sem Hjálmars hrana sól, hárs í
65
mugga skína ljet, sigur hlaut og bráins ból,
barst hans lof um dýra flet.
-
Hjelt á Púl með hersveitir, harðir þóttu
Pólínar, aldrei hafði hann fundið fyrr, frækn-
ari þjóð til hernaðar. -
Tíu háði hrotta jel, Hjálmar þar um
sumarið, gysti meir en helftin hel, hans eð
frækna Gauta lið. -
Ætíð sigur hafði hann, hríð þó væri
geira dymm, og að lyktum líka vann lands af
mengi borgir fimm. -
Um haustið ljetti hernaði, hesta spanar
kalda lóns, hlaðna dýru herfangi, heim á leið
til Gauta fróns.
54, Uður þandi ginið grátt, gusaði hefring
froðonum, jötuns andi hvæsti hátt, herti gúl á
voðonum.
-
Tónuðu strengir, tístu hjól, trönur súða
hratt fram bar, vel og lengi hljes á hól, hrygg-
inn skárn sæmeyjar: -
Fílum kýla ferð var á, froðan sauð á
brjóstonum, bólmar sýla bólgin þá, bylgjan
gnauð á hóstonum. ; -
Styttist leið um steinbíts áa, stelkir ára
68
frí við tjón, nttu auð cg ýta val, inn á höfn
við Gauta frón.
- Átján saman flóða fil, festi Hjálmar þar
við sand, og hjelt sem snarast hallar til, þan
þá keminn var á land.
“69. Fagnaðar varð fundur stór, frægðar sög-
„ur heyrðust þar, kynja fje af kólgu jór, kongs
"til sála borið var.
-
Afa með og móðir bjó, mækja týr um
veturinn, fögnuð við og virting þó, veðra gali
jötuninn.
#61. Svasuðar þá blíða brún, blóminn lífgar
fölnuðu, Hjálmár fram á hnísu tún hjelt með
lið í víkingu. -
Hvergi framdi hrotta hret, hauðri á um
sumar“ það, - heldur sjónum sýngja ljet, sigur-
messu tyrfings blað.
#63. Hvar sem áuðuns elda bör otaði skess-
ví hólundar, misstu? auð en felldu fjör, fyr-
ir honum víkingar.
- Eignast hafði geira grjer, gripa val og
órma strönd, fýla trjes og feykna her, frægð
hans barst um sjó og lönd.
“65, Af nam láta orustum, Eyrar- þegar
67
kom á = sund, snemma um haustið hlunn-
jórum, Hjálmar beytti? að Svía grund.
-
Svíaríki rjeði þá, ræsir sá er Yngi hjet,
frægðar makt 'og hefðin há, hans út barst
um dýra flet. -
Hilmir bíður Hjálmari hallar til, með
lið af gnoð, hann við stórt ei staldraði, stól-
konungs að higgja boð. -
lívergi sparði hilmirs makt, hetjum vel
að taka mót, vantaði engva veraldar prakt,
veizlu snið og kærleiks hót. -
Heyra mátti gleði glaum, gjöfum sumir
hrósuðu, flestir horna hylja straum, hirtu svo
þeir glöðnuðu. -
Hjálmar fús að rífa rönd, rausnar þáði
virðingar, gylfa svenskum gekk á hönd og
gjörðist láða vörður þar. -
Hetjan varði hilmirs land, hart nær eyddi
víkingum, blinds í hríðum bauð ei grand, bænda
þjóð nje kaupmönnum. -
Elskuðu Hjálmar lýðir lands, langt yfir
rokkurn annan beym, vildu fleirstir vinskap
hans, virða meir en gull og seym. -
Einu sinni súða mar synda lætur hauðri
a"
68
að, hundrað manns á honum var, hans vóru
beztu kappar það.
-
Tólf með sveina gekk á grund, glæst-
an skjöld og rómu tól, fjekk sjer hvíld í fögr-
um lund, fagurt skeyn þá morgun sól. -
Gullna hörpu hóf að slá, hvar til nýan
samdi óð, lystug kvæði ljek og smá, lofðungs
Svía gjörð um jóð. -
Látum rekknum ljóðaspjall, líka hörpu
skemta fyrst, sagan brúkar sitt að kall, svo
að efnið fram teigist. A -
Á þeim tíma til hjá þjóð, tjáð er væri
Nadd- Oddur kempa frægst, um lög og lóð,
Loðinkinna Gríms var bur. -
Hans er frægðin uppi enn, öllum fremri
víkingum, engvir sigra mennskir menn máttu
hann á valþingum. 5 -
Víða fór um veðra ból, var honum sagt
af Hjálmari, að enginn frægri undir sól, al-
inn væri fullhugi. -
Heit streingdi það hetjan merk, Hjálm-
ar finna lofaðann, og vita hverjum höndin sterk
hærri sigur gefa kann.
$1. Víða fór um frón og mar, frægur skögl-
69
ar messu þjón, þar til hitti! á höfn er var,
Hjálmars bundið mastra - ljón.
-
Halurinn frjetti hljes um reyt, hvur á
skipið vel mannað, Oddi svarar öldin teyt
ekki? er vert að dylja það. -
Hugum stóri Hjálmar á, hestinn flóða,
góta og lýð, hræðist þór ei sverta sá, sóknar
skæða spjóta hríð. -
Móins reita gildur grjer gekk á land til
skemtunar, ef hans leitar ætlum vjer, að hann
finna munir þar. -
þegar Oddur fregnað fjekk, fleina bör
hvar mundi nú, teygði spor frá tjalda bekk,
titraði gömul þundar frú. -
Hjálmur ljek á hörpu stillt, hvar til
bragi semja vann, varð honum ekki við það
bilt, þó vopnaðan sæi koma mann. -
Drjúgum skálmar Oddur að, ylfing ber-
an greipti mund, þar sem Hjálmars harpa
kvað, heilsa fer með kaldri lund. -
Oddur hjalar máls um mið; mjög er
kempu lund sú veik, meyja söngva sitja við,
sjer og temja strengja leik. -
Jeg hefi leitað eptir þjer, ærið vítt um
s
70
landa bug, strax á hólmi mættu mjer, manns
ef ber þú nokkurn dug.
-
Hjálmar sínum hætti brá, hót ei þetta
talið við, þar til kvætin ætluð á, endað hafði?
og strengja klið. -
Hann þá stóð upp hlæjandi, heyra sagð-
ist vilja það: hvurr sjer ýtrast einvígi, örðugt
bjóði þar í stað. -
Oddur strax til sagti sín, svaraði Hjálm-
ar — það er vel — hefi jeg frjett af hreisti
þín, hartfengustu týrs við jel. -
þú skalt fá að fást við mig, frægð er
okkar beggja það, báðir síðan bjuggu sig, bitr-
an undir sára nað. -
Undir brinju Oddur bar, eina skyrtu er
járn ei beit, henni jafnan vafinn var, vals Í
hríðum kempa neit. -
Hjálmar týin Týrusar, tók á sig og engu
kveið, hugar fríju hetjurnar, hólminn mynda
til um leið. -
Auðuns bálum brugð' á lopt, blossuðu
geislar langt í kring, syndruðu gneistar undan
opt, eggjum þegar gnúðu hring.
97, Látum hetjur höggva' og slá, hót ei
A
dvel jeg þar í kvöld, sígur leti augun á. af hví
fel jeg brags áhöld.
——....
-
Ríma.
Mansöngurinn. -
Maurnar anda ljái lið, ljóða dís að vana,
gleðin standa fái frið, fleirstir prísa Hana. -
Mærtar strengjum ljóða lofn, lífgar hreim-
inn gæða, kindir drengjum yndis- ofn, að ef
streymir mæða. -
Ísa dróttum ærið margt, illa vanka gef-
ur, fargast þróttug fremdar art, fjöruga þanka
kefur. -
Margar fremdir þjáir þrá, þeim svo fer
hnignandi, listisemdir fáar fá, fleirstir hjer í
landi. -
Svo það eina! er átti drótt, okkar mærð-.
ar smíði, má nú greina hátt og hljótt, hinir
lærðu níði. -
þa ið mun geði þykja leitt, þá með ama
segi, rímu kveða erindi eitt, ekki framar megi. -
það margialdar muna tjón, manns og
hringa gefni, að vort kalda færir frón, fá glaðn-
ingar efni. -
Bríkin-dúka birtu mjer, (bresti kila gjöld-
in). hvað á að brúka handa þjer, hýru til
kvöldin.
72
-
Við þá streitir starfið hönd, stynja, söngla,
morra, vakan þreytir auga" og önd, ærið löng
er dorra. . -
Eitt mun ráð, það oss er ljent, (engvir
hlaup þau banna) það sem bráðast sje þá sendt,
senn til kaupstaðanna. -
þar er kæti, þar er vín, þar má fá í bolla,
staupa glæta gleður fín, góð er þá Púnskolla. -
Speigil meta sprund Óreið1, spil og
smekk í nefið, þó má geta þess um leið, þetta?
er ekkert gefið ?. -
Þar til rökin þekkja má, þetta brestur
stundum, heima tökin þægri þá, þykja flest-
um sprundum. -
Hvað skal mjer, að minnast á, mjúka
skemtan fljóða, mönduls kneri.fagra fá, fjörið
skemmt er ljóða. -
Hróðrar dugur; minkar mjer, myndin
eina þrumir, full sjötugur orðin er, áður kveina
sumir. -
Tel jeg búin mansöng minn, minnst er
kæli bragna, veljið nú um varninginn, veri þið
sæl — jeg þagna —.
17, Góms andvana gal jeg fól, griða veizlu
- Sjaldgæft mun að sá sem er reiður vilji skoða sig
í speigli. - Opt þrjóta glaðværðar- meðöl í kaupstöðum þá
! vest gegnir.
,
73
náði, þar sem hrana sala sól, seggja geislum
stráði. “
-
Börðust lengi grimmt með geð, gautar
fljóta brennu, hverigs mengi hafði sjeð harð
ari spjóta sennu. -
Engin þráa klóta kast, kefja treysti dugji,
daga þrjá fram hjeldu hast, hrana gneista flugi. -
Hjálmars styfa blóðs á braut, benjaljár-
inn harði, Odds af hlýfa skar allt skraut, skyrt=
„an sárum varði. -
Hægri mundar missti þar, minnsta fíng-
ur — skeinu — fjörs um stund þá frægur
bar frá valþingum einu. -
Brands ei hlinur hinn fjekk þar hlífa
spor af gyðju, einn þó brinju baugur var,
brjósti? á skorinn miðju. -
Sættust bræðra sömdu grið, sóknar kala
lægðu, trönum flæða" um tjaldra mið „til Upp-
sala bægðu.
24, Efldu þræsur engvar þá, eining sanna
ljeðist, Ynga ræsir Oddur hjá, að hirómanni
rjeðisi,
- Kappinn hár sem hrærði mund, hremsu
74 A
grimmt að flugi, stóð að árum um þá stund.
efst á fimmta tugi.
-
Hinn sen eggjum hvössum skar, hrugn-
is ylja.sessu, ára tveggja tuga var, á tíma=
bili þessu. -
Tug ár frama þjentu þar, þá mörg her-
för „skeði, löngum saman, samt við bar, sínu
hver að rjeði. -
Þeim fjörblómans árum á, um hjelt gæ!-
an stýri, og þeirra skjóma skiptum frá, skráð
mörg æfintýri. -
Var sannfæring fundin bezt, fólka er
þorði? að röndum, Hjálmar væri hetja. mest,
heims á Norðurlöndum.
30.. þessum haustum öllum á, af þá ljetu
slörum, ýtar braustir Ynga hjá, eyddu vetr-
ar dögum.
-
Ynga dóttir Ingibjörg, ógipt tíð þá sit-
ur, hringa þótti fryggjan fjörg, fögur, blíð og
vitur. -
Hjálmar einatt ástir með, undi kyssa
svanna, fast í leynum fjekk það skeð, fátt svo
vissi manna. -
Ást fjekk hrein án aðgjörðar, eiavalds
75
lundar bólin,; ætvik meinlegt una til bar, um
tíunda jólin.
-
Genginn hvurr í höll þá var, hárr ben
kólfa valinn, Arngríms burir Bólmeyjar, brun-
uðu tólf í salinn. -
Afbragð hlýra? að öllu var, einn og
hærstur granna, hálfan svíra' og haus. ofbar,
Hjálmar stærstann manna. -
Verstu bræður fólkið flýr, för ei spilla
þorði, mestur æðir Angantýr, innað "styllirs
borði. -
Kvaddi drótta tyggja og tjer: tengdir
bjóða þorum, giptu dóttir þína? óþver, þessum
bróður vorum. -
Hjörvarðs nafn sá forðum fjekk, frægst-
ur hlina branda, engvan jafnan jeg leit rekk,
undir brynju standa. -
Þegar móðug endar orð, öflugur atála-
sveigir, Hjálmar stóð við hilmirs borð, hóf
upp mál segir: -
Opt vjer jöfur yptum rönd, á blóð mið-
um vörmum, ytar höfum látið lönd, liggja' í
friðar örmum. -
Eins um svæði" og saltan hlje, sókn ei
76
feldum niður, löndum bæði! og lausafje, laufg-
að veldið yður.
-
Vilda jeg göllum varnað fá, er wísirs
byngja kjörum, hjeðan öllum hratt jeg frá, her-
víkinga förum. -
Betra merki málma kífs, mundi að
þægi' jeg kæru, en berserkjum unntis vffs, og
þó frægir væru. -
Kongur segir satt er það, sjest hjer mun
að bera, því skal meyjan einhlýt að, ansvör-
unum vera. -
Biðla valið vefst ei mjer, vífið spaka
segir, eru halir ynntir hjer, ósamtakanlegir. -
Fögur sólar bylgju bil, bónorðs grein
án trega, kröfð af sjóla sagna til, svaraði
einarðlega. -
Hvenær skyldi jeg lukkuleg lifa og átorðu
ráða, hetju gildri ef hafna jeg, hærstu norð-
urláða. -
Jeg svo þungan úrskurð gel, ofnirs reina
hlinum, Hjálmari ungum ástir sel, ekki nein-
um hinum. -
þættu herkjur þjóðkongum, (banka' ei
1
efum tjeðan), að berserkjum illræmdum, jeg sje
gefin hjeðan.
50.. Auts af slóð nær Angantýr, að komst
mála skorðum, í al þjóðar heyrn ó hýr, hratt“
svo slrjálar orðum:
-
Hjörfa svegi brós er fríð, hóf nú grund-
in tvinna, Sáms á ey og Oddi býð, eggja
fundi sinna. -
Lítt mun hræða lífað fjer, leið á humra
tanga, ykkar bræður vitjum vjer, viku af sumri
þangað. -
Svo mun frjett hver auðgrund á, eptir
eára fundinn, Hjálmar ljettbrýnn hermdi, já,
handsöl váru bundin. -
Bræður keirðu' að geddu geim, gnoð úr
vari lyptu, engin heyrði ýta þeim, árna far-
ar giptu. -
Fjelagarnir fylkir hjá, frömuðu vana gleði
dag unz bjarnar dróttir sjá, deyfð úr man-
ar geði.
„56. Straumar tíma streyma í, stunda tómið
niður, herjans bríma börvar því, bjuggust
rómu. viður.
57, Hleypa úr festi" á höfrungs geym, hal-
78
ir tjátir ljetn, öldu hestum ærnum tveim, ask-
ar báðir hjetu. -
-
Grafnings leyra greyptir fans, glóðu' á
öldu riði, hvurr á þeirra hundrað manns, hlóðst
af völdu liði. -
Ránar meyjar flýttu för, framm á höfr=
ungs grundir, Sáms. að eyju kafar Knör, kilju
tröfum undir. -
Akker riðjast greitt til grunns, gliggur
eyrðar biður, sterkum viðjum — hestar hlunns
hýmdu — reyrðir niður. -
Svo fóstbræður sagtir þeir, sízt er nauða
kenndu, í herklæðum einir tveir, upp á hauð-
ur vendu. -
Ei til sáu sinna meir segla fríðu hreyna,
heldur fráum fæti þeir, fóru víða“ um eyna. -
Enn á meðan að bar tjón, Angantýr
hinn frægi, kom og sjeð fær súða - ljón, svo
þar snýr að lægi.
64, Þar til veiða þeinkti sjer, þung við
nöldur kýfsins, sig tilreiða rr fer, að fresta
kvöldi lífsins.
- Harðan buðu bræður fund, böls með
GG
(ð
ljósa vigri, skipin hrutðu' á skammri stund,
skjótum hrósa sigri. *
-
Stukku? á land, en hjal ei hljótt, hóf
svo flokkur strítur, hjer bar andgr engin þrótt, *
afl í skrokkum síður. -
Eret við málma hnýginn sjót, hlutalægri
báru, Oddur og Hjálmar ekki hót, öðrum
frægri váru.
"68. Harður Angantýr þá tjer: tamur brodda
svifi, má ske strangar hetjur hjer, Hjálmar og
Oddur lifi.
-
Lítið saka lýst mjer það, ljóss í þund-
ar köfum, vora maka ei þó að, enn þá fund-
ið höfum. -
Allt fóstbræður heyrðu hvað, hlýrar mál
í báru, einni hæð þeir hittust að, hveðjur
strjálar váru. -
Hjálmars æðar þrútnar þá, þeinkti? að
krumma bráði, fleygði bræður augum á, eld-
fjörgum og tjáði: -
Ykkar raus við heyrðum hjer, hjörs af
stríðu dunum, saka lausann höggva her, hæfir
níðingunum. -
Angantýr þá ynna fer, ykkar leyta vár-
80
um, okkur skírist þökk af þjer, þessar geitur
skárum.
-
Smán er fengin fylgð af ná, færleiks
ærum kynum, jeg því engan einn þar sá, af
sem bæri hinum. -
Hetjum ströngum þikkjan þjett,! aðka
fórr um ranninn, lög hólmgöngu samin sett,
seggja voru þanninn: -
Hvur sem bæri“ af hólmi líf, heiging
dauðum gildi, sviptir væri" ei hjálmi. hlíf, hjör
nje rauðum skyldi. -
„Skiptust harðir hlýrar þá, hasla spanga
mýri, fimm Hjörvarði fylgi ljá, fimm 08. Ang-
antýri. -
Týrs bál - eitrað tyrfing þrátt, til stór-
ræða bar ann, tveggja heitinn maki að mátt,
mestur bræðra var hann. -
Oddur Hjálmars talar til, (trautt jeg
rengi gruni), þennan málma þungan bil, þjóð-
ir lengi muni. -
Skyrtan veldur — brynju blá — bens
þó tangi ríri, vil jeg heldur vopnum fá, varpa?
að Angantýri. -
Ættir skynja meining mín, metnað setja
81
lögin, stendst ei fríföld þín, þeirrar
hetju slögin.
-
Bágt mjer veitir ör það, böls í miðri
pínu, hann að eitrað hvessings blað, holdi
sliðri þínu. -
Tæpt þrítugan orðin enn, alls má fær-
an kalla, full sextugum meina menn, munði
nær að falla. -
Hjálmar strftur þág ei það, þessum
ræðum linnti, Hjörvarð síðan Oddur að, yggj=
ar glæðum kindti. -
En þó talar, jeg vil mjer, einn í senn
að mati, meðan alið fæ jeg fjer, feings á brennu
stræti. , -
þessu hlýða — en þolgæði, þraut af
staldri fjendur, ginum víðum grenjandi, -gnög=
uðu skjalda rendur.
87." Angantýr ei ylfing brá, Í slátt fleina
raman — sóktu hlýrar Hjálmar þá, hans í
einu saman.
- Bjó nú Hjálmar bræðrum fimm, bana-
spor óþokka, slögin málma geysi grimm, gegn-
um bora skrokka.
89, Heljar mönnum högg órír, hagin móú-
82
ug lánar, urgaði tönnum Angantýr, Öskrati,
stóð og blánar.
-
Hlýrar málma ulli að, otuðu berum
fjöðrum, fyrir Hjálmars fetla nað, fjell þá hver
af öðrum. -
Hjörs af fundi hrukku því, hels að móð=
ir gínu, skornir sundur skrokkar í, skrikktust
blóði sínu. S -
Hjálmar gæddur hug órír, hels frá baði
gengur, framm þá æddi Angantýr, ei gat stað=
ið lengur. -
Ljóns við hug og grimmdar geð, geirs
að heggur njóti, hermanns dug og hreysti með
Hjálmar leggur móti. -
Fagra hvelið faldist þar, freyjum hrann-
ar bríma, skall á jelið sjelfingar, sköfnungs
annan tíma. -
Kappar.hörðum hetju móó, hart svo
rendur skóku, bifaðist jörð, en branda hljóð,
björgin endurtóku. -
Brynjur slitna; benja ljá blóðsins elfur
fegra, Oddur vitnar, enginn sá, einvíg skelfi=
legra.
97, Vörn ei dugði voðalig, vöðvar fláðu
83
sundur, fellt hvurr hugði hinnst á sig, herjans
gljáða tundur.
-
Odd þeir bræður einn í senn, öndu
fyrtan hugði, öll herklæði hjággjust enn, hon-
um skyrtan dugði. -
Hetjan lerkar bels að bý, hreysti ríka
voma, þóttist herkjur áður í, aldrei slfkar
koma. -
Óðum rjóðum elda flóðs, öllum ruddi
dauðum, móður stóð á bala blóðs, brandi studd-
ur rauðum. í -
Vald" af mæði mátti lítt, mjög dreir
vörmu sverti dauðra bræðra úr bolum gpítt,
blóð af hvörmum þerði. -
Odd að fýsir Angantí eigðan fá ef stend-
ur, grám valdísar greipum Í, grúfði hann þá
örendur. -
Hjálmar seinast gengið gat, geirs frá
snjalla braki, þúfu eina upp við sat, að hvar
hallar baki. -
þangað rjóður rann þá frár, raust svo
hegðar sinni, ærið bróðir ertu sár, ásýnd bregð=
ur þinni. -
Oddi blíðan sýndi sig, sin rögn=
84
glóðum, Hjálmar síðan hjals af stig, hóf upp
sögn í ljóðum,
-
Fjórum sinnum fjögur víst færa snart
í pínu, jeg því finn að eitrið brýst, inn að
hjarta mínu. -
Meðan fæ jeg lagað ljóð, lærðu" og sit
á meðan, láttu hræin lepja blóð, líkið flyt þú
hjeðan.
108..Fólk orustur tvennar tólf todda fár við
háti, hjörs af gust um hildar gólf hvergi sár
jeg þáði.
-
Bráins torgir vals um veg, vann með
þreki ríka, fimtán borgir áður jeg,inn hef tek- *
ið líka. -
Fjörgur bar jeg auðuns yl, ei nam svikja
þorinn, líka var jeg tignar til, tveggja: ríkja
borinn. Br: -
Örugt gekk á mistar mó meður fægð-
an vigur, gyrntist ekkert annað þó utan frægð
og sigur. -
Hels við kinning hinstu mjer, hugar
sæfir tregann, að nú vinning SENA vjer yfir
gnæfanlegar. -
Bana mun jeg bráóla fá, böls af kíngi
85
mörgu, hugur unir meðan má, minn hjá Ihgi-
björgu.
-
Útför skoðuð mey afs mín mjög nú
rætast vildi, við mig boða ljóss þá lín, láðs á
fæti skildi. -
Armlög fengin auðs af fold öndu met
jeg hárri skilnað engin ofar mold eigðan get-
ur sárri. -
Drag mjer hringinn hendi af, hjörfa
raptur stífi, blíð sem Ingibjörg mjer gaf og
berðu hann aptur vífi. -
þönkum núna vík jeg víst vífi frá og
auði, hönd gullbúna hæfir sízt, hafi sá hinn
dauði. -
Vist nábeðar veittu mjer vart þó gillist
baugum mínar ljeðu leifar hjer, líð jeg illa
draugum. -
Mig nú sing jeg hinst af heim, heirn
og mæli dvínar bráins dingju berðu reim bana-
gælur mínar. -
Fleins meðan sporin lögðu leið lífs af
bólmar svæði, hann sín forlög frægð og deyð,
fögru gól í kvæði.
121, Hinst á vorum hróður beið, heyrn og
86
mæli þrotnum öndin fjörug af svo lið, andar
skála brotnum.
-
Eyjar líðir varir við vurðu randa hvini,
haigs að smíði lögðu lið lúnum branda hlini. -
Kappinn snar við kumlin lauk, kinja
branda grana, síðan bar á hömlu hauk Hjálm-
ar andarvana. -
Svo upp togar siglurá, sefrings móa
lundur, gammi voga vænum á, vængjum sló í
sundur. -
Gliggur fyllti gúl á voð gullnu sveipt-
an rúnum, hefring billtist grá að gnoð, grett-
um hleipti brunum. -
Jötuns vængur fleina frey, farar greiða
sendi, kaðla hæng í hægum þei, höfn á þreiða
rendi. -
Hóf upp þróttgur blóðgan beim, bör
hárs glansa svinni, konungs dóttur kom svo
heim kastalans að minni. -
Eptir brekku bauga snar, branda sendi
þráin, hún út gekk og henni þar, hann á
bendir náinn. -
Sagði frjett af sinni ferð sending fljóð
ei duldi, baug fram rjetti brinju sverð, og bana
ljóðin þuldi. -
Hita sjás, nær hafði gná, hlfðt á ljóð ens
þrifna, fjell hún násins ofan á, arma blóði drifna. -
Faðmlög gjalda nánum naut nistis unga
gnáin, hann svo faldi hlýtt í skaut, harma
sprungin dáinn.
87
-
Stólkonnngur sjálfur sá, segz og kvend-
ið fríða, harma þungar hauginn þá, hann gaf
bending smíða. -
Nás þá bærinn veittur var, vina trúu
leifum, Oddur þær inn þangað bar, þreknum
hnúa sveifum. R -
Líks að hofi lása dró, liðs með hörðu
segjum, -þar að ofan þúngum sló, þramar
svörð og neggjum. -
Oddur spjallað gat þá greitt, gekk frá
haugi tjáðum, er mín fallin aðstoð veitt, unn-
ist þau í náðum. -
Vinir klaga um vizku geim, vina hlot-
in bagan, andar dragast úfnir heim, er svo
þrotin sagan. -
Hæfir mjer að hugur minn, hróðrar
kirki. glímur, það skal vera í síðsta sinn, sem
jeg yrki rímur. -
Ár á baki fimm því finn, full áttunda
tugar, sár og brakin muni minn, moldar blund
í hugar. -
Munu keira ljóð í lag, láðs hagyrðu
vinir, njóti þeir sem níta brag, nöldri í kirð-
um hinir. -
Lýtum glundruð ljóðin menn lásu gjör
í vetur, átján hundruð tuttugu tvenn tíu og
sjö ár betur.
88
Barnalegur þanki um byrtu og
dymmnu áf sama höfundi.
-
Völd hafði. Njóla
En víðfaðma
því ann. ei átti hlýra
Skuggi sat í dölum
Enn draum Njörun bauð
Ró of allt sitt ríki. -
Var sem dánar kyrrð
Á drós auðuns
Allt var kyrrð í komið
Sváfu blómstur
Sváfu fiflar
Sváfu lauf og liljur. -
Fleygti sjer skuggi
Á fjörgín alla
Og vildi næði nota
Enn hlýrner allur
Heiðskír gapti
Drós á klædda dymmu. -
Dymt var í heimi
Dauft var lífið N
Ljós ei lífið gladdi
Sá það hinn mikli
Miskunar brunnur
Lífs og ljósa faðir. -
Glitra ljet hann hifin
Hýrleitum stjörnum t
Svo nokkuð birti betur
89
þó ei fullnóg
Að fæla skugga
Eins lá hann kyrr gem áður.
. Ljet þá almáttkur
Ljósa hríslur
Fleygast fram um hifin
Gullnu belti þau
Betur lístu
Enn stjörnur Í fjærlægð staddar.
. Yðandi spriklandi
Elding líkast
Norðurljós það nefnum
Föður ljósanna
Fannst þó ekki
Birta næg til búin.
því gaf hann fjörgín
Furðu stóran
Ljóshnött líkan gulli
Sá varð skugga
Skemdar fæla
En börs það brútur gladdi.
Mána ljós þetta
þó megnaði varma
Fjörgín engan færa
Ti og birtu vildi
Í eining saman
Skapa hilmir hæða.
Og ljós það senda
Sameinað varma
Sem líf og fögnuð færði
1l.
12:
90
Ljet hann því skapta
Skínandi sunnu
Fegra fæst ei líta.
Engin dautleg
Augu megna
Birtu meiri" af-bera
Hita ljær sunna
Holdi fjórnar
Líf og ljóma sendir.
Helltist þá geisla flóð
Ur hafi ljósa
Of allt sem nöfnum nefnist
Teigaði þá allt
Sem til var skapað
Ljóss og varma veigar.
Gladdist þá uppljómuð
Autuns kvinna
Hlý og hýr og fögur
Gladdist þá allt
Sem geisla naut
En skuggi skreið í felur.
14s Elti hann sunnu ljós
Og útlægan gjörði
Svo hvergi við gat haldist
Sáu menn hinnst
Hann hjelt í útnorður
Og sier í haf þar sökkti.
Speigladi sig himins
Her gjörvallur
Í lignum þrumu linda
18,
vl
Glóti þá allt
Með geisla strjáli
En storð var fangin furðu.
Sem skærasti speigill
Með spriklandi ljóma
Hafið mót himni breiddist
Hló öll náttúran
Og hýr varð fjörgín
þó skreið ei skuggi úr felum.
En þegar eigló
Endað hafði
Sitt hlaup sirkil-myndað
Og útbýtt geislum
allar síður
Hvíldist hún um tíma.
Læddist þá skuggi út *
Og lagðist á fjörgín
Höf og hauður faldi
þar til en dýra
Drottning ljósa
Geisla skarti skrýddist.
Fór þá enn skuggi
Í felur, því að
Ljós fælinn er löngum
Dvínar ei þetta
Meðan dymma og ljós
Haldast, við í heimi.
Ekki! er Sefa far,
Innlæst í hrofi
þá lítur ljósum glitra
92
Hlýrner og æger
En hold fjötruð önd
Otar vonar árum.
21. Og vill himin fleyg
Fá að skoða
Lífs og ljósa brunna
Þþars ginnunga gap
Getur ei hamlað
Mærri muna skoðun.
Er mjer tamur einn brestur
— Ólund rama lama —
Veikja ama vín = hrestur
Og vekja gaman sama.
HE. Jónsson.
Source Colophon
Source: Rímur af Hjálmari hugum stóra. Kveðnar af sveitalækni Hallgrími Jónssyni á Miklagarði í Skagafirði. Kostnaðarmaður: Grímur Laxdal. Akureyri, 1859. Prentaðar í prentsmiðju Norður- og Austurumdæmisins, hjá H. Helgasyni. Digitized by Internet Archive.
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