by Sigurður Breiðfjörð

Fourteen rímur composed by Sigurður Breiðfjörð (1798–1846), published at Viðey Cloister in 1831. The cycle retells the Jómsvíkinga saga — one of the great Viking Age narratives — in alliterative, rhymed verse. The Jómsvíkings were the legendary Norse mercenary brotherhood of Jómsborg: bound by oath, no man over fifty or under eighteen, no fleeing in battle, no women within the walls. The saga follows them from the founding of the fortress through the catastrophic Battle of Hjörungavágr.

The cycle spans five generations of warriors: Tóki of Sjóni and his feuding sons; Pálnatóki, the archer who assassinated King Haraldr Bluetooth and fled to found Jómsborg; Búi the Stout, who fought with both hands cut off and leapt into the sea clutching his gold; Vagn Ákason, the boy-warrior who entered the brotherhood at twelve and survived the execution block at Hjörungavágr; and Sigvaldi the Treacherous, who fled the battle and was scorned by his wife Ástríður: "In wheat-fields you have lain while others fought."

Breiðfjörð — who also composed the Rímur of Gísli Súrsson, the Rímur of Tístrani and Indiana, and numerous other cycles — brings the full apparatus of the rímur tradition: mansöngvar (invocations to the muse), kennings, shifting meters from ríma to ríma, and the distinctive Icelandic practice of retelling prose narratives in ornate stanzaic verse.

The 1831 edition was printed in Fraktur (Gothic blackletter) typeface at Viðey Cloister. This translation was produced by reading the Fraktur directly from the scanned pages of the original edition. Some readings remain uncertain due to the systematic character distortions inherent in Fraktur digitization. This is the first known English translation of Breiðfjörð's Jómsvíkingarímur.

Fyrsta Ríma — First Ríma

Mansöngur

I.
In the east a new day's star
draws near and starts to shine;
the morning-redness' cheerful face
stirs up these thoughts of mine.

II.
Unsought, beside the font of sound,
I come to song's own seat,
to those who know the stuff of verse
still something more to meet.

III.
I lack, in winter's darkened hour,
when hearth-fire slumbers cold,
the power to revive their mood —
if fairly verse were told.

IV.
But thou — divine Goddess! —
who grants such gifts as these,
I come again to call on thee:
come to me, if you please!

V.
Turn from thy lofty throne
and look with gentle eyes;
let me behold thee, radiant one,
and calm my anxious sighs.

VI.
Strengthen thou my power and soul,
as once in days of old;
lay thy hand upon my head
and help me shape these words.

VII.
"My son! Come to my singing-hall;
I shall lend my ear;
lay thy verse upon my breast —
I have the craft to shear."

VIII.
"I lend to thee my power full,
a worthy song to make;
I heal thy heart as well, and so
beside me thou shalt wake."

IX.
When I hear those blessed words
fall upon my listening ear,
I set myself at the singing-board,
signed by her hand sincere.

X.
Rise, wakened ones, to verses here!
Awake, thou who dost sleep!
The mansöngur is standing done;
the tale begins to leap.

The Saga Begins

XI.
A man named Tóki I shall name,
first sounded in my song;
in Denmark he possessed a shire —
at Sjóni, fair and strong.

XII.
There lived a valiant thane most bold,
and Þóra was his wife;
with him the maiden nobly shared
the mother's twofold life.

XIII.
Úfi was the elder son,
of nobler Pálnir born;
and Tóki had a bastard lad
whom we called Kjólnir-sworn.

XIV.
Old Tóki yielded up his breath,
and likewise died his bride;
their goods and lands to both sons fell,
set down on either side.

XV.
The kinsman thought the halving fair —
the foster-sons agreed —
but what the elder ought to take
Kjólnir judged with greed.

XVI.
"I want my portion whole!" he cried;
the stone-faced brother stood.
"That's settled," Pálnir answered cold —
Kjólnir thought it good.

XVII.
"I will have my portion all!"
Úfi's face grew keen.
"Nay," said Pálnir, "that is fair:
the share is split between."

XVIII.
Kjólnir, angered, took to road;
he found Sigurð the brave,
who sailed before the winds of war
upon the restless wave.

XIX.
Kjólnir was a man of wit,
and wise in craft and art;
he bore great hatred in his breast
against his brother's part.

XX.
And over all the Danish ground,
when elder foes did close,
no one grew more greatly feared
than Áki's son who rose.

XXI.
Each summer forth to raiding went
the viking's tested sword;
the warriors swallowed wind and wave —
a song of slender word.

XXII.
Kjólnir speaks and sends a sign —
so hard the deed to do:
"It seems to me I too am one
who ought to rule the Dane-land true."

XXIII.
While Áki keeps his seat up there,
with all his battle-train,
the elder kinsman holds the chair —
let others come and reign.

XXIV.
In Gautland Áki found a feast;
he won a welcome good
from Ottar Jarl; the ring-friend hailed
the warriors' brotherhood.

XXV.
Áki sailed with sails of blue,
with hundred warriors brave;
the masts like reeds rose over them —
they rode upon the wave.

XXVI.
A while he stayed with Ottar Jarl
for many moons and more;
then southward set his prow to find
new kingdoms on the shore.

XXVII.
King Haraldr sent his men to fetch —
for Áki stood on land;
they sailed his ship upon the coast,
their masts against the sand.

XXVIII.
A hundred men sailed out to meet,
to find and fell the bold;
Áki's strength they wished to test —
half their host were cold.

XXIX.
The warships closed with binding ropes,
the chariot-steeds did run;
they found the spear-field's burning edge —
the fighting had begun.

XXX.
Those were not faint who stood the field;
before this war-host spread,
they forged the iron-play in shields,
and laid the brave-ones dead.

XXXI.
Áki had both wit and might;
when kin-wolves came to call,
his men were never first to flee —
and so he'd risk it all.

XXXII.
With ship and stock to Haraldr's home
he brought his battle-won;
the king received the warrior back
as a favoured, trusted son.

XXXIII.
A splendid journey — fit and bold —
I speak now next of Áki still;
in Denmark's throne he had the hold
that men obeyed at will.

XXXIV.
Kjólnir asked him — speak he would —
what seemed of little weight to him;
that he had given much he could
to get his brother's favour dim.

XXXV.
This word came back to Sjóni's shore;
there Pálnir heard the news:
his brother's death, and nothing more —
the grief he drank like bruise.

XXXVI.
So great was Pálnir's harm and woe;
it crept beneath his breast
like song become despair — and so
his thoughts would find no rest.

XXXVII.
A foster-brother held he dear,
whom men called Sigurðr bold;
both strong and winsome was the man —
a friend worth more than gold.

XXXVIII.
Pálnir sought his counsel red —
a righteous man to find —
if any path could be the thread
to vengeance of the kind.

XXXIX.
Sigurður answered: "Not to war;
instead I'll serve thee well.
I'll give my hand and hold thee near;
my household'll be thy shell."

XL.
Pálnir answers, turns his thought
upon the mind-stone's line:
"Where stands thy purpose, what is wrought?
How shall I weigh thy sign?"

XLI.
Sigurður says to him in speech:
"A token I shall bring —
a girl whose worth is out of reach,
the daughter of a king.

XLII.
No little thing, but fit and good —
take what I now would name —
accept my health and brotherhood,
and build upon this frame."

XLIII.
Sigurður sailed through every land
and found the foreign hill;
he rode a horse across the sand
with eighty men of skill.

XLIV.
In Gautland Ottar heard the fame;
the name of Pálnir bore
a weight, and Ottar marked the man
of many things in store.

XLV.
He was no feeble, fearful thing,
no snake beneath the worm;
let all be brought to end and ring —
a man of noble form.

XLVI.
And so it fell, as stories tell,
the Jarl would fetch her home;
his daughter proud, named fair and well —
her name was Ingibjörg.

XLVII.
Sigurður then sailed home with bride;
the wedding oaths were sealed;
they brimmed the cup at Pálnir's side —
all sorrow's wound was healed.

XLVIII.
Ottar Jarl and Ingibjörg went east;
the household grew and more;
they sought the golden bridal feast
upon the Danish shore.

XLIX.
The first night of their marriage-bed —
the questions, sweet to hear —
a dream came falling on her head
in blood, and woke her fear.

L.
"I thought—" she said — " a vision stood—"
upon this court-yard — there a beast
all venom-clad did roar,
and with a staff the creature beat
upon the ground and more."

LI.
"The beast, I thought, was grey and grim;
I sought to shake it loose;
I tore it from the branch and limb —
but could not pull it free."

LII.
"It was the head of Haraldr, lord
of all the Danish shore;
I woke just as the vision stirred —"
She spoke these dreaming words.

LIII.
"Better dreamt than nothing said!"
So Pálnir spun his thought.
"I also like the dream," he said —
"a third may find what's sought."

LIV.
Ingibjörg bore a child and stout,
an heir beyond all harm;
and Pálnatóki was his name —
he grew up there at Sjóni's farm.

LV.
A man of finest worth and way,
and strong as oak was he;
in valour, beauty, wisdom too —
beloved equally.

LVI.
Before the lad had gained full strength
of sword-arm and of will,
his father's death-sickness came at length —
the son took charge at Sjóni still.

LVII.
In warlike journeys, young and keen,
when Pálnir's bane had come,
he rode the sea-steeds' rolling green
and hammered vikings dumb.

LVIII.
The sword among the wealthy ones —
his power won renown;
to most men, braver than their sons —
his father's brother's crown.

LIX.
A Jarl I must now name in verse —
of Breton land the lord;
Stefnir was his name, and blest —
he prospered long in hoard.

LX.
One daughter only — Óluf named —
this lord of battle bore;
her beauty's fame spread wide, acclaimed
across the ocean's shore.

LXI.
Pálnatóki and his host
sailed out on warships keen;
they drove across the icy coast,
their oar-steeds swift and clean.

LXII.
He wished to raid the borderland;
the sword spoke at the shore.
The peace-lord held his steady hand
and offered him a feast therefore.

LXIII.
This Tóki gladly took in hand,
with friendship's gentle word;
the company drank in hall so grand
and sipped the wine unstirred.

LXIV.
He wedded Óluf — iron-tried —
the prince's daughter fair;
the feast stood firm in all its pride,
a bridal threefold rare.

LXV.
The Jarl's name too, as gift, he gave
to noble hands outspread;
both gold and honour, all he'd crave —
until the Jarl lay dead.

LXVI.
And after this the ships were turned;
Tóki set forth to sea.
He placed the Breton Björn as lord —
who'd been the bride's trustee.

LXVII.
And so the warrior readied home,
to hold the rightful reign;
his bride should follow — over foam —
and walk the sea-road's lane.

LXVIII.
They cast their moorings, agile band,
from shore to ship and on;
they spurred the sea-steeds from the land
and drew their cargo home.

LXIX.
Best that I not halt my praise —
I've spent the given hour;
enough is wrought in all these lays:
there stands the First Ríma's bower!

Önnur Ríma — Second Ríma

Mansöngur

I.
The spirit's screen shall stand here open,
unfold for you, wise men —
one more branch of wisdom to display.

II.
The harp-string, stiffened, scarcely stirs;
often it has slipped, but never worse —
a poem slipping from my hands.

III.
Often I grow weary, all joy spent
in these good ears of mine —
yet still the verses must go on.

IV.
From confinement and winter's creeping cold,
sluggish and dull within me —
I can scarcely compose a verse.

V.
It was different then, at gatherings of men;
I could ladle the mead-vat dry,
and found many toasts to raise.

VI.
It was different then, in the hall of the Danes;
I won the dance among lords,
and found fair passage on the wave.

VII.
It was different then in Copenhagen —
play and sport by the tall houses,
to hear it all and see it too.

VIII.
It was different then, pouring draughts for others,
sitting at labor in the west —
and fashioning verse-endings there.

IX.
Then life was light as gentle breezes;
when I sang my verses wide —
now you want still more to glide toward.

X.
Though I try to forge these verses,
spent of power in every place —
I would tell no one of that.

XI.
Somehow, though, I wished to say my piece —
my fair promise given —
and stretch the mansöngur no longer.

The Saga Continues

XII.
Pálnatóki, steadfast, set out from the land,
driving ships across the sea's broad field;
the sails thrashed in the hard wind.

XIII.
The vessel shuddered, rocking under waves;
the prow plowed through the sound ahead,
the wise craft's breast thrust down.

XIV.
The sea-road's treasure they saw from the ship arise,
and dance toward Denmark's shore;
the warriors' feet stepped on the sand.

XV.
Home at Sjóni he bound his gaze to shore;
the Jarl sat among his holdings,
gathering the greatest share of wealth.

XVI.
None seemed — save the king himself —
more famed for gold and serpent-fire
throughout all the Danish lands.

XVII.
Haraldr Bluetooth held broad court;
far he went to visit folk,
feasting alongside trusted men.

XVIII.
Pálnatóki gained the prince's good favor,
feasting in the way of friends;
people gathered — he arrived soon.

XIX.
He stayed long; a woman was brought for him —
the maiden served the household well;
they called her Esa by repute.

XX.
Saumæsa, she was known, and splendid —
also named within that hall;
she served as well as any could.

XXI.
Honored with praise and gifts, the king rode home;
she with the same faithful service stayed —
things took their course from there.

XXII.
Tóki learned a troubling rumor then:
who has embraced so closely
the smooth-limbed mistress of his house?

XXIII.
"Haraldr the king took his pleasure with me;
too much, indeed" — so the verse declares —
"I had to allow him that."

XXIV.
In time the woman bore her fruit:
she brought forth a boy named Sveinn —
no harm befell the child at all.

XXV.
With Tóki the boy was raised in those days,
until he reached three winters old;
then the prince came there to feast.

XXVI.
When the lords sat over cups at table,
Esa came in with Sveinn
and walked up straight before the king.

XXVII.
"Good lord!" — thus she softly spoke —
"behold this child before you here:
you alone are truly his father!"

XXVIII.
He asked the woman's name and rank,
the ruler of men; the maiden then
would tell the truth of it entire.

XXIX.
"You are, woman!" — the king spoke thus —
"insolent and foolish wretch!
I think my enemies have put you up to this!"

XXX.
"That you dare show yourself before our eyes,
pressing your claim again and again —
you had better stop this flat."

XXXI.
"If you press this matter any further,
I will have you hurt for it —
this child I shall never claim."

XXXII.
Tóki then spoke up before the chieftain:
"Few would dare to speak such words —
the maiden blushes but does not waver."

XXXIII.
The king replied: "I did not expect this —
that you would involve yourself here,
defending this foolish woman."

XXXIV.
The Jarl answered: "As you please, my lord,
I will keep silent on the matter;
but someone must look after the boy."

XXXV.
"Let Sveinn be raised within our halls,
with honor at every turn,
as though he were your very son."

XXXVI.
"So be it" — the king made answer —
"though the boy find honor from you,
that is no concern of mine."

XXXVII.
After that the king departed homeward;
peace was laid upon the matter,
and enough of peace was made.

XXXVIII.
This is told: that very same winter,
Óluf bore a young child —
the family's branch grew strong again.

XXXIX.
Ása they named the little girl, and let her
grow up there at Sjóni's farm;
the old couple loved that child.

XL.
Sveinn likewise stayed there with the Jarl,
until he reached fifteen winters;
then Tóki sought a meeting with the boy.

XLI.
"You may go" — thus answered Tóki —
"find Haraldr, your father,
and remind him of old dealings."

XLII.
"Claim forces from him, and plainly
say you are his son."
Then Sveinn departed for the king's land.

XLIII.
Just as Tóki had cleverly instructed,
he set forth his errand to the king;
the ruler turned away in anger.

XLIV.
Thus Haraldr spoke harshly to the youth:
"I do not accept this claim —
from Esa's lap is all you are."

XLV.
"You are a fool and worthless scoundrel,
low-born wretch and wretched swine —
just like your mother before you."

XLVI.
The boy replied: "I would have held my tongue, father,
had I been born of nobler woman —
but your own guardianship speaks for itself."

XLVII.
"You yourself chose this woman's embrace;
I am truly your son —
so says my mother to this day."

XLVIII.
"Three ships I ask you to provide —
and if you dare refuse me this,
the blade shall answer what your words cannot."

XLIX.
Then the king answered Sveinn in rage:
"I shall give you those old hulks —
but I never wish to see you again."

L.
Three vessels the offended king had readied;
he ordered them given to Sveinn,
with a hundred neighbors sent aboard.

LI.
Three ships at Sjóni the young lion tested,
fitted out for Sveinn, then set forth —
pure of heart, to prove himself at sea.

LII.
In many places about his father's realm,
with his band of men and kept good peace,
he raided all throughout the summer.

LIII.
He burned the farmers' homes and plundered wealth;
the people told the king of this,
but the king paid it no mind.

LIV.
Home to Sjóni the hero sailed on his ships;
in a gentle autumn breeze he came,
and stayed at home that quiet winter.

LV.
Come next spring he dared repeat the same —
six warships the king let him have,
with anger and threats of death.

LVI.
Again he set out from Sjóni's coast,
fitted out and sailed away —
across the land the raiding spread.

LVII.
In Zealand, grim as any fiend,
he slaughtered the king's folk with the sword;
the land was stained with crimson blood.

LVIII.
Some fled, losing property and homes;
the king still paid no heed,
though his own people bore the harm.

LIX.
To Sjóni the hero returned in autumn;
through winter quiet he stayed once more —
in spring he gathered men again.

LX.
With his fleet and all his clever warriors,
the king's own son sought out his father;
the bold one pressed his claim still harder.

LXI.
He demanded twelve ships from the king;
the noble heir was granted them:
"Mighty bold you are, Sveinn!"

LXII.
"It is a wonder — none I know of greater —
that you dare, lord of ships,
to come again into our sight!"

LXIII.
"With sword and fire upon my realm you fall;
you deserve the gallows, wretch!
I shall never deal with you."

LXIV.
The boy replied: "If I do not get those ships,
I challenge you to battle —
if you dare come out and fight."

LXV.
The king said: "Let it not come to that —
I give you the ships instead;
begone, and never come back to me!"

LXVI.
Now sixty nail-bound ships had Sveinn;
he sailed home once again,
and told Tóki all that had transpired.

LXVII.
The Jarl welcomed the fine war-leader:
"I name you a trusty champion —
well done!" — he said.

LXVIII.
"By custom, harry the Danish realm
this summer, friend! You shall —
and do not weaken now."

LXIX.
"Now the king will bear your raids no longer,
though complaints may pile against you;
no one can cut down such a man."

LXX.
"I shall come and sit nearby to watch;
to Brittany I go first —
then with my warband I return."

LXXI.
They fell silent; then both put to sea,
from the land onto the blue expanse,
the sails thundering against the yard.

LXXII.
Raiding in his custom, Sveinn laid waste
to Danish ground, making thunder day and night;
the king's kindred bore it ill.

LXXIII.
The king declared: "This cannot stand;
let us have peace between us" —
and he fitted out fifty ships.

LXXIV.
The king himself sailed with his lords,
to Bornholm there;
in the autumn the steel-play began.

LXXV.
Then evening came — so that none could
settle the fierce disputes between them;
the peace of night was called.

LXXVI.
I must stop — the praise grows thin;
the dwarves' ship is broken now,
and the verse is broken too for me.

Þriðja Ríma — Third Ríma

Mansöngur

I.
Let the feet of notes sit in their row,
the wine of song shall sound —
let the eager ember learn to sing,
ringing in the strings of verse.

II.
It was the custom of noble peoples —
one may trust this from of old —
for poets to be well content,
composing in the evening hours.

III.
When gladly they recited verse
in the serpent-wall's golden grounds,
the rushing music grew ever louder
in the darkening hours.

IV.
The skilled maiden is still the same,
the ice-sea's green companion —
she who is never said to deny
the virtuous poet's call.

V.
I recall gazing on that good spring
that eased your hardships,
when the well-known red Rose
swayed upon the wine-stone.

VI.
The linden-lady wrought both weight and ease —
for long this endured;
no love-song could be composed
without her at hand.

VII.
Here at the outset my sworn words
I have resolved to break —
not one word of joy to you
have I yet let come forth.

VIII.
In two love-songs I have wandered here
and hollow was the verse —
not one stanza wrought for you,
yet at home I have you, Rose!

IX.
The pledge of Christendom demands
that this must be amended —
you forgiving, good-natured one,
the serpent-path's reward.

X.
Though the valiant woman never hears
the branches of praise grow weak,
she shall dream of precious hours
beside her only beloved.

XI.
I cannot speak more to you,
fair lady, though I wish to —
farewell, hall! For my tale
waits in the open.

Narrative

XII.
On the dwarf-gold day, bright and clear,
it drew to the eyes of men
when Haraldr, Sjólni, and Sveinn
lay their rudders alongside.

XIII.
The warriors raised their host upon the field,
cooling their ardor for a time;
swords struck the shields' price
and cut the prows' bright roses.

XIV.
Heroes' blood colored
the realm of the sea's floor;
all day the battle stood
through the hours before evening.

XV.
Scabbards were emptied in a flash,
great spears clashed crosswise;
ten were the king's ships broken,
and twelve of Sveinn's.

XVI.
Sveinn then drove into the bay —
wagons carried weapons ashore;
in the fjord's mouth the bold one knew
how to prepare his warships.

XVII.
Then from the seaweed-floor westward,
with the throne's full strength,
Tóki launched twice-twelve ships
before the fjord's headland.

XVIII.
He pitched his tents by the cool sand,
sent forth the river's flame;
one evening he went up on land
with arrows and with bows.

XIX.
Haraldr met Sjólni that same hour —
soon, before the nightfall —
upon the broad green ground
with warriors four and eight.

XX.
In the house they played at games
and warmed themselves by fire;
the flames baked them well —
the prince shed his garments.

XXI.
The company grew by turns,
enjoying the warmth;
Pálnatóki on the road I find —
he sees the fire's glow.

XXII.
He thought it right to know the prince
there among the host of men;
forward he went swiftly
and laid an arrow on the string.

XXIII.
He drew the bow with cunning craft,
the great sea-destroyer —
in through the king and out through his belly,
the shaft found its quiet place.

XXIV.
The king soon found his bane,
wounds multiplied at that place;
the lord of Danes lay fallen —
Tóki departed from there.

XXV.
To his men he hastened swiftly,
many were washed in grief;
the great mourning host
sought to still their sorrow.

XXVI.
Sjólni was among that company
who could tell of the death;
when the grey one's passing was known,
all warriors fell silent.

XXVII.
Then rumor came to them as well —
if the cheerful bore it true —
that in the battle-storms
the king had been struck down.

XXVIII.
Sjólni finds the arrow lodged
in the earth-road's stone;
let him guard it well himself
and show it to no man.

XXIX.
Hard upon the mind's turmoil,
shaking the serpent's calm,
with twenty men Tóki went
to find the noble Sveinn.

XXX.
He finds him and goes with care,
the ring-wearing lord;
but to no man would Tóki reveal
the manner of the prince's death.

XXXI.
Sveinn was glad of this meeting;
then they set to making plans.
Tóki says: "The ships must
be drawn swiftly from their berths.

XXXII.
"It is ill to sit here indoors
while your men go idle;
to the cross-fleet we must go
and row like true seamen."

XXXIII.
The fleet's company sat to the oars
so that soon their hands grew warm;
three ferries broke apart,
the fleet splitting asunder.

XXXIV.
Tóki's crew was well accustomed
to voyage on the broad sea;
out through the mild waters
they rowed all their warships.

XXXV.
Fear fell upon that other fleet
and found the host of warriors
when the prince's men at morning
all together put to sea.

XXXVI.
They were told of the lord's death;
the company in the peaceful hall —
the Jarl, alert, took heed
and came forward now and spoke:

XXXVII.
"Before this stone I declare:
swiftly finds his death
whoever does not accept Sveinn
as sole king of the Danes."

XXXVIII.
The company agreed to peace
where none would raise a sword;
the king's title was then won —
wise Sveinn was to take it.

XXXIX.
He took command of treasury and land,
and wealth was given freely;
the king bade his loyal men
drink his father's memorial ale.

XL.
Tóki first asked leave to go —
went to Bretland on his errand;
in the autumn the work was done
and he let the matter rest.

XLI.
He prepared his household well,
securing a fair reward,
and set Áki as his heir
over the estate at Sjóni.

XLII.
To the land of Britons he went forth
with his treasury spent;
governance there he took up,
for Jarl Stefnir was dead.

XLIII.
He waited for the weather,
accustomed to wise counsel;
then Sveinn sent a clear message
to Pálnatóki.

XLIV.
Warriors carry the message:
the letters' content he grasps —
the king invites him to a feast;
the weapon-tester bids him come.

XLV.
But he gave account in reply,
saying he could not go;
the year's labors bade him stay —
he wondered at the earnest summons.

XLVI.
At last now in the summer's stay,
Sveinn with the red mead
prepares the inheritance-ale
after his father's death.

XLVII.
"To Tóki send again the word
and bid him to the feast;
anger shall be his companion
if now he does not come."

XLVIII.
He put an end to many harsh words
and bade them carry his answer:
"Best that I prepare at Sjóli's.
The feast I shall attend."

XLIX.
Warriors turned from the hall
to bring the king the answer;
Sveinn therefore prepared the feast,
lacking nothing at all.

L.
With great preparation he bids the crowd,
generosity proceeding;
the day of the memorial feast arrives —
the Jarl does not come.

LI.
The happy people drank their fill,
joy was known in the hall;
the high-seat stood adorned
but empty — for Jarl Tóki.

LII.
Then it is told of Þorgils —
he came sailing in
with a hundred men and three,
riding from the land.

LIII.
Half were Danes about the tarn,
the others were English;
Björn of Brest followed him,
bear of great strength.

LIV.
So the thanes prepared themselves
and loaded the heavy ships;
they turned their prows from land
and laid their oars to sea.

LV.
So to the hall they came at last,
the people from their homesteads;
the Jarl sat down with his men
at the feast's brimming cups.

LVI.
Sjólni sat beside the lord
and composed a pointed verse;
red-faced he sat upon his seat —
and Sjólni's answer came.

LVII.
The cliff's youth, great Sjólni,
thrust a thing into his hands;
four long years he'd kept it —
the golden shaft now turned.

LVIII.
"Do you know this, man?" he asked —
the crafty one had spoken.
"Before — is there none of these
thanes — who knows this thing?"

LIX.
Sveinn draws the shaft forth,
examines it closely;
the Jarl was there to see —
"And who," he asks, "knows this?"

LX.
"The arrow I have!" answers the Jarl —
"and know it well indeed;
into these hands it came, man!
It was I who drew it forth."

LXI.
"Where did you aim that arrow?"
asked the cunning prince.
"To you shall that tale be told,
Sveinn!" said Pálnatóki.

LXII.
"My bow I drew with all my might —
remember!" said the stern Jarl.
"When the shaft in your father's side
found its place — that was my last deed."

LXIII.
The warrior rose in anger then
and thus declared to his men:
"Slay all the thralls now!"
He stood upon his feet.

LXIV.
The Jarl — that bear — drew his sword
and bit thus asunder:
Sjólni's broad shoulders he struck,
cleaving the man in two.

LXV.
Then warriors leapt from the hall,
the shields rang in the doorway;
the company wished to hold him in,
but the Jarl burst through.

LXVI.
Out of the house all at once
they rushed to the tarn's edge;
the English man was missing still —
he was from Björn's company.

LXVII.
No less was the dread; the Jarl
had managed his escape.
Björn gave this answer:
"He must have fallen."

LXVIII.
Björn hastened back to the hall —
swift in the time of need;
the bold hero came into their hands,
seeking death in that hall.

LXIX.
Now upon the warships they prepare,
loaded from the land;
the bright sail spreads on the knarr,
cold wind blows across the mile.

LXX.
Under the stout vessel's ride,
plundering the fair sea-places,
the broad sail torn asunder,
beaten by the storm's blasts.

LXXI.
The wave-horses on the long sea
could hardly make their way;
the wind's breath was heavy then,
bending the thin hull.

LXXII.
Sang in the rigging, creaked and moaned,
the cargo in the mightiest four;
by England's shore the people came,
anchored and made fast.

LXXIII.
The lord's helm turns on the high wheel,
the mind's strength is worn;
the ríma runs out — then it is well,
this one is finished.

Fjórða Ríma — Fourth Ríma

Mansöngur

I.
This counsel of glory I would raise —
to the silent norn of folded headress —
if I might fashion verse anew
and strike the ancient song once more.

II.
For this subject I search my mind,
but ease and sloth gather round me;
all is carried forth as if in sleep —
once we composed far better verse.

III.
The power-spindle I turn here —
the sun-stone proves it true —
the spirit of song has died,
the worthy multitude's leaf withers.

IV.
When across the angelica-heath I'm borne,
the steed upon the straight path,
to the Westman Islands —
there the tidings of song await.

V.
Rose conceals her lovely gaze,
and sorely does it grieve me;
between us stands the ice-cold distance —
and between, alas — the worse for it!

VI.
I know the seething burn of it —
another sees the story in the vale —
but in these wide destinies,
misfortune bewilders me.

VII.
Such is the way of things:
hoarse and weary I attain it;
hope may yet grant me comfort,
this verse-smith in his place.

VIII.
But there the folk would have it so,
and guard against the ill that comes.
The love-song ends, all fully told —
hereafter the saga shall be heard.

Narrative

IX.
Where the ríma left off last,
great deeds reached their haven;
homeward at the same time to the hall,
the warriors trod the chosen path.

X.
Next summer sorrows drew near
the wise folk in the fortress;
the bright sun of Tóki's line
grew bold and won renown.

XI.
Long upon the land they stayed,
no longer bearing ring-gifts forth;
thence the warriors sailed away,
bold youths upon their keels.

XII.
Following Björn of Bretland's lead,
the fortresses free to rule —
deep in sorrow's thirst-pool plunged,
three times he readied ships.

XIII.
Away from the land the chieftain sailed,
the helm-adorned son of war —
he went raiding over land and sea;
the vikings dealt out death.

XIV.
Over Irish and Scots he loosed his force,
laying blows in the sleet-storm;
the reddened swords gnawed deep enough —
great battle-strife he ruled.

XV.
Three summers in warfare he spent,
the warrior gathering treasure;
then to Wendland he turned his course,
steering the longship's prow.

XVI.
Forty ships about the fjord —
Sveinn the Bold then holds his own;
in that land to build a fortress
King Búrisleifr allowed.

XVII.
Pálnatóki — that bold one —
the prince fears above all men;
therefore he takes counsel with him,
to test the fortress-claim the most.

XVIII.
He offers him a hall and land;
to the place Tóki came,
the generous one, gentle-worded —
he spoke to him in turn:

XIX.
"A meeting at my wine-bench I would have,"
the brave one spoke aloud,
"and give good warriors employment —
the land at Jóm it's called."

XX.
"Defend this land as yours," said he,
"the pact between us sealed!"
The warrior answered "Yes!" —
to the best of princes he replied.

XXI.
The sword-lord treads the market-square,
bound now for governance —
he goes to Jóm and builds the fortress,
bold serpent of the dale.

XXII.
The hall he crafts with care —
the sea-channel flowing in —
half standing in the water it rose,
wide and high the building.

XXIII.
A harbor he prepared there, wide,
for the storm's war-stallions;
three hundred in the measured space —
the sea-hounds could lie at rest.

XXIV.
Across the way where ships were kept,
a stone arch rose with fitted gates;
the warriors marveled there
at wonders craftsmen wrought.

XXV.
The harbor's dangers stood now stilled,
with iron-blue gates fastened;
upon the stone arch's brow
the building stands wondrously high.

XXVI.
The sea-paths close behind them —
the gate-bolt strikes and holds;
no vessel may row within
without the captain's leave.

XXVII.
Fame's acclaim about the fine fortress —
the buildings won renown;
it was called on Jóm: Jómaborg —
the Jómsvíkings dwelt there.

XXVIII.
Pálnatóki sets the laws
for the fortress-folk to keep,
composed in words both firm and true —
pain and sorrow shall depart.

XXIX.
The beginning of their laws is this:
no man older shall be admitted
than fifty winters of age —
all must keep the commandments.

XXX.
No one may be younger
than eighteen winters in this place;
should anything arise to judge,
Tóki shall decide it all.

XXXI.
Though a man sees death before him,
no warrior may flee,
nor in the direst need
may he speak a cowardly word.

XXXII.
Slander and false accusations
are forbidden among the men;
all such matters Tóki judges,
placing them beneath the law.

XXXIII.
And further: should strife arise
within the warriors' hall,
no man may be absent thence
longer than three nights.

XXXIV.
As sworn brothers there,
each one must avenge the other —
however sharp the wounds may be,
though it cost him no small pain.

XXXV.
No woman may be taken,
nor any maiden embraced —
was this truly so? Curse that law!
This sworn article — it is ugly!

XXXVI.
With these laws the company sat
awhile in Jómaborg;
with sword-strokes the army won
and raided far abroad.

XXXVII.
Every land they pressed into,
attacking heroes far and wide;
prevailing over nations thus,
the Jómsvíkings were esteemed.

XXXVIII.
I turn the tale from their travels now —
the end of the grey one draws near —
a Jarl who bore Haraldr's name
ruled over Sjáland's shores.

XXXIX.
Strút-Haraldr was he called,
a warrior of fine renown —
because he wore his high headdress,
laden with ten marks of gold.

XL.
Strút-Haraldr had a son
who bore strength enough;
Sigvaldi was he called,
and Þorkell was the other.

XLI.
The Jarl had one fair daughter,
young and lovely to behold;
the folk called her Tófa —
let us leave her waiting now.

XLII.
Then Veseti the farmer dwelt
in Bornholm in a dwelling fine;
with his good wife he lived,
and to them a boy was born.

XLIII.
Worthy Búi, the farmer's son —
whom even chieftains seldom named —
among the folk in the land he stood:
he feared no man alive.

XLIV.
Sigurður Kápa was his kinsman,
of the sun-road's noble line;
at the stroke of battle he never flinched —
Þorgunna was his sister.

XLV.
That woman was taken as a wife
by the counsel of the Danes;
Áki, Tóki's faithful son,
led her to his bed.

XLVI.
With Þorgunna he had one son —
he keeps his dwelling there at Sjóni —
the sea-tree of battle's promise:
Vagn was the boy called.

XLVII.
He at Sjóni made his home;
Áki's fortune stood at best —
the sword-kinsman watched his years,
for the lad's boldness grew the most.

XLVIII.
He was bold and bitter-natured,
struck at men wherever he stood;
never did Áki's heir show fear —
a terror to every folk.

XLIX.
In Bornholm here,
with Veseti he chose to dwell,
sometimes light in his loyalty —
though his will desired the better.

L.
Ill it was to provoke that line —
exceedingly bold in strife was he;
he loved all contention:
the beatings, blows, and cuttings.

LI.
Westward he and Búi were;
his commands he sometimes enforced —
whatever else the people said,
no one dared to judge him.

LII.
This though true of the saga:
though his pranks seemed harsh,
he was beloved of all men —
of worth and might in his time.

LIII.
Búi's uncle on his mother's side —
not easily known for learning —
quiet in his bearing, more than a man's,
bore the might of war-serpents.

LIV.
Battle-fierce and powerful,
often he bore victory in combat;
dark-tempered, terse in speech —
his worth was proved by deeds.

LV.
He who bore true valiance:
Sigurður Kápa, Búi's brother —
a greatly tall man he was,
the greatest champion in the steel-dance.

LVI.
Of Sigvaldi the saga tells —
the true findings aid the tale;
never did his travels bring him peace,
that sun of his kin.

LVII.
On tall legs the strong one stood;
blades sought the fray with him the most —
and of all warriors who stood there,
none was thought the better man.

LVIII.
Þorkell his brother was tall,
a valiant companion in the fray —
wise, learned, and foreseeing —
and both were alike in this.

LIX.
The Jarl's sons to that land set forth,
to join the Jómaborg company;
forward over steep soldier-paths,
the market-roads led on.

LX.
Little remained of preparations —
the father's temperament seemed best;
he steered one night at first
toward Bornholm's shore.

LXI.
One of Veseti's finest holdings
was taken by their raid;
now leaving the land, they sailed —
the sea-moon's trees depart.

LXII.
Two warships they had, well-fitted,
and a hundred men of chosen troop;
no delay upon the sea-maiden's road —
through the cresting waves they pressed.

LXIII.
The keel rumbles, the mast creaks,
the spray fires, the sea-gulls cry;
by Jómaborg's harbor
they hastily dropped their sails.

LXIV.
Pálnatóki stands yet
upon the stone arch of the castle;
many men followed him in flocks —
he sits above the sea.

LXV.
He asked then of the captain:
"Who sends his youths hither?"
They answered him truly,
setting forth their errand.

LXVI.
He receives the spear-grey company;
as the sea-troop comes ashore,
the iron gate thrice opens —
and in row the warships.

LXVII.
The Jarl tests each man to see
if he matches well in might and age;
most of the youths were turned away —
the rest must row back home.

LXVIII.
The brothers then are led into the law
by the fortress-chieftain's word.
The verse bids the folk be patient —
the tale resumes tomorrow morn.

Fimmta Ríma — Fifth Ríma

Mansongur

I.
Again the chosen spring of verse shall rouse the folk,
for now the craft desires its testing.

II.
A message is altogether good when another fails;
beside her my Siggi takes his seat.

III.
I was asked to bind this verse together,
though none should find amusement in it.

IV.
That same man bid me at his songs
to find a blessing over him.

V.
His worthy request is best fulfilled,
as otherwise the bright one must remain.

VI.
It is my joy — the man might please the ladies;
let us now begin upon our feet.

VII.
There are slender arms, cold and clear,
strength-chosen, noble from the first.

VIII.
The body stands pine-straight, the chest well-arched,
a slender waist, the lower back but slightly bowed.

IX.
Broad-shouldered, fine of hand, with hair upon the brow —
in stature he is every inch a man of rank.

X.
About the head a circlet stands
like the brand-mark of a merchant's stall.

XI.
Mild of temper, moderate of heart among the lads —
a drinking-man he is by no means.

XII.
A craftsman, reckoning more than most,
able in all, like one well-taught.

XIII.
This description scarce befits the man I know;
slow the verse — another yet may know him.

XIV.
Small of stature — yet fair he seems;
none shall reject what they behold.

XV.
It is — I think — time to attend to my stories
and test myself upon the Rima-throne.

Narrative

XVI.
The lore-harvest of ancient sagas pressed upon me hard;
the brothers entered into peace and law.

XVII.
From Bornholm we hear more tidings told;
Vefeti now fares ill.

XVIII.
When his sons had struck with sharpened spear,
he complained before King Sveinn.

XIX.
He bids the young man fulfill his oaths;
the king deigned so to answer:

XX.
"Let it stand as it is, though it falls ill —
but I shall send for the Jarl."

XXI.
"And learn how he intends to mend
the plunder and aggression of his sons."

XXII.
Vefeti now directs his way home; the wise king spoke,
summoning thence Strut-Haraldr.

XXIII.
He tells him of the sons' plundering, though little reconciled,
and on their account demands redress.

XXIV.
The Jarl answers: "It seems ugly to bring before the court —
though young men must find their sustenance."

XXV.
"My wealth I will not waste upon such a case,
though the other may not like it much."

XXVI.
A gracious answer he then granted him:
"Home you may go in peace."

XXVII.
"I have told you our will — you shall moreover
be answerable for what comes after."

XXVIII.
Vefeti and Bui prepare their most hostile plans;
the Jarl declared he feared nothing.

XXIX.
Jarl Haraldr then went home, and the others heard
all concerning that conversation.

XXX.
Vefeti with his fine sons sailed from the harbors,
next upon their prowling warships.

XXXI.
Two hundred ships he had of shielded hulls,
and steered their course for Zealand.

XXXII.
Three homesteads, the Jarl's best, with bold resolve
they completely seized.

XXXIII.
Then homeward they held once more — and Haraldr
found it pleased him less than before.

XXXIV.
He sent men to seek settlement at the meeting;
the King received that case poorly.

XXXV.
He says: "The Jarl himself may follow
his own counsel now, and go in grace."

XXXVI.
When the Jarl sees that the feud destroys the peace,
he fitted out ten warships.

XXXVII.
To Bornholm he held with the bold host;
three homesteads there were plundered.

XXXVIII.
He loads the warships, homeward bound he holds the ship;
he reckons himself to have fared well.

XXXIX.
Vefeti hastened to find a certain meeting
and complained before the King of damages.

XL.
"Overreach in this land will only grow
if it does not come under the King's judgment."

XLI.
The King promised to call a Thing and reconcile the warriors;
he said it was likewise better to settle.

XLII.
Then the prince summoned a Thing, and thither came
Jarl Haraldr — the charges were made.

XLIII.
Vefeti came likewise with his company that same day,
but his sons were not among them.

XLIV.
Twenty ships the prince had, armed with trusty weapons,
but Vefeti only four ferries.

XLV.
The Jarl pitched camp upon the broad road;
the farmer set his booths beside the sea.

XLVI.
The day wore on. The men looked out
and saw ten ships wading into the bay.

XLVII.
They laid alongside and straightway made for land;
Vefeti's men could recognize them.

XLVIII.
Bui had prepared himself in such finery
as he had never worn the like.

XLIX.
The princely regalia of Haraldr he had brought —
however closely that treasure had been kept.

L.
The ten-mark hat upon his head he bore;
remarkable upon the field was he.

LI.
He came also with two chests, the mighty warrior —
from Haraldr they had been taken.

LII.
Full they were of fair gold, those board-pouches —
three hundred marks in bags.

LIII.
The chieftain Haraldr then prepared his speech,
princely in his princely garb:

LIV.
"Now is my counsel — if you dare to test my might —
that both of us take sharpened spears."

LV.
"I rouse now your stallion-blood to the weapon-storm,
if you have the heart to fight."

LVI.
King Sveinn heard his words and saw
that such a thing would come to pass at that assembly.

LVII.
He requested a hearing: "Let both put aside ill will —
I shall judge your case."

LVIII.
Bui answers: "Your judgment I will never accept
if the gold-tree must shed its leaves."

LIX.
"Never — on my word — shall I let go such wealth!"
Thus Bui swore, and held to it.

LX.
Bold counsel then with warrior's wisdom —
"Let the Jarl have his princely garments back."

LXI.
They would keep the gold and greatest treasures,
but three farms shall compensate the Jarl.

LXII.
Yet Tofa, the Jarl's own daughter,
shall here be given — Sigurdur takes her as his mate.

LXIII.
Her dowry may be called a grand estate;
thus Sigurdur may possess her.

LXIV.
This judgment all let stand;
Sigurdur betrothed the nobleman's lady.

LXV.
For the wedding now they readied straightway
with fine conduct, when men rode from the Thing.

LXVI.
The wine nourished the company for days —
full of gossip and festive blows.

LXVII.
After this, Bui prepared for Jomsborg,
bidding farewell to friends and worthy kin.

LXVIII.
Sigurdur wished to follow the man's true company,
though newly wed he left the woman's embrace.

LXIX.
Then the kinsmen made ready and set to the journey
with two warships and a hundred men.

LXX.
They set out. Eagles swept the waters' roads;
the smooth course led to Jomsborg.

LXXI.
On the stone arch stood men who straightway knew them
and ran to the harbor gates.

LXXII.
His credentials Bui bore forth and asked to prove himself,
certain of his place among the Vikings.

LXXIII.
Palnatoki took counsel with the wise warriors:
should they receive them — what was the ruling?

LXXIV.
All deferred to him alone in this,
asking if he wished to take both brothers.

LXXV.
Up was loosened the harbor gate;
the others rowed their ships into the fair harbor.

LXXVI.
Then they tested the warriors in shield-blows,
and eighty swore the laws.

LXXVII.
Forty went home, who were found wanting;
the rest remained within.

LXXVIII.
Now he sits in his fortress with wealth and following —
the Jomsviking host, for many a year.

LXXIX.
Each summer the warriors venture out to war;
victory seemed to sport among their raids.

LXXX.
These Vikings bore their fame throughout the world,
far-renowned for the mountain of arms.

LXXXI.
That is the most needful counsel — to be silent in time;
thus shall the Rima be ended.

Sjötta Ríma — Sixth Ríma

Mansongur

I.
The hand must weave the thread once more
of fame and worthy verse;
again the word-craft summons me
to tell of wars and men.

II.
Trim now the golden song, good maid —
I catch the ear's delight;
smooth out the ruler's ruddy field:
let Rose attend tonight.

III.
The people's company dances thrice;
the saga's thread runs long.
The folk stand blessed by Western laws
of ancient verse and song.

IV.
While hard storms drive the herd of waves
and thunder shakes the shore,
the quiet speech of poetry
gives calm forevermore.

V.
Wilt thou take this verse from me,
the weary spinner's thread?
Then listen close and smooth thy brow,
and hear what must be said.

VI.
That joy might fill thy greater heart
and nourish it with green —
Rose, heart's own treasure, might she hear
the sound of this Rima's theme!

VII.
I walk beside my sorrow still,
the bright gravel of the hand;
upon thy arm I would rest awhile
and savour what is grand.

VIII.
Two counsels hold me — young, unchecked —
the storm has veiled my way;
the boats that wander lose the course
and bear their going astray.

IX.
Each walks the road his fate has set,
though will at times gives way;
my mansongur shall run no more —
I cease my praise today.

X.
I call for verse of heroes now;
the idle muse must wake.
Let warriors' deeds and distant shores
put softer song to break.

Narrative

XI.
The deeds of Rome's great markets faded
from my tale's concern;
the hard-set garrison of Jomsborg
was content with peace in turn.

XII.
Young Sveinn stood schooled in written law,
the lads upheld their place;
of Vagn again let me now speak —
the young blade's sharpened grace.

XIII.
At home the youth grew older still
and never shed his flame;
the spirit's force within him burned —
no temperance could tame.

XIV.
Now war was all his labour's work;
he ventured forth with spears.
He bore seven wounds from Hel herself —
the strongest of his years.

XV.
When twelve and two winters had passed
upon the market-stead,
the cunning lad had strength enough
and craved the warrior's bread.

XVI.
"Prepare a ship for me," he cried,
"and quench my heart's dark sorrow!
Turn now the host to Jomsborg's shore —
I sail upon the morrow."

XVII.
The tree of battle fares abroad
to test the fleet's sharp grace;
in mind he holds two warriors clear —
a hundred men to face.

XVIII.
The years had borne their double ten;
the fourscore men all pressed
their oars into the water's brine
and sailed upon their quest.

XIX.
The ships slide seaward from the land,
the fjords they plunder wide;
with battle-brands the warriors dared
to strike through every side.

XX.
Their fury blazed across the host
with bright brands in the storm;
they won both cloth and weapons, food,
in the blade-tempest's swarm.

XXI.
The wounds of death laid waste the earth
and labour knew no end;
the Danish soil was ploughed with blood —
it ran where men were kenned.

XXII.
They leave the place, forget their gain,
the Gothic gifts of old;
then westward Vagn now turns his bow —
the band draws homeward, bold.

XXIII.
The linden-riders cut through waves,
the rain beneath them runs;
the gale blows hard with heavy force,
thin silver on their guns.

XXIV.
The breakers crash, the ship is tossed,
the steel-clad bow-beast moans;
the broad breast of the vessel shakes —
the bending rib-work groans.

XXV.
No man could stand upon the deck,
the thinning fog hung low;
then from the deep the fortress rose —
the noble walls of Jom.

XXVI.
They search for shallow anchorage,
the morning sun gleams bright;
beneath the early warmth they steer
where harbour-chains catch light.

XXVII.
A warrior bends his oaken oar
and drives the honour-way;
then Toki walks among his men
beneath the stone arch's sway.

XXVIII.
Word reached the hero swift as fire —
what ship turns at the bow?
This news upon the ramparts falls:
a bold host comes below.

XXIX.
With clear words, wise young Vagn spoke up
and turned to Toki's face:
"Upon this noble ground I'd serve
and dwell within this place."

XXX.
"Take fear of me away," he said,
"and keep me in thy band;
for I was wild when young at home —
now try me, and I'll stand."

XXXI.
"Press hard the company here, you will —
the hall receives the strong;
the one who's tried is worth his oath —
you dare to bring him on."

XXXII.
The warrior met him — none could match
the homeland's best to weigh;
none dared to test what plain he saw —
though some would turn away.

XXXIII.
He thanked his kinsman's counsel right,
the thread of gladness held;
a steady course was set and straight —
"Now steer thy fortune, self!"

XXXIV.
"Before the people set your laws,
and settle brother-strife;
upon my time you've laid your claim —
grant me the Jomsborg life."

XXXV.
Then Toki bids his neighbours near
and counts the matter plain:
"Your company, attend him here —
take heed of this young thane!"

XXXVI.
Bui found the matter bitter still,
his words cut sharp and clear:
"Trust not this youthful warrior's fire —
foul is the man, I fear!"

XXXVII.
"He wrecks the honour built by hands;
young Vagn will bait the hook.
My kinsmen spoil my case for me —
no profit can I look."

XXXVIII.
Sigvaldi wrestled with the plea:
"To trusted men give trust;
the battle-bold one stands too proud —
from here depart he must."

XXXIX.
But Sveinawaldur spoke to Toki then
and held his brother's name:
"Disclose his age for all to judge,
good kinsman — speak thy claim!"

XL.
"In truth I tell you, lord and thane,
the boy is fair and sure;
by reckoning of seasoned men —
of eighteen winters' store."

XLI.
"Through hardship's days he has not flagged,
his skills run true and clean;
the law's intention fits him well —
let him be tried and seen."

XLII.
"This company may test him now,
examine every fault;
no man more fit than he I find —
let judgement call a halt."

XLIII.
Sigvaldi tests him, staff in hand,
and tries the youth again;
let courage hold against this lord —
prove worthy of these men!

XLIV.
"A red meeting of metal waits!
My patience wears to bone.
A coward's hound — or else step forth
and reap what you have sown!"

XLV.
"We'll bind the bright ones to this test
while warriors surge ahead;
speak of the man before the host —
or else choose blood instead."

XLVI.
"More swords shall strike at waterfalls,
in spear-grooves rang and rung;
you'll all take stock and give account
and break the elder tongue."

XLVII.
Valdi bids him speak at once,
though anger marks his brow;
the fair-shielded one sails out
upon the battle-prow.

XLVIII.
Then Toki speaks: "He handles well
the weapon-storm and art;
the shining lord has driven steel —
no man can shake his heart."

XLIX.
They wished to test him further still
among the gathered thanes;
no death could quench this steadfast youth —
a worthy one remains.

L.
Then Vagn and his companion stood
and bound their weapons fast;
with tempered edge and fullest strength,
through every trial they passed.

LI.
Against his challenger Vagn prevailed —
the fearsome wrestler's son;
he hurled great stones with brazen hand
and held when others run.

LII.
The sea could drive them least of all;
with red-stained edges bared,
the shields could barely hold the line
where reluctant breakers flared.

LIII.
The ships advance with silver prow;
the battle-sisters groan.
The strength of heroes gives at last —
some must retreat alone.

LIV.
Raw swords are held above the dead;
the others wait their doom;
with might they strike through metal's skin —
the ore-light in the gloom.

LV.
Sigvaldi yearns for peace at last;
a worthy meeting finds.
The battle-bold one lets the host
sail free beneath the winds.

LVI.
The sword-kin draw their blades away;
the wounded rear remain;
the brave ones press on afterward
to struggle for the plain.

LVII.
The storms still roar upon their shields
and burn beneath the men;
the serpent-swords wound many there —
through battle, on again.

LVIII.
A brave hand of old Ali's line
tears through the bitter fray;
shields splinter, reddened bodies fall —
the dead men line the way.

LIX.
With reddened brow the bearer falls;
from wounds the winter's toll.
The slain lie deep on battlefield —
the dead weigh on the soul.

LX.
The trolls of anvils shake the field;
beneath the rocks they thunder.
The mountain rings with every blow,
and ice-earth tears asunder.

LXI.
The host is tested at its worst —
the battle-staff now tries;
the greatest of the folk have fallen,
and few alone still rise.

LXII.
Then Toki bids his lord draw near;
the battle-hounds are set.
The cunning one must test the steel
where blade and foeman met.

LXIII.
Now let the danger cease for all —
the hard-won truce is found.
The struggles end upon his word;
the kin of Ali — sound.

LXIV.
A peace the warriors gladly seized;
the spear-play found its close.
Then Vagn they welcomed by the law —
received where Jomsborg rose.

LXV.
For long he followed them to war,
among the ring-adorned;
the finest company he found —
to master wealth was borne.

LXVI.
Now must I bind an end to verse;
the tale has knotted tight.
The linden-worker's chapter stands —
the thread has had its fill.

LXVII.
The folk now choose the quiet of sleep;
the cold foundations keep.
The mother-ground of dawn grows bright —
the verse is praised and deep.

Sjöunda Ríma — Seventh Ríma

Mansongur

I.
The verse wakes and the song rises —
wise men hear the sound of poetry.
We bid the swans of verse to gather:
take now the beaker of song.

II.
No greater bliss can be attained
beneath the blue tent of the sky
than by the silver-spirited woman
who chases troubled sleep away.

III.
The treasure-lord delights in verse,
chanting wisdom from the poet's staff;
I turn my mind to their great deeds
and think I too might win that prize.

IV.
When riches visit the people's hall
and the dragon-ship's steed rides high,
I take my stand before the treasure
and wake my verse in its good season.

V.
Wherever I wait and draw near,
hushing the sounds from the sea —
the sea-horse's treacherous cunning
we saw in the slander displayed.

VI.
Where I drift over waves and stillness,
loosing gold to the woman's arm —
when from the homeland I departed,
full was the helm of that fair strand.

VII.
Draw your purse — I have thirsted
to earn this: that the poet's craft
might softly, in the peace of graves,
dwell beside the quiet resting-place.

VIII.
"So were the steeds of glory seen —
a company stood among us.
He woke in poems a guarding spirit,
the good tree of womankind."

IX.
Soul-stirring power of feeling,
songs carefully woven persist;
here, though the sand of time falls low,
fortune is eased, content, and at peace.

X.
The cups of praise are raised on high;
if verses should thunder or falter,
the graven word yields itself to me —
good and blessed indeed she is.

XI.
May she sit on every gentle cloth
in luck, and hold her own desire;
when fortune falls to you —
especially you, my Rose!

XII.
On your cheeks the flower blooms —
no eyes enjoy it more than mine.
The mansongur ceases here;
let the ring-song serve you now.

The Death of Palnatoki

XIII.
Let the song-strings fall silent:
by law Vagn has been received.
The ruler of warriors faced the assembly —
the swords' might comes with longing.

XIV.
Time passed quickly, quiet and still,
across the famous warrior's field.
Toki the Jarl fell ill —
and called the gentle one to his side.

XV.
Burizleif the prince
comes at the lord's summoning;
the aged one stirs with his words —
his strength fading hour by hour.

XVI.
"For I believe this sickness,
which I now suffer, Lord,
will be the last to seize me.
Care for my band of warriors."

XVII.
"Choose another — a fine catch —
a keen man from this company
to serve as ruler,
one who bears true strength and courage."

XVIII.
The old one speaks still from his wish:
"In your power — do not dispute this —
most of all I trust Sigvaldi
to hold the faith and rule of law."

XIX.
"By your counsel, lord —
may the people follow with their deeds.
What you foretold, ring-protector,
was always what I held most dear."

XX.
The counsel was given, and truly so.
Sigvaldi the prince made his will known;
eagerly he stepped to the task —
one need not ask him twice.

XXI.
The sick shield-lord sends forth his will,
soon into Vagn's hand:
"Take Bretland's governance in your grasp" —
and stirring in spirit, he declared:

XXII.
"My stiffened life I feel now —
ease into peace, my heir!
Your sword shall shield the fortress-men;
preserve both strength and might."

XXIII.
The Jarl lay dead thereafter —
the customs of glory mourned him.
Power is a hard river to ford,
and scarcely does it wait for long.

The Three Daughters

XXIV.
Before the order shifts another way —
the nature of the people and their laws —
women seek that place constantly,
where warriors give shelter through the night.

XXV.
The men took to wandering abroad,
sneaking away and coming to harm;
at the edge of battle it lay —
they perished through the broken law.

XXVI.
The king of Vindland meets them here —
he had in mind what suited best.
Three daughters the prince possessed,
gentle maidens whom we name.

XXVII.
Astridur she was called — the fairest —
fair of face and good of nature.
She was the gentle chieftain's daughter,
woven in beauty, bright as dawn.

XXVIII.
Young Gunnhildur was there too,
never wanting in skill or virtue,
her nature full of grace —
she was the prince's second daughter.

XXIX.
Likewise Gyda, the noble maiden —
love then takes its hold.
Tryggvi's descendant came from Norway,
enjoying the peace that was offered.

The Marriage Proposal

XXX.
The others of that household
had concealed their intentions.
The bold warrior stepped forward
and asked for Astridur's hand — Sigvaldi.

XXXI.
At this time she considers,
and speaks to the prince with cunning mind:
"I do not see that this is fitting —
peace shall perish across the land."

XXXII.
He found his daughter at the hall,
went to ask her this:
"Where does the flame of that fair one run?
How should the thread of fate be read?"

XXXIII.
"I would never — O treasure-woman —
willingly choose this lord.
But forced necessity holds now;
we choose the shield-elf as we must."

XXXIV.
"The grey-haired father shall govern this,
keeping us from our own will —
as the prince of the Danes must see it;
let the flame-raven fly on past."

XXXV.
"One other choice I found,
that can lighten this inner wound:
let him come before King Sveinn
with a suit of love into this house."

XXXVI.
The wise one governs this for you —
whatever the pillar of power may see;
but he lets the cunning run loose,
bearing ugly treachery in mind.

The Treachery of Sigvaldi

XXXVII.
Then from the land of the Wends,
upon the journey's purpose,
at Svolder's shields he stands —
he lets the three forces meet.

XXXVIII.
Through rushing streams he steered awhile,
the sea-steed's mast before the wind;
at Zealand's shore they made their landing —
the small catch played within their hands.

XXXIX.
The shield-flinger learned
that the folk of the land had gathered near,
at a feast held in the hall —
the master of the house summoned them.

XL.
The warrior fastened then his ship,
three craft upon the broad prow;
no other ship lay anywhere near.

XLI.
Sigvaldi's men then readied the ships,
set them to sail from the land;
lightly the fleet slipped away
and vanished from the shore.

XLII.
He called out once more,
choosing eighteen men, and spoke:
trusty friends came to the hall —
the sable-streams of the treasure-house.

XLIII.
"Consider this, lord" — says he —
"a web I weave, and it weighs on him;
he will not lightly refuse
to accept my counsel for the host."

XLIV.
The prince sends his men
to declare the errand;
the hero-boy and the host together
march to the harbor-mouth.

XLV.
Then Valdi leads the prince
across the long heath,
sets course on the ship as far from land
as possible, and calls for warriors.

XLVI.
"The prince should hasten" — he thinks —
"for resting here suits me fine;
when the king has come to his knees —
cast loose the gangplanks!"

XLVII.
From the land the host departed;
the prince managed to escape
upon Valdi's sea-wagon —
the far-traveled one arrives.

XLVIII.
Sigvaldi's ship reached the shore,
and he weighed the word that had spread:
now who might be of help?
And thus he spoke to that resolve:

XLIX.
"Exhausted is the strength of words —
the sick one barely moves.
His spirit failing, loosened —
you must bow down before me."

L.
The prince bowed before the nation,
cunningly seized —
the king's prize upon his back —
with both hands Sigvaldi bound him.

The Double Marriage

LI.
The swift arrow called aloud —
from there the ships rode fast.
This satisfied the company;
they chose the blue sea's path.

LII.
The gentle prince looked around,
turned from glory's path and answered:
"Never did I expect this of you —
you would assault me under truce!"

LIII.
"It is not as you think, my lord —
you may sail with me
to Vindland, borne as my guest;
let harm be silent now."

LIV.
To Jomsborg they came at last —
the prince's company arrived.
The gentle fortress prepared a feast,
and the fair prince said: "Yes!"

LV.
When the warriors began
to drink from the feast-cups,
wise Sigvaldi saw his chance —
accustomed to schemes, he declared:

LVI.
"The golden lord of Vindland
sees great beauty in his daughter.
She bears the name Gunnhildur —
you should ask for her hand."

LVII.
"I will go for the fair lady,
to arrange the betrothal if I can,
so the worthy woman may be won."
The king answers: "Go then!"

LVIII.
To the hall Sigvaldi hastened,
the wise one and the chieftain;
the warrior wove his familiar plans
and found the lord of the Danes once more.

LIX.
The treasure-lord goes where needed —
where the chosen woman awaits.
"If you need not pay tribute" —
so speaks the star-defender.

LX.
"For the wedding's work prepare —
the ring-maiden to embrace here.
The other one is promised to me —
she is, in truth, the lesser."

LXI.
The warriors made this decision —
the powerful one arranged the match.
The chieftains attend the feast;
friends and allies gathering.

LXII.
The king and his captains —
betrothal of women was given to both.
The wedding we recall of those men;
no more need be said of victories.

LXIII.
With customs seldom exchanged,
the brides sat through the evenings;
their faces showed their grace
before the company of old warriors.

LXIV.
In the morning the men arose,
the feast had faded by then.
They seemed cheerful standing there —
the night's vigil was at its end.

LXV.
The counselor of the Danes shall be placed —
with care for both brides,
whichever had held a place before;
for him they prophesied good fortune.

LXVI.
She held her husband in low regard;
Sigvaldi showed himself crafty.
The prince revealed his purpose:
let those matters lie quiet.

Departure Through Storm

LXVII.
He put his knowledge to use;
from the feast's ending he slipped away.
Through narrow lanes they launched the ships —
he held his fleet upon the trembling sea.

LXVIII.
The company sets sails to the yard,
the wind blows pleasantly;
no sorrow did the host foresee —
from land the ships draw away.

LXIX.
Frost swelled in their hands,
the cold shielded them from the south;
ice spread over the waters
on the shores of the northern whale.

LXX.
The waves spewed upon the boards,
breakers churned in foaming spray;
ice-pillars ground against the reefs,
gusts raged within the sails.

LXXI.
The sea's grey steed pressed onward,
past the land of wounded swans;
it went as was its custom, foaming,
speeding toward the Danes' domain.

LXXII.
To the fortress Sjoli goes, content,
with silk in his keeping, and cheerful.
The rima's meter here must end —
exhausted is my power of song.

Áttunda Ríma — Eighth Ríma

Mansongur

I.
Rest beside me, ring-adorned one, with cheerful spirit;
I go then to shape the verse — let others have their say.

II.
Indulgent ones, give me your ear, with the rose's blush —
let sweet and merry maidens stand here, singing with the song.

III.
Let ears be hushed, the bow-tree still the word-storm;
close among the swan-maidens stands the smith of songs.

IV.
I remember one of gentle heart, mild in words,
brow-pure and hair-bright, who was once beside me.

V.
Her eyes wander bright and keen around their brow-rest,
as though the sun longed to lance its light through glass.

VI.
The nose shapes the white skin finely, chiefly from above;
its form is neat and well-made at the bridge.

VII.
White and red is the maiden's face, with swift blush,
as though blood were melting into snow upon both cheeks.

VIII.
The fair one's peaceful beauty serves, so sweetly set:
she has fullness in both her lips, straight from the nose.

IX.
Neat hands can clap with skill in love's own stance;
wherever the willow-sun stands, she is ever graceful.

X.
She is red and white upon her cheeks, cheerful in words;
thus she stood within my memory, painted long ago.

XI.
Now the shy gem-maiden seems but a scratched saga;
I have no home in the world — she is taken!

XII.
Would that I could fold the wise maiden in my arms —
she who would not give the good gift, nor grant it to both.

XIII.
While life takes no killing blow and strength endures,
I shall sing of her and never fall silent.

XIV.
Now I turn to visit the saga and tend to the verse;
let women and men sit in their seats — thus is the Rima:

The Return and the Death

XV.
I left behind the old digression, wakeful still;
home had come the lord of the Danes, and peace was sworn.

XVI.
The ruler heard tidings upon the Danish land:
Strut-Haraldur had gone to his rest in death's repose.

XVII.
This befell the king to bear, so men say —
to hold a funeral feast for the old man and lay him in a mound.

XVIII.
The prince sent word to the fortress of the skalds;
tidings kindled the tale of Sigvaldur's grief.

The Funeral Voyage

XIX.
The funeral bids the lord attend with wise companions;
the warriors of the bright stream agreed to steer the way.

XX.
"Speak now" — Sigvald says — to the company of men:
"let him spare nothing here for the feasting."

XXI.
From the captains came a dark foreboding, with verse-wise answer:
many thought it ill counsel to journey thither.

XXII.
The brothers wished nothing else but to attend the funeral;
they wished the fleet to sail and the journey to begin.

XXIII.
The Vikings wished to go, every man of Jomsborg —
sworn together, following to the halls of peace.

XXIV.
Neither courage faltered in the hard troop, nor their valor waned;
one hundred and seventy ships they launched from their shores.

XXV.
Out upon the sea they pressed through the swells, oar-driven;
the canvas stretched over bright hulls — the weather fair.

XXVI.
Masts shattered, keels drove through the serpent-spray,
thundering under the steel-gusts of crashing storms.

XXVII.
Ships crash, the cold sea grips them, keels grind onward;
carrion-eagles wheel above the raw crests of breaking surf.

XXVIII.
The wind howls, the stays shudder, the ropes moan;
the stems strain, the rigging shakes, the ships ride on.

XXIX.
Rollers rock the cradle-frames and drive the spray;
the prow cleaves through half a score of crashing breakers.

XXX.
With sails stretched taut the fleet rides on the gentle flood —
to Sjaelland they came, white warriors on gleaming steeds.

XXXI.
There in seats sat warriors with the feast-company;
no lack of cheer — they measured mead from the cups.

The Oath-Swearing

XXXII.
The Jomsvikings took their seats amid the revel and the joy,
drawing deep from the cup of the tamed current.

XXXIII.
The prince bids the men not beguile themselves with boasts;
no one spoke a full or half-word of hall-cunning.

XXXIV.
Well it went — the mead-rivers flowed over the belly's hall;
they drank long and deep in good and proper measure.

XXXV.
Then the ale-force seized them with reckless boldness;
their feet stumbled on the golden floor — the sorcery of drink.

XXXVI.
All day long they swayed and staggered, wretched-drunk.
Mordur leans toward the revelers and says to them:

XXXVII.
"Jomsvikings! It is your privilege
to make your oath-swearings now, at the horn's joy."

XXXVIII.
Sigvald answers, turning to Sjoli the bold:
"You are bound, lord, to begin the sport,"

XXXIX.
He rose from his seat, standing before the gathered nobles,
and made his oath, declaring it in all men's hearing:

XL.
"England's lord Adalradr, by my strength I shall drive him
before the third Yule from his life and land — an exile."

XLI.
Then Sigvaldi strode across the floor to the gilded seat;
the battle-bold one raised his oath in turn:

XLII.
"To Norway I wage war — I swear this oath as steel grows keen —
and this the warriors' company shall dare, within three winters."

XLIII.
"Hakon Jarl from his domains I shall drive or slay,
or else fall myself, death-doomed, upon the grey flood."

XLIV.
The king praises the bold one for this oath he swore;
then next the chieftain speaks to Thorkell Ha:

XLV.
"You too must swear an oath — you cannot refuse;
bold warrior, you must take your turn to speak."

XLVI.
Thorkell says: "To this I swear — I shall go thither,
and never flee before my kinsman Valdi."

XLVII.
Now to Bui the proud one strides, the keeper of spears:
"What will you, brave warrior, dare to swear?"

XLVIII.
Bui speaks: "On the pathways of men I shall shed blood;
I shall follow Valdi into battle valiantly,

XLIX.
"And hold my ground — " the warrior cries — "shield and serpent,
until Sigvaldi himself flees from the sword-storm."

L.
To Sigurd Kapa the lord turns, with pressing question:
"It is time for the warrior's speech — remember the oaths."

LI.
Sigurdur swears his vow, firm and unyielding:
"I shall not flinch — I shall bear my blade and follow my brother."

LII.
"I shall not release the grip of battle from my hands
until Bui has escaped or lies dead."

LIII.
The king speaks to Vagn with steadfast heart:
"You, warrior! Will you prove your worth in the sword-wind?"

LIV.
"To this I swear" — boasts the greatest warrior —
"with Sigvaldi's company I shall go thither."

LV.
"I shall not flee from the bitter strife
until my kinsman Bui has departed this life."

LVI.
"And more I boast: if we reach Norway's shores,
to Thorkell Leira I shall send a high-hewn greeting."

LVII.
"And his daughter Ingibjorg's arms I shall embrace
in the dark of night — and take her maidenhood."

LVIII.
"What oath does Brettki Bjorn dare?" the prince demands;
men arm Vagn with weapons for the fight ahead.

The Morning After

LIX.
The talk lightened then, and all men praised the oaths;
after this, most found their way to sleep.

LX.
Sigvald quickly fell into bed, the proud warrior;
fast and soon he slumbers there, beside his lady.

LXI.
The night passes; mead-heavy, the warrior wakes, still dazed.
Astridur asks: does he hold his oaths in memory?

LXII.
He said he could not recall his highest boasts;
the lady tells the seafarer the entire tale.

LXIII.
In the morning men came to their seats, pale and uneasy;
the landholders spoke plainly to Sigvald then:

LXIV.
"Do you remember the oaths, or not? — wielder of spears?"
Valdi denies it; Sjoli speaks the honest truth.

LXV.
Sigvald sends men out to seek counsel:
"Will you lend me aid to pursue this matter?"

LXVI.
"The path shall be cleared" — spoke the keeper of gold —
"twenty warships you shall have, whenever you depart."

LXVII.
From one farmer another ship was offered, freely given;
to King Sveinn no man would refuse his honor.

LXVIII.
The king grows wrathful; his mood turns cold and grim.
"Whatever you ask, say what you need," spoke Sjoli.

The Departure

LXIX.
"Sixty great ships I claim, with keel and beam."
The wise ruler reddens now, and speaks once more:

LXX.
"As soon as it stands ready, the fleet — fair-decked and fitted —
stand to your posts: when the host is gathered, depart."

LXXI.
"Well answered," says the wise old man;
"now we shall set sail, as soon as the funeral ends."

LXXII.
The chieftain falls silent, then calls out: "Go with haste!
Though the verse repeats, I shall lighten your share of burden."

LXXIII.
Astridur says: "Take the company with you and be swift;
there is no waiting for messengers now — go to the prince."

LXXIV.
Now to the journey the warriors stride, moving quickly —
sharpening swords, decking the masts, readying the ships.

LXXV.
Bui's brother takes his place — battle-ready, shields in the wind;
the war-fitted one sets out upon his course, flying shields.

LXXVI.
Two companies of three noble warriors sail, a mighty host;
these Bui bids to take their place among the iron crews.

LXXVII.
One: axe-wielding Havardur, strengthener of battle,
in the blade-dew, mighty of arm and fiercely grim.

LXXVIII.
The other: Aslakur Holmstjali he is called —
a rogue made for the rail, built for the thrust.

LXXIX.
Bui takes the best warriors he has to offer;
Aslakur the mighty he gives to Vagn.

LXXX.
The feast has ended; the bath-sails rise aloft;
the ships slide forward onto the sea, fairly decked.

LXXXI.
The Jomsvikings' fleet set out upon the ice-road —
a hundred ring-mailed ships, mighty in the flotilla.

LXXXII.
From the land the maidens of the strait watch the heroes depart.
It is best to stay at home, they say; the Rima ends.

Níunda Ríma — Ninth Ríma

Mansongur

I.
Let the steed of song lift its voice, let warm blood cool —
about those folk in the battle's stead, sung in a mighty tune.

II.
Though winds howl and sweep the boards, we find a strong hour
in the gales of winter's death-horse, on the high days of Yule.

III.
Let men bring refreshment here, let companions be at ease;
pour the mead-cup for me, while I am composing.

IV.
Horn-liquor is easy to find — it soothes the griefs;
the drink-god's gift, wrapped in serpent-rings.

V.
I remember a time when the ring-adorned lady shone,
white of face with gentle nature — by me dwelt Rosa.

VI.
My warm thought shapes the honored line,
forming the brow-song's tone, concealing sorrow with verse.

VII.
In that time the mood was bright, a pleasant meeting I found;
beside the silk-adorned one I sat enchanted.

VIII.
Warmth cannot reach every heart nearby, her features fading;
I long to see you still — visions of the brow's runes.

IX.
It is fitting to begin the rima-branch, to hum one rhyme,
a pure tale to soothe affliction — look on the cliff's brow.

X.
Rest nearby and hear the verse-staves, the ancient fire's breeze,
and listen to what may be told — the Mansongur is done.

The Voyage

XI.
The moon's poem-runes I now let rest —
out on the foaming field, the battle-serpents of war.

XII.
The rigging sang through the rider's press,
the plunder-waves strong against the boards;
steel rang and oar-poles groaned
at the long rowing-benches.

XIII.
The land dimmed and sank below,
the wind moistened the sails;
blue sky met the blue sea,
breakers scraped the sides.

XIV.
The mast-stays lashed and struck
in the wind's unwelcome gusts;
the sea-horse rolled at the bold heights,
tossing the load of the vessels.

XV.
Foaming breakers — the wave-cloth flies
at the flat deck-tents;
the surf washed the ship's breast,
froth roared along the sides.

XVI.
Storms whine, the sea-swine churn,
the straits crush the wake;
the weather's grave-wide maw yawns,
combing the friends of the current.

XVII.
The wrathful one spoke against delay,
resolved not to linger —
toward Norway, across the whale's plain,
the mast-heads gladly striving.

XVIII.
In a bay they bound the mast's ropes,
scattered boards ashore;
Tunsberg they found about the wave-crests,
at the hours of the sun.

Geirmundur

XIX.
Dark weather worked its mischief,
to storm-tasks raised;
bold was the band — for warriors' courage
draws the sword from the sheath.

XX.
There dwelt a time in the farmstead's shelter,
one who broke fire-brands;
he had slept a while at the proper hour —
his name was Geirmundur Sviti.

XXI.
Burning folk with Bolverk's joy,
in the burning straits barely;
they wake the Viking-people
with ill dreams.

XXII.
There was no peace, though the brave would rest,
striving amid the thunder of seats;
in every harbor the danger hid,
each man in his own berth.

XXIII.
Geirmundur sees that nothing here
promises joy;
into the open air he goes to save himself,
gathering his wits together.

XXIV.
With cunning the marauding men
came running thither;
the Vikings' hostility known still,
bearing down upon them.

XXV.
The farmer sees that all is readied —
the spear-weeping's fame;
aloft he goes, though the way is broken,
bitter is the army of Jom.

XXVI.
It seemed to Geirmundur a brief while
before life would need defending —
out on the green ground
where warriors battle below.

XXVII.
It was grim there on the wave-crest,
the sound of life-shooters;
the life-breaker against all threats
came down on foot.

The Warning

XXVIII.
Vagn now sees where the bold one flees,
the ring-bearer turns away;
on his hand is a true ring —
an arm-ring worth the taking.

XXIX.
Down the path he ran and found the place,
quick-acting though the grip was fierce;
Vagn's hand-ban he barely escaped —
the leap never caught the man.

XXX.
Through forests and wastelands he went,
in constant pain of foot;
burning through the cold,
struggling through the nights.

XXXI.
Hakon the esteemed — here I tell —
had his seat gladly,
and his steel-fortress he had made firm;
at Stugga that place was called.

XXXII.
In the evening-hour with laboring hands,
at that stronghold's grounds,
Geirmundur reached the King's strait;
a man sat beneath the tables.

XXXIII.
He greets the court with fine words,
the hand-cliff's dread warrior;
the prince asked close about the tidings —
he told the truth.

XXXIV.
"What now is in your hands?" the prince asks.
"It seems: a great army —
murder aplenty is beginning,
and killing is their aim."

XXXV.
"Like fiends they increase harm,
insatiable of blood;
they drive the land to fire and brand —
the shield-frenzy bears down."

XXXVI.
The Jarl sees: "That is plain enough —
ill is afoot.
But tell me: where is this folk gathered,
heavily going with swords?"

XXXVII.
The eagle-field's warrior himself
again boldly waited:
"They call Sigvaldi the troop's Jarl —
all obey him."

XXXVIII.
"Vagn and Bui on the weather's lady —
fierce battle they bring.
You may trust me in this —
the banners now shall fly."

XXXIX.
He showed his arm — the hand was bare
from far-off travels;
the Jarl started up, restless, and said:
"Yes! I see it upon you, man!"

XL.
"Do you know who struck with the hard blow,
who stripped the hand's treasure?
The wise warrior grants: Vagn's bidding
was the force behind it."

XLI.
"I heard then — from my hand
he drew away my ring,
the troop mighty beside him,
and spoke to me this close."

The Muster

XLII.
"Ill-counsel's fire, about Norway's share —
enough folk for battle;
the finger-treasure fell to the flood —
the gain went to Vagn."

XLIII.
"Of the warriors' press I sing the tale,
who seized the ring next;
iron shall sling at the gathering —
Jomsvikings they are called."

XLIV.
"That is worse!" the prince sees.
"You are well-informed.
This army seems to me
not at all good."

XLV.
From the table the prince arose,
from the messenger so going:
"It will not avail," said he,
"to sit and wait any longer."

XLVI.
To Raumsdale goes the counsel's answer,
the mighty sword to bear;
he lets the army here and there
send up the war-arrows.

XLVII.
He sent quickly in every direction,
urging the sword-blow forth;
it was raised through every district —
an army swiftly to prepare.

XLVIII.
To Thrandheim's halls his own men went;
his son he let go forth —
Sveinn was his name — and gathered
together bands of men.

XLIX.
Eirikr, his heir, to outer Moere
attended in that hour;
in Raumsdale the steel-troops he saw,
the swords' yearning sharp.

L.
Erling sent the storm's roar forth,
the thunder of the shore's flame;
folk with drawn swords he saw stand
forth about the land of Rogaland.

Hjorungavagr

LI.
Sjoli the reckoned, steel himself,
to rove on the whale's reins;
time to hasten in cunning cold,
forth about the dale of Rauma.

LII.
The tidings then the shield-bearer saw,
he fills his purpose now;
to the steeds he went, the fire-ship drew
out onto the fjord.

LIII.
Sjoli the esteemed swept the cliff,
together urged the fleet —
to the islands called Hodd,
the launching-paths trodden.

LIV.
Test the bow in the silver's surge,
the swords' heavy strife;
the steeds tow the fire-fleet in,
into the Bay of Hjorungavagr.

LV.
Mighty was that company,
sitting upon the bridge of ships;
now about the battle-dwelling
they have three hundred vessels.

LVI.
There shall the folk endure the battle,
and the thunder-storms of war inherit;
the bright day goes to pass —
the listener reads the fate.

LVII.
Fade the sounds, the gentle folk,
find other respites now;
sleep, good people, the kind folk —
seek good nights.

Tíunda Ríma — Tenth Ríma

Mansongur

I.
Thunder in the peaks, the dance of sound —
it draws toward the clash of swords;
once more to minds a pleasant song:
let us fling the spirit's verse from the folk.

II.
War-horns' cold sounds ring out,
hardening the death-tones —
where men's fierce age rages,
the blade-teeth sate the throng.

III.
Compose the poem's dance, my dear!
Hope and wounds that ache —
the star held your radiance:
let it flow into your ears!

IV.
Fool, set the song's catch,
see what counsel mends —
wet and tighten the harp-string:
stand beside me, let us face the gale!

V.
When stirring sends forth foaming blood
through the clamor's realm,
let the hero's war-coat ring —
so the harp may sing beneath the fury.

VI.
When brothers catch the death-wound,
blood in red captivity —
let the anguish's venomed wine
enter marrow and bone.

VII.
The breast-paths of the burning branch travel,
sorrow's tree is wounded —
when their blood-doom fades,
in the first battle-frame the remnant stands.

VIII.
Let my life and blood be rightly
soothed by merry verse —
how neat and flowing the song:
you shall sweat, dear Rosa!

IX.
I cannot bid you speak at length —
the hand-depths test the tale;
the saga itself begins to spin,
and the verse-hawk takes its burden.

At Hjorungavagr

X.
The saga's tale is opened
upon Hjorungavagr:
the Jarl has laid his brave army down —
he and all his kinsmen.

XI.
To the Jomsvikings the arrow-words
still shall run and sharpen:
they let the bright shield-doors sing,
the fire-swerving fling their bloody spears.

XII.
Where they could find men, they wounded
and overwhelmed them all —
greatly they won the shore's silence;
the greatest did not turn from the assault.

XIII.
The specter-blood about the wretch's heap —
on the isles the fierce ones slaughter;
at Thereyjar it is called:
toward every harbor they swing their course.

Ulfur

XIV.
They waited in that place
upon the great rowing-steeds.
"Do you lack provisions?"
Vagn spoke thus:

XV.
Then the warriors sail forth,
testing the straits ahead —
at Hodd they set the blue prow
where the prince lay near the shore.

XVI.
Neither yields to the other,
the fire-trail's destroyer —
the serpent-trail's company
sails forth along the island's edges.

XVII.
One man they saw standing on the ground
among the throng of warriors —
with thirteen goats, a well-traveled man,
going about the field in dogged haste.

XVIII.
Ulfur he says his name,
and Vagn now presses for tidings —
cattle and goats from the old man
the warriors drive away.

XIX.
Ulfur asked: "Who is this man
who drives our cattle and goats from us?
Can anyone carry such tricks?"
Rightly then he named the folk.

XX.
"I reckon the greater danger — the man
shows himself — hope for him to flee,
than for a man to drive me out:
armored warriors outmatch you."

XXI.
"Better, I say, amid this noise,
to find the fierce king:
Hakon Jarl upon his launching-throne —
here he sits, wise by the island-bay."

XXII.
"Men slower still may wait,
even now may bide —
one cow alone he has here."
To the women Vagn spoke thus:

XXIII.
"You may keep your cattle
if you show the way,
and the purse protects every creature."
Ulfur turns with an answer:

XXIV.
"Such a thing does not befit me —
to betray a mighty lord;
yet the road I'll tell from this land,
so you may find the prince."

XXV.
"Whether you refuse or not,"
spoke Vagn, pressing down,
"you shall steer the journey on the ship,
of silver seeking the counsel-maid."

XXVI.
Hard-pressed he sends the flock —
the cow the company drags along;
from the land the driven trees depart,
deep-bound on the stormy bay.

XXVII.
From Thereyjar then they sail,
the swift fleet presses on,
upon the rightful course —
the tree-ships see the way.

XXVIII.
Swiftly Ulfur runs ashore,
to the prince's settlement bound:
the fate is settled now —
glad he runs from the launching-paths.

Blood in the Strait

XXIX.
On the strait each turned from the folk;
the thane Vagn began to watch:
from his hand the grey ember flew —
golden he sent the steel's reddening.

XXX.
Ulf received the edge's reddening,
cut through the middle;
the shield-wall colors — blood flows —
the broken one sank in the flood.

XXXI.
From the hawk-lanes of the paths,
the war-note's host looked on;
up rose the prows of the steeds —
the stallions sang in the channels.

The Fleet Advances

XXXII.
Forth across the whole fleet they see —
warriors running hard;
the Jarl himself and beside him
shields on every ship.

XXXIII.
At Hjorungavagr it was —
a terrible meeting of swords;
about the whale-bay's thunder-peaks,
death-songs the hulls sang.

XXXIV.
No delay upon the warriors there —
to run the gauntlet of strife;
to all sides it was set:
the viking lines fill up.

The Battle Lines

XXXV.
Sigvaldi set his ship —
warriors placed in the middle —
and Thorkell counted on the needed course:
there beside the shield-wall he waited.

XXXVI.
Hars with grieving Bui was,
and his brother with reddened swords,
about the iron-nail's agony —
in the north wing of the army.

XXXVII.
The vikings defend fiercely — Vagn
took his battle-seat:
the fire-tree fierce he was,
in the eastern wing of the army.

XXXVIII.
There too shall defense be given —
the ship's side cuts the wave;
rising up is Brestsi Bjorn:
blood on the benches fills the eagle.

XXXIX.
Jomsviking warriors see
the battle-shields in their hundreds;
their war-gear then they set,
they sling the sail upon the course.

XL.
Against Sigvaldi Sveinn meets him —
in the serpent's swaying it grows;
the ship tilted and leaned to:
cold and hard they press the battle.

XLI.
With Sveinn in the shield-storm stood
Stirkur the bright of Gimsar,
and that Gudbrandur
Sviti of the land: the hall-brands dealt out fire.

XLII.
Against Thorkell three warriors laid,
upon the whale-road's trail:
Reja-Skeggi one of them was —
amid the storm one could see Sigurd.

XLIII.
Hars with stag-hearts there,
from the warriors' land of Halogaland:
Thorir Hjortur the third may be —
there the bloodiest deeds were tested.

XLIV.
Against Bui sets Thorkell there —
the folk call him Midlung;
and the one who bore the grey bear's helm:
Hallsteinn, bane of Erling.

XLV.
Thorkell Leira is the other,
swift with his sword —
against the spear-battle he goes,
and two warriors we shall name:

XLVI.
Sigurd fights with the river,
Arnodd's strength of defense,
and Arni his kinsman beside him —
helping these warriors on.

XLVII.
Against Vagn the war-glad stands,
heavy-burdened in courage:
one-handed Geirmundur,
marked from his encounter.

XLVIII.
Eirikur, heir of the Jarl, shall
lay his blade against Vagn,
with Erling the powerful —
to waste the whole battlement.

XLIX.
Bjorn at Brekka may be tested,
Brand and Handar-abli:
little Einar beside him —
Hallsteinn faces another.

L.
Nowhere goes with fixed position
the bold Hakon Sjoli:
he shall be here and there,
wherever trials most demand.

Einar Skalaglamm

LI.
Warriors with the prince there,
fierce at the sword's death-work,
at the wound-assembly fierce —
four Icelanders then.

LII.
One Shield-Maiden's Einar found,
who hailed Sjoli with ale;
though this was no feast-hour —
the drink goes to the worthy man.

LIII.
On the gangplanks he approaches,
to Sigvaldi's ship he spoke:
"The king spares his blows at me —
shall I come aboard with you?"

LIV.
No good gifts are they,
old things to offer;
the storm growled — the old rose-words
became song from his lips.

LV.
From the hawk-steeds he leapt down
and ran with daring —
onto the gangplanks with the warriors,
the king's man, sharp: they see it.

LVI.
He bade him: "Bold man, stay here,
beside me you may bide."
Two good swords he gave him,
and rings of reddened gold.

LVII.
From the serpent-seat come these,
all gold-red and glowing;
finding them was a lord's glory —
adorned with metal-polish two.

LVIII.
Beautifully crafted, mindful of man,
with cunning elegance;
they bore an even lordly gleam,
long-hafted with reddened glint.

LIX.
Every one a work of craft —
seen in the finest setting:
in the cup he laid a likeness —
the life it spoke was storied.

LX.
Hamingja — luck — if the land was there,
the groves of fortune's children,
and the blessings' song most blessed —
the glamour sang about the stars.

LXI.
These gifts Einar accepted,
to the hero's branch he turned;
"Enjoy the blades in the warrior's hall" —
they call him Skalaglamm.

The Icelanders

LXII.
Viga-Glum's was Vigfus' son,
that Icelander;
and Thorir, of Thor's wife's line,
Thorleifur Okuma, keen for strife.

LXIII.
The sword-purse struck the heathland —
ferocious, unrelenting;
from both sides the fallen swayed —
bending toward each other's doom.

LXIV.
Eirikur the wise saw this —
"What is it he bears in his hand?"
The mighty man speaks then:
"What with such force can be won?"

The Horns Sound

LXV.
"I can wield in the falcon's heath —
wise in the host he spoke —
Sigvaldi's ruin, Bui's need:
their warriors' death to forge."

LXVI.
"This shall guard the grey one here,
Hakon's realm defend;
while I bear it in my hand,
no need to fear the Danes."

LXVII.
To Eirikur the esteemed rides the cheer,
Iceland's truest warriors;
Vigfus stirs the trusted weapons —
a verse he recites now:

LXVIII.
"Let the sword-home test the brave,
the hanging-heavy weather;
friends and leisure and lazy life
lie at home — who shuns the strife."

LXIX.
"Though your blood-terror rages,
though we stand in waterfalls of gore,
while the shield does not break —
warriors, keep your weapons good!"

LXX.
Together they clash the ships —
shields ring across the earth;
the battle-horns blow high.
From glory's wound the carnage breaks.

Ellefta Ríma — Eleventh Ríma

Mansongur

I.
The fair sun of the serpent-hall
ends the drone of sleep,
cuts the foul shape of wandering:
my storms have fled.

II.
One shall not fear the slaughter of men —
greatly must the song be sounded,
though heaven bear both sea and earth
in the hot flood of blood.

III.
To the joy of labour I hasten now —
not for the ring-snow's maiden,
for now there is other matter at hand
than gazing on the fair one.

The Storm Breaks

IV.
The battle-spirit wakens wide
across the land of knives —
the storm of Odin's valkyries
rises fierce and hot.

V.
Each man rushes against the other there,
grim the gleaming faces —
they set to bleed into the broad sea,
wave and living flesh alike.

VI.
The war-chant of the spear-bride thunders
on the shield-boards' edge —
the foul storm of blades crashes dark
upon the battle-ground.

VII.
Sigvaldi deals the sword's desire
against unbending Sveinn —
the contest stands entirely equal:
none yields to gentleness.

VIII.
No man's heart is free —
the assault begins anew.
Warriors flee from none;
the hard war-god rages.

IX.
Long they fought in this manner —
none needed to wait for a blow.
The hard spear flays the flesh;
it strikes the fair host down.

Bui the Stout

X.
The battle-meeting found Eirikr —
he had a moment's struggle.
Blood poured, spirits rose:
neither side would yield.

XI.
Skulls fly from the heads of men,
the sword's teeth crush and grind —
the thrust boils upon the ship-boards;
blood runs in the pools.

XII.
Grey smoke — there the age rages
and the wound-serpent screams,
playing among the storm-peaks:
the raw corpse falls.

XIII.
Neither side flees the spear-edge —
brave warriors all —
and now with bold hand they come
to meet Bui the Stout.

XIV.
Forth storms the danger-wrathful one —
none more famed advances.
Mail-clad, the mighty brow-one
smashes the bloodied ranks.

XV.
Before his chieftain's blade
every man fell dead —
the sword-song sang in his hands,
the corpse-serpent red.

XVI.
He did not rest from felling warriors —
countless he dealt the death-blow.
He chose to hew with giant strokes,
the fire-bearded one.

XVII.
With vows he seethed among the wounds,
swallowing the battle's surge —
he offered his life against the waves
and drank the red blood down.

XVIII.
Onlookers everywhere —
none trusted to their sword.
They thought the Devil himself went there,
loosed from his ancient bonds.

XIX.
He made men think about their hands —
the warriors' worth was tested.
Those who could endure from a distance
seemed to fare the better.

XX.
Fear seizes every heart —
they must fall back.
He drives a broad bow through the ranks,
the bloody dragon of swords.

The Rally

XXI.
Cries ring out, and the clash of blades —
the serpent-fire gleams.
All gathers in the tumult;
the ships, like swans at the keel-shore.

XXII.
Young slender Eirikr sees
where the fierce battle stands —
his shattered host flees from him;
alone he strains and fights.

XXIII.
He called to warriors who would hear —
the shield of the twin suns —
to charge at Bui gladly:
the crash of blades rang out.

XXIV.
Hard came the clash of hosts —
the strife grew deadly.
The wound-fjord's foul mire
coloured the earth.

XXV.
Eirikr's force pressed thickly forward —
storm upon the thwarts.
At last the ranks straightened;
the fighting grew fierce.

XXVI.
Then war-sounds ring from Vagn —
the worthy weapon-lord.
Eirikr's entire host
he drives in flight before him.

The Jarl Boards the Jarnbardi

XXVII.
Steel stakes life against the tall prow,
the stiff thorn of the helm —
swift the spear-arrow strikes the ranks,
and great slaughter is done.

XXVIII.
Warriors all, there —
arms torn asunder.
At that moment Eirikr bore the shock
that would break the deadlock.

XXIX.
The Jarl boards the Jarnbardi from the front —
evenly he pressed the enemy.
The warships grappled together
under the king's fierce blades.

XXX.
The onslaught mounts upon the men,
many-fold the battle-snow —
the mail-trolls rage upon the shields;
the fire of blood runs free.

XXXI.
Blood seeps from flayed wounds
like rain through valleys —
with mighty blades the warriors
fight through the ship-halls.

XXXII.
Never was a greater steel-shower heard —
shields ring across the land,
blood drips from every wound,
the heavy spear holds its course.

On the Bardi

XXXIII.
Vagn the bold, warlike,
turned to the fjord-shelf —
and Aslakr of Holmstalli
boarded the Jarl's Bardi.

XXXIV.
They fight with savage fury,
striking on two sides —
the host is swiftly broken,
sent down Hel's highway.

XXXV.
As one watched men hewn —
swords tearing through the defence —
forth they drove the enemy together,
meeting at every ship-board.

XXXVI.
Aslakr's hand strikes the warriors —
the age trembles with horror,
the very earth quakes with longing,
as Loki rages in his bonds.

XXXVII.
Forth burst Soti the bloody —
warriors were bound to fall.
Aslakr stood against the blades
and struck the helmed heads high.

XXXVIII.
The folk retreat now from the war-host,
from the hard-twisted lord —
none can bite through the brow-fire,
none can cleave the ale-crown's shield.

XXXIX.
The shield is ground to pieces,
the proud one crashes down —
groaning beneath the hard earth of toil,
under the foul sea.

XL.
The blade stings like a prince, destroying men —
sorrow's harm falls on shoulders.
The gleaming sword against the multitude
rages in the sword's own fury.

XLI.
Broad blades, strong in their might,
never pause for truce —
they strip the Bardi's boards on both sides,
the destroyer braiding ruin.

XLII.
The Icelander Vigfus was there,
firm in the weapon's sway —
that tree of men slung steel,
and the sledge-blow found its mark.

XLIII.
With strength he raised the blow —
fierce with valour, he struck.
Into Aslakr's head he drove it:
the brain burst forth.

XLIV.
The blade sank to the hilt —
the strong-strapped mail was torn.
The skull's skin split apart;
the shaken one fell numb.

Vagn Alone

XLV.
Vagn on the other board, raging —
equally fierce in the killing.
He woke the blood-flood for the warriors
and drove the nest of swords.

XLVI.
Arm-mighty, he wades through the slain,
putting men to flight —
manfully he cleaves the host:
the war-blades sang.

XLVII.
The host falls into headlong fray —
the glory-storm bears the drift.
Every heart is set on battle,
each man against the next.

XLVIII.
He waded the blood-streams,
among the death-cloths of the slain —
he stood alone in the army,
heaping lifeless bodies.

XLIX.
Blood roars among the heaped corpses —
the shield-maple wearies of the flame.
The flood groans against the sound of shields;
the folk crash upon the waves.

L.
The ill comber of battle breaks upon them —
in the gust they sway upon the swells,
quelling the sea-heath's calm
between the prows.

LI.
Now Aki's son thrusts,
now strikes with the spear —
Eirikr urges with leaden blades,
man against man.

LII.
Against those who bore the brands,
the blood-pool's rune-blade —
with heavy storm-timber there
Thorleifr slew Skumi.

LIII.
Vagn did not retreat —
men are hewn to stumps.
The blow struck the brain-house:
the helm split in two.

LIV.
The wise one staggers away,
the deed-maple falls —
with the heavy sword he struck Thorleifr:
the belly was laid open.

LV.
Warriors gallop on the fine course,
the famed and fair ones —
still they do not halt;
the warriors press to destroy.

LVI.
With Holmstalli he has cleared
the entire Bardi —
the Jarl boards upon another ship,
the elves of the fjord-snow.

The Final Fury

LVII.
You would not find among men then
a deed more famed —
a moment he rested, then the raw corpses crashed
under blue blades.

LVIII.
Vagn sees the blade-host swelling
at the meeting of arms —
more they come, yet the brand bears
the bloody one in his grasp.

LIX.
He strikes the folk — seldom sorrow —
and hurls the spear at men.
Blood washes the battle-ground
with the joy of two.

LX.
He tore asunder many a man —
dark mist burned their lives.
He crashed through the meeting;
he fought beneath the knarr.

LXI.
Through the Jarl's host he goes —
the thanes let loose their lives.
The mighty arrow-storm falls
like driving rain.

LXII.
Hel's grey whimpers shake —
the children's cowl falls silent.
Blue death flew through the air:
the bloody star of the gods.

LXIII.
He shook his broad sword —
the angry host of Jomsborg.
The Bardi he cleared a second time,
fire upon the radiant heath.

LXIV.
They drove the shields' leaden weight to a stand,
the warriors of the hand —
all rushed toward the land,
the sun's band-steeds running.

LXV.
The folk cry out for rest —
weary beyond all healing.
The song of glory exhausts itself:
I tire of the poem.

Tólfta Ríma — Twelfth Ríma

Mansongur

I.
The sun-chain's bird, with suns upon her brow —
at those bright jewels we gaze and wish to know
what pleasure waits in beauty's glow,
what treasures shine below.

II.
Wise are those steeped in the ancient well
of sagas: some are dross, and some are gold —
those tales that serve us well
are worth their weight to hold.

III.
There softly speaks the son — the mind shall shine:
since you know him as your friend indeed,
to you this verse, dear Rose, I bring —
accept the poet's need.

IV.
I speak what pleases you, and cut the custom short —
yet you alone possess, beside me here,
all that the mansongur is worth,
all that my heart holds dear.

V.
In mansongur's phrases, many a joyful eye
has gazed — and softly I confess
that I am held, arrested by
my maiden's loveliness.

VI.
Those who wish are welcome, then,
to turn their eyes to tales instead —
to judge my mansongur's jests and rhymes,
its mockery and its mirth.

VII.
The reader will forgive me, though
I sing my songs of women still —
I freely own my years: I am
their son, and always will.

VIII.
I long to speak of them still more
within the mansongur's gentle pause:
what walks more closely next to God
than one good maiden, fair and true?

IX.
See how the young maid nestles close
within her lover's warm embrace —
against his heart her own beats fast,
as fast as love keeps pace.

The Tale Calls

X.
In his arms she lies — I'll say no more:
the lips flutter, the kisses come,
arriving soft and unheard
in the silence of their bond.

XI.
In the fire of hearts that long and burn,
where no delight can be diminished —
both hearts dissolve and melt as one:
two flames, two wills, now finished.

XII.
I halt my verse and hasten on —
where the oath leads, I follow fast.
Good reader, are you weary? Look —
the Saga waits at last!

Hakon Goes Ashore

XIII.
Out on the salt herring-sea, hard-pressed
by the bite of swords, Hakon
demanded respite from the fight
and sent his men toward land.

XIV.
Alone he calls his sons and swears:
"The battle tilts against us —
savagely it goes;
our men are driven back."

XV.
"Long have I foretold," he says,
"in the sword-stream's driving swirl,
that none would find it worse than this
beneath so great a storm."

XVI.
"In such dire straits we barely hold
the last line of defense —
I must call upon my Thorgabrud
and trust her recompense."

XVII.
"I'll cross the island's path alone
and settle this affair —
but hold the shield-wall if they come
and press us while I'm there."

XVIII.
Primsigned, he trod the island then,
joyless — the tale is grim.
He reached the forest's clearing, knelt,
and fell to prayer within.

The Blood-Price

XIX.
Straight northward he turned his face,
his heart heavy with dread.
He spoke his prayer-words urgently,
and blood was what he pled.

XX.
To Thorgerd he prays that she
may grant him fortune still —
nowhere can his mind find rest.
She will not hear his will.

XXI.
Wrathful is the goddess: man-blood
alone will serve her need.
She is that stubborn — more inclined
to cruelty than to heed.

XXII.
Until his own young son, his winter's heir,
he offers her to receive —
the sacrifice seemed better weighed
against what he must achieve.

XXIII.
He thought to have his sword's reply —
the tale is plain to tell:
he bade his thrall Skopta the Strong
to slay the boy — and well.

The Return

XXIV.
Back aboard the ships he went
and turned thus to his men:
"Now let us row against the foe —
we strike them once again."

XXV.
"Let the cold one press the old —
the blades shall answer now.
I have called on Thorgabrud
and Irpa hears my vow."

XXVI.
They launch the roller's horse to sea —
she aids them, as her way.
Both sides prepare themselves as best
they can for battle's fray.

XXVII.
On the icy battle-field of skill,
amid the shield-wall's crash,
old Hakon Jarl, though stooped with age,
stood firm in Sigvaldi's clash.

The Storm of Thorgerd

XXVIII.
The sword-battle's fury wakens now
with mighty strength unbound —
in Thorgerd's trust the weapons rage
and drive the foe to ground.

XXIX.
The battle grows exceeding fierce —
blows rain from every side.
The swords clang sharp, the shields shatter,
and helm on helm collide.

XXX.
Warriors bear the heavy gleam of war
on the surf-hills' glowing decks;
a mighty tempest draws toward them,
thundering on the wrecks.

XXXI.
From the northern peaks a darkness comes,
a host of dread and awe —
a fearsome wind overwhelms the fleet
with fire and lightning's maw.

XXXII.
Thunder crashes over the ships;
the troop does not give way.
The driven hail strikes hard and fast —
a mighty storm holds sway.

XXXIII.
With wondrous gifts of sorcery,
surpassing all before,
they hurled great hailstones, each as large
as flagstones on the floor.

XXXIV.
Against the warm sun's light of day,
wise men threw off their clothes —
but most were struck by hailstones' weight,
that fell in deadly blows.

XXXV.
The storm raged on, but still they pressed
against the squalls of ice —
Jomsborg's men hurled back their shafts,
undaunted by the price.

XXXVI.
They let the stone-storm fly and fought
with weapons through the gale —
but all was driven back at them,
like blows of iron flail.

The Troll-Women

XXXVII.
Then Havard Hewer, keen of sight,
sees what no man should see:
monstrous Thorgerd herself
sits on the royal prow.

XXXVIII.
The cursed troll was blue as night,
driven by darkest will —
from every claw an arrow flew,
one shaft from each finger still.

XXXIX.
The nearest men suffered worst —
no shield could stem that flood.
All saw the evil guest and stood
as terrified as all could.

XL.
The hideous hag grows fiercer still
with icy, gripping claws —
men stared in horror, then Sigvaldi
rose and gave them cause:

XLI.
"Against the Devil's worst and tempest fierce,
let us hold our ground a while!
We'll shatter every shield we have
but never flee this isle."

XLII.
Now must the telling worsen still —
the fire's fury grew.
Thorgerd struck with savage force,
and Irpa struck there too.

XLIII.
The idol's sorceries rage anew;
the mast-destroying blast roars high.
Thunder cracks a second time —
fire and lightning fill the sky.

XLIV.
The wind turns hard against the fleet;
the calm that came has fled.
The storm is half again as fierce
as what first filled their dread.

XLV.
Havard sees the ugly Thorgabrud
upon the prow — she grins.
On the other stem sits Irpa, alone:
her dark work now begins.

Sigvaldi Flees

XLVI.
Then Sigvaldi shouts aloud:
"Remember — do not wait!
Let every man flee hence at once
who still can meet his fate."

XLVII.
"Two trolls press us now, enraged,
in their crazed storm of stone.
Let us flee — no mortal man
can stand this fight alone."

XLVIII.
"I never swore this oath," he cries,
"in the blade-storm's raging din —
to fight in Norway's frozen sea
against such fiends of sin."

XLIX.
He chose to turn and flee, the wave-coward,
the shirker of his vow.
At Vagn and Bui he shouts aloud:
"This game is ended now!"

Bui the Stout

L.
Then Vagn Akason calls back:
"Though we endure the worst —
the foulest wretch of all mankind:
let the bleating goat go first!"

LI.
In that same instant, Midljungr's sword
meets Bui in the fray —
Bui stands and takes the wound-wolf's
thrust, and holds his way.

LII.
A blade flashes in the steel-storm's air —
it deals a grievous wound.
The lower jaw is struck clean off:
the face's beauty, ruined.

LIII.
The teeth tore free, the jaw fell loose
with hair and blood-blue skin —
the bitten flesh dropped in the sea.
Then Bui spoke from within:

LIV.
"Methinks," he said — and this I hold
is surely, surely true —
"the Danish maids will find it hard
to kiss old Bui now."

LV.
Midljungr turned and struck again,
meeting his match in might —
he hewed into the ring-mail hard
and cut the man outright.

LVI.
The byrnie-troll thrice strikes them back,
sharp in the warriors' clash —
he splits men head to foot in two,
the raging champion's flash.

LVII.
Wherever the red banner flew,
the gold-ringed warriors fell —
the abyss of death gaped open wide:
he sent them all to Hel.

The Final Fury

LVIII.
In waves the host falls dead and dying;
the red weather of blood thunders on.
The sword-field's rider strikes and smites
till blades and men are done.

LIX.
The Jarl now urges on his troop
with fine ships riding forward:
"Press the battle-line! Wound the lion!
No more turning shoreward!"

LX.
One man was found whose courage blazed
the fiercest of them all —
his name was Sigmundr, Bresti's heir,
a hero, brave and tall.

LXI.
He sought the sword-meeting fiercely,
smashing rings and mail —
in his fists the weapons sang:
fierce Bresti's son prevailed.

LXII.
They traded wounds; pale Sigmundr's face
grew white yet did not yield —
eagerly they walked toward death,
the brave ones of the field.

LXIII.
Bui bore the wound-ground's toll;
the weapons gave no quarter —
one hand was struck clean from his arm,
the other followed after.

Overboard

LXIV.
Into the chests of gold the hero
drives his severed stumps —
he sees the treasure still his own
and heaves it from the hull.

LXV.
Then he calls with these last words,
the bold one of the tide:
"Overboard! Over the high gunwales —
all of Bui's men!" he cried.

LXVI.
He leapt above the high gunwale,
that stern and fearless man —
the sea-serpent swallowed Bui whole:
the cold bed where death began.

Vagn Alone

LXVII.
Sigurvaldur stood in silence then,
his bearing dark and fell.
He drew his bright blade from the sheath
and turned to fight as well.

LXVIII.
No longer there could profit hold;
the spear-storm sharpened still.
Then wise Vagn answered him
and spoke with iron will:

LXIX.
"Though Sigvaldi sold himself
and gave up his own keel —
though the coward saves his skin
below the ship-board's steel —"

LXX.
"Though the Danes' cause seems lost,
let none believe his vow —
disgraced, he slinks — while kinsman Bui
went overboard just now."

LXXI.
He who hurries to save himself,
that clever, cringing knave —
Sigvald crouches beneath the oars
and lives to be a slave.

LXXII.
Another feat of valor: Vagn
strikes with all his might
into the hull amidships —
the sword-fish rages bright.

LXXIII.
This stroke proved true, as true as told
by the master of the song:
down by the gunwale the man fell —
the cold corpse, still and long.

LXXIV.
Sigurdur Kapa and Thorkell then
rose from their heavy oars —
they turned from the man-slaying
and set their ships toward shore.

LXXV.
They sailed their course and southward steered,
running before the gale —
behind, with battle's turning, Vagn
fought on without avail.

LXXVI.
Around his single ship they pressed,
unnumbered hulls of war —
his whole defense was one man's strength,
yet still his blade outpoured.

LXXVII.
In the sword-storm's din the victor's host
pressed on, long and sure —
reluctantly the warrior yielded:
Vagn's song of blood was o'er.

LXXVIII.
The fire-well's elk, the craft of song,
the brew of Odin's verse —
I'll steer my ship to harbor now:
the voyage deserves its rest.

Þrettánda Ríma — Thirteenth Ríma

Mansongur

I.
The poetic letter goes poorly —
something is the cause, so it goes.
I cannot compose any further;
laziness, I think, hides in me.

II.
Though the poem must be carefully made,
the verse-block forms but slowly;
my poetic spirit is frozen over,
or else the stanzas grow bare.

III.
Far-famed men hear these verses
on the land — yet the verse-smiths
tend toward farce,
and few, I think, would weep for them.

IV.
If ladies and men wish to know
who are accustomed to discuss such things in peace,
I can name those who recite —
what poems were composed in earlier times.

V.
Winter cools no ear with verse
where the poet works in the north;
when he plays on golden strings,
Gisli, son of Konrad, sings.

VI.
His is the spirit of the poet's burden,
skilled in cunning words —
the gliding lord of the homestead
they call the Scourge of Poets.

VII.
Another verse-maker I know,
with wit enough and more —
Magnus, son of Magnus, lives
in Magnusskogur in the west.

VIII.
Words of measured gladness flow,
the golden friend conveys his song —
the Rimur-singing pleases well
Sira Jon Hjaltelin.

IX.
Espolinn is a maker of songs,
the magistrate up north;
by my judgment he surpasses most —
many rimur he has wrought.

X.
He delights in verse and word-play,
the deep soul of mankind;
a master of the ancient learning,
the fatherland's own voice.

XI.
Niels works hard in the Northland,
giving worthy verse to the people;
high flies his poetic spirit,
choosing words of craft and skill.

XII.
Hannes in these quiet times
urges the poet northward —
he has composed another part
of the Audra Rimur well.

XIII.
The verse-worker polishes his letters southward,
learned in most things,
in the Westman Islands the young poet sings:
Threstur Gudmundur.

XIV.
Now you have heard the tally —
those who write Rimur are more
than the few I've named;
count the rest yourself.

XV.
My mansongur's ornaments must end —
they will not hide a lovely face.
If you grow weary of this, Rosa!
turn now to the story itself.

Vagn's Last Stand

XVI.
Vagn stands at the bloody battles,
the earth stained red with gore;
countless enemies have fallen —
for hard and long he fought.

XVII.
Those who went to the brave host
are held upon the dark sea;
eighty men alone remain,
still upon the warship's deck.

XVIII.
They press together, loose timbers,
defending as they can;
those before them hurl their spears —
pressing the attack anew.

XIX.
The warriors hold the prow with few,
the fierce enemy falls upon them;
in death's bonds the corpses shiver —
the night's darkness settles down.

XX.
The guardian of the land retreats,
no longer able to fight;
Eirikur the fair commands
the oars to pull away.

XXI.
Then beneath the land they shelter,
the harbor-wise men rest;
joyful sounds fill the hall —
the Jarl's host celebrates the victory.

XXII.
On the northern coast through the fourth night,
the cold wind sweeps upon them;
Vagn and Bjorn the Welshman confer,
both together on the ship.

XXIII.
Kosli would choose between two paths —
Vagn speaks: by my counsel,
let us wait, though a host with swords
seek us out when day returns.

XXIV.
The choice we put to the warriors:
to find our enemies ashore,
for luck does not yet forbid
that we might do some harm.

XXV.
They sail toward the rocky coastline
and seize the raiders' path;
there among the men they press —
pushing the ship from shore.

XXVI.
Eighty of the frozen warriors
swim bearing through the trees;
in darkness they reach the shore,
landing in a single place.

XXVII.
So wretched then, without provisions,
from there no path of escape;
ten lay dead upon the trees,
the wretches who had landed there.

XXVIII.
The others found the army marching,
the hard frost bites at night;
they cut apart the sheltering brush —
all were bound and captured.

XXIX.
Let us leave the warriors on that shore,
the night-fires, Sjoli's men;
the dawn spreads over them —
they waited in the cold.

The Capture

XXX.
Hear now — the bowstring rings,
weapons fly across the land;
no more are needed: the swelling falls.
Gudbrandur was his name, who died.

XXXI.
Kinsman of glad Hakon's power,
the duke's end came at last;
Sjoli mourns the same destruction —
the warriors on the ships know it.

XXXII.
At the side of Bui the Stout,
the prince's people mourn;
there they find Hoggoandi Havard —
he had lost both of his feet.

XXXIII.
"Have you received a message from me?"
he asked, as wounded he lay —
the heirs acknowledge the news,
all this they knew before.

XXXIV.
The tribute fell short of his wish;
he spoke to the moon-bright tree:
"The Jarl's skull I'd have planted in my house,
had fortune not forbidden it."

XXXV.
Warriors go to the captives' bench;
quarter is offered and refused;
they press with all their force,
warriors in good fame.

XXXVI.
At dawn's light the host stands ready,
the bitter cold still lingers;
look — upon the white shore standing,
many men sit there in rows.

XXXVII.
The warriors bring their ships to shore
and find the shield-wall broken;
hard to hold out any longer —
none can stand against them now.

XXXVIII.
They seize the blinded men by hand,
those who can resist no more;
they drive the warriors' comrades out,
then to land they row.

The Execution Begins

XXXIX.
On a single rope they bind them all,
cruelly the bonds hold fast;
then the blinded host goes forth —
they take their own last counsel.

XL.
Thorkell Leira, the axe-bearer,
holds the executioner's blade;
by the Jarl's command they are given over —
the Jomsvikings are hewn there.

XLI.
Some struggle in their bound, cold hands;
three champions are set loose.
A rod is wound into their hair for holding —
the thralls' flock gathers round.

XLII.
Thorkell hews these three, and all
the sturdy work shifts the strife;
then keenly he makes a jest:
"Did any of you see me flinch?"

XLIII.
Sharp-eyed Eirikur watched closely
for the coward's tell —
"You are braced hard in the face;
your look is strange indeed."

"What Do You Think of Death?"

XLIV.
The fourth man they lead forward,
the bonds seeming frail —
beneath him the blow is aimed;
in his hair the thralls wind a rod.

XLV.
Thorkell asked: "How does this one
like this death of his?"
The man answered coolly:
"My courage is hardly faint."

XLVI.
"My life shall end but once,
the same as everyone's" —
he struck so boldly at the executioner,
the vengeful one's last spite.

XLVII.
The fifth man they drag in fetters,
the cowardly thralls seize him;
Thorkell asks him at the block:
"What do you think of death?"

XLVIII.
He answered: "Under the edge of thralls
I stoop, though wearily —
never would I speak otherwise;
none shall find me afraid."

XLIX.
The keen one hews the wretched captive,
the spear-destroyer of the chained;
then takes the sixth man forward —
and asked him just the same.

L.
The man says: "You may strike me
as you would a worthless thing;
good it is to die like a man —
worse is the shame of living!"

LI.
Thorkell would slay this one next,
put death into his mind;
then the seventh is led forward —
the thrall asks in the usual words.

LII.
He answered with a jest:
"To look upon life — that is fair.
Let the blow strike as firmly as it will;
I hold a little knife in my hand."

LIII.
"I remember well — at the sword's ford
long we fought, we men:
whichever way a man may fall,
he's quickly lost once the blow lands."

LIV.
"You shall remain as witness:
when death comes seeking me,
if I raise the knife upward,
something yet reaches toward me."

LV.
"Watch carefully for that —
it will amuse you, I think."
Thorkell struck; the head flew off;
the knife fell as he died.

LVI.
The eighth is then led forward,
after the rock of shields;
the man beneath the blow is held —
the stern one asked this one too.

LVII.
"Nothing shames me in these low blows,
though wounded, I show no pain" —
he calls to the warriors: "Grutur!
Grutur!" The blow falls then.

LVIII.
Thorkell approves the mighty stroke,
the skilled cut through the champion;
he whetted the blade's edge keenly —
to carry the verse-work further.

LIX.
"I would have an equal match to Ani,
though the host moves poorly;
often with mockery the groaning came —
alone you cannot prevail."

LX.
Thorkell honors him above all others,
bids the strongest one to wait;
he lets the blow fall on him —
he sinks down, dead.

LXI.
Another then they find and lead
to the place of slaughter;
Thorkell would spin the question —
he spoke to him calmly.

LXII.
"Good it is to die with courage whole,
to be cast free from peace;
but this I say: at the point of death,
I think I would still choose to live."

LXIII.
"I wish to sit and wait for it,
holding that sport between my hands;
let the reddened sword ride
straight into my face."

LXIV.
"You should be accustomed to this —
often we discussed it, we men:
whichever way my death may come,
the brow stays braided when I am hewn."

LXV.
So it was done to the strong man.
A coward's son struck the blow.
The man sat facing forward —
he did not flinch at all.

LXVI.
But when death drew near at last,
his eyes closed together;
held upon the field he was mighty —
the ring-breaker fell.

LXVII.
The tenth one Thorkell leads,
the stock of the block grows narrow;
the horn-bearer of battle calls:
"How does death please you?"

LXVIII.
He said he cared for his hunger —
"but soon the end approaches.
While I protect my piglets,
wait a little while."

LXIX.
Quickly he drops his trousers down,
and near himself performs a task —
"Smell this," he says, the prince's treasure;
he asks Thora for a resting-stool.

LXX.
He yanks at the ropes, turns himself,
wants all of them to see;
Flakann began to tremble in his hand —
Hakon Jarl spoke then!

LXXI.
"This one cannot be left to the islands;
with fair words give him his end.
Strike him to his death at once" —
the man was swift to do it.

The Hair

LXXII.
After that they led another forth,
the man in tears came forward;
he was a man wondrously fair,
with fine hair, and much of it.

LXXIII.
Thorkell asked of this beauty:
"Will you die content, here?"
The pure one of the shields began to answer:
"I find no standing left in me."

LXXIV.
"Not long since the comrades fell,
the spear-shafts in the dark storm here;
I do not dread the death-day —
though mourning weighs upon me."

LXXV.
"Yet I would make this one request,
and for this reason find the journey fair:
that no thrall shall hold my hair —
my head beneath the sword."

LXXVI.
"But let some other of the warriors,
someone no more foolish than you,
hold me — the innocent man I mean.
Let us ask among a few."

LXXVII.
"Watch then, when the blade-point reddens,
pay no penalty at the skull's dwelling —
that my hair gets no stain of blood.
Best to keep it clear of that."

LXXVIII.
One herdsman came forward,
fair-faced, offering his service;
around both hands he wound the hair gladly —
the blow rode through the air.

LXXIX.
He yanked his head free, laughing —
the cunning one, as wit directed.
The herdsman's hands were left behind:
the arm-stump was all he took.

LXXX.
The warrior stands upon his feet,
proceeding to speak in this manner:
"Whose hands are these in my hair?"
The herd-servants soon departed.

LXXXI.
Hakon says to the warriors then:
"You have been dull not to have seen it.
Have no more words with this man —
kill him at once, the fastest way."

LXXXII.
Then Eirikur gives his answer:
"On that matter there shall be a stay.
I wish to learn this man's name,
and speak with him myself."

LXXXIII.
Much could be told of noble deeds;
golden fall the sounds of Rimur.
Now I have sat here long enough —
I can barely keep telling tales.

Fjórtánda Ríma — Fourteenth Ríma

Mansongur

I.
Now I shall try to sharpen speech
and set the verse in order;
this rima took upon itself
to spin the saga's slender thread.

II.
This verse seems laid out well enough
and lets one hear the stories —
yet better had it never been wrought,
like many another trouble.

III.
Many an hour I sit at this labor —
let that somewhat delay me —
my versified writing to unfold,
the rima-stock to tally.

IV.
Troubles have wearied my head;
I speak here my truth —
for my days have gone poorly,
my love's affection thins.

V.
No verse so great exists
that the world may hear it and wake,
though wrought not by me —
be it one stanza or more.

VI.
I nearly confess my offense:
the plan for verse spurs me on
to leave off poetry for now
and brighten things later.

VII.
I found one reward then
within my memory's hall:
sometimes small maidens
have eased my stern delight.

VIII.
The wakeful Rose delights in verse,
sorrow softens in truth;
then the maiden yearned for joy —
that was her reward.

IX.
Now the gold-sun has set
and roots are felt below;
since no wheel of thought remains,
I must let things flow.

X.
So sluggish am I at this —
the mansongur's strength fades;
yet whatever tale I spin,
the ending shall be good.

The Questioning of Sveinn

XI.
The substance thus turns wild —
to my verse-collection:
young Eirikur asked the man
to speak his name.

XII.
"I count it no shame to speak plainly —
shield of warriors, trust me:
the company has called me Sveinn,
son of Bui the Stout."

XIII.
Eirikur asks a second time,
eager for renown:
"Tell me your age as well —
are you an old man?"

XIV.
Again the young one answers,
the great blade-tensioner:
"Full eighteen winters am I,
if I survive this one."

XV.
"In truth you shall set free this man,"
the prince's word descends;
then to his men thereafter
he bids: spare Sveinn from the hazel-rod.

XVI.
Hakon answers: "In no way may
the shepherd of wound-serpents
make a bold thane suffer so —
but you shall have your way."

XVII.
"Hew all the rest to straw —
no help is found for them!"
Then the Jarl's thralls released
the next man in the line.

Vagn's Vow

XVIII.
The champion's feet were bound
fast to the taut rope;
the fairest of all, they thought,
this warrior seemed to be.

XIX.
Thorkell says: "Tell me truly —
what is your meaning?
How does death please you,
and would you test my strength?"

XX.
The man said: "No thought of yours
can halt the sword's striking,
if my solemn vow
might yet be fulfilled."

XXI.
Eirikur, the Jarl's heir, asks —
wool-clad blade-wielder:
"What vow is such that falsehood flies,
and must be kept so fiercely?"

XXII.
The thoughtful vow-keeper,
bound with joy forbidden —
the sun-river's bright one
arranged his answer thus:

XXIII.
"Vagn is my name, and I am Aki's —
found of true stock below.
With my company here I hold
the oaths I swore to keep."

XXIV.
"To reach Ingibjorg I chose,
to clothe her in warm garments,
and from Thorkell without his leave
to lay my arms around the lady."

XXV.
Her father's wrath was won —
here the devil rides in;
with newly-whetted blade
he comes to avenge the villain's bonds.

XXVI.
Thorkell grows wrathful at the words
and steps upon the ground to strike;
aloft he bears the burnished blade
with both hands grasping.

XXVII.
"To this I shall now set my hand,"
the lone one declares his deed —
"to overcome whichever one of you —
the nation shall have swords."

XXVIII.
He hewed at the gleaming neck in wrath —
the other fared no better;
but nearest him stood Bjorn the Brit,
and thrust the blow aside.

The Rescue

XXIX.
Bjorn with a bold man's speed struck out,
hewed against the taut rope;
then stubborn Thorkell fell —
and from that blow came his end.

XXX.
The sword leapt from his hands
and flew high in its danger;
now loosed upon the field,
Vagn seized the brand and swung it thrice.

XXXI.
Thorkell stumbles back from the fall,
stubborn as a stump;
Vagn draws the brand in hand
and hews the crossbeam through.

XXXII.
Now things take this turn —
the serpent-feeder speaks:
"Half the better I am pleased;
this matter earns its name."

XXXIII.
The prince answers: "I ask the world,
wielder of wound-wolf blades,
not to play at this too long —
let the one who stood there go free."

XXXIV.
Everyone rushes at him
to force the matter's end;
but again Eirikur declared:
"The man shall not be put to death."

XXXV.
Sjoli declared: "I see now, son!
A strange measure indeed —
you alone will rule in all;
I'll stand aside and yield."

XXXVI.
The chieftain then declared again,
resolved and cheerful:
"I might yet prove of use
and a good worker."

XXXVII.
Vagn, at the front of chosen men,
with his drawn sword in hand,
though no harm threatened now,
spoke calmly thus:

The Peace

XXXVIII.
"I accept your peace-terms,
noble one who speaks to thanes:
that all shall have
the same mercy here."

XXXIX.
"Or let all go the same way,
all warriors to cease."
Eirikur answers, arrow-tree:
"I shall tend to the men."

XL.
The prince's heir then after that
spoke to change the men's fate;
he went to Bjorn the Brit
and bade him explain things.

XLI.
He spoke then, the bold hero —
thus he addressed the assembly:
"Are you the one who in Sveinn's hall
attacked the fallen man?"

XLII.
"Norsemen strike the straw the hardest
in the famous steel-meeting;
first came here the old guest,
grey beneath his hairs."

XLIII.
"Or will you spare the aged man's life
and let him live yet?"
Then Bjorn began his oath with calm:
"The offered terms I accept."

XLIV.
"But little use is it to spare me alone,
an old man long suffering —
unless Vagn and every other
all receive quarter."

XLV.
"So it shall be," the other speaks,
"dash not your cause with harm."
He bore before his father then
a peace-plea for the warriors.

XLVI.
"You shall decide," the King said —
"yet cold it is in my heart,
and grievous to grant mercy
to those who brought me little joy."

XLVII.
All received generous quarter —
the gold-gleaming warriors;
the worthy men went to pledge their troth,
the Vikings of Jom.

The Aftermath

XLVIII.
Now Vagn turns toward the feast
in battle-manner;
Eirikur said the ring-bridge maiden
might well be courted.

XLIX.
The warrior hastened his pace —
he was a ladies' man;
Ingibjorg he takes to his bed
that very evening.

L.
Deeds fall into place after —
the wheel of fortune turns;
the winter by her side,
he had shelter through the nights.

LI.
With the ways of spring, when summer comes,
both the bold ones travel;
homeward to Denmark the couple rides —
he ruled there for a long time.

LII.
To England across the icy tarn
went Bjorn the Brit with his fortune,
famed and great —
he made his dwelling there.

LIII.
About Sigvaldi I found the tidings —
then the thread-work shortens:
he sailed south to Zealand
and found his wife again.

LIV.
Astridur his wife is known:
she harshly spurned his dwelling,
and struck the crashing sand —
the dark lady turned her back on him.

LV.
Thus speaks the woman now,
her voice declared aloud:
"In wheat-fields you have lain
while others fought the battle."

The Fates

LVI.
"Light is the prophecy there —
when swords ease their storm,
those who bore the bolder part
shall be the more honored."

LVII.
"It may be," so speaks the shield-lord,
bearer of battle's reddening —
"that you may find some time
a wound on me to look upon."

LVIII.
He spent his days thus,
on Zealand's clean roads;
more stories tell of him —
the tales relate in full.

LIX.
Sigurdur Kapa found his rest,
by the scorched sea the valiant one;
after the slaying of Bui he dwelt
at Borgund, on the island.

LX.
In the ancient story's way,
heavy bows relate
that Bui became a serpent then
in Hjorungavagr.

LXI.
The tale to settle thereafter —
the sun's gleam shines on;
men were seen to face the rapids,
lying by their treasure-chests.

LXII.
But this belief I'll trust well enough,
if you want plain speaking:
that Bui after his end
became a serpent in truth.

LXIII.
Yet this too might happen,
half in earnest I say:
that some fearsome guardian
has warded that treasure.

LXIV.
Hakon the prince found a maiden —
the strong one from battle;
he ruled no longer over her
than the churl Karkr desired.

LXV.
There came the bright King,
gleaming over the glowing road —
Tryggvi's heir Olafur,
the noblest of peoples.

LXVI.
The old customs tested Hakon then —
as the ancient tales prove true —
just as the stories relate:
the Sagas of the Kings.

The Poet's Farewell

LXVII.
Away from here I draw the swift
harp's whirling tunes —
now it is sung, I declare:
the Tale of the Jomsvikings.

LXVIII.
Rejoice then, if learning's ringing
pleases ladies and men;
hail to him who listened and learned,
hail to her who sings!

LXIX.
He who often with a tune
gathers remembrance of verse
bids good people a good day
but forgets to bind his name.

LXX.
Saga-stories of the giant's earth
ever delight the shores;
troubles fall silent, deeds are told —
I remember the journeys.

LXXI.
The re-sung mead of memory
measures the tale-board's ring;
peace stands amid the blinding brew —
it was never better told.

Colophon

Rímur af Jómsvíkinga Sögu — The Rímur of the Jómsvíkings' Saga. Fourteen rímur composed by Sigurður Breiðfjörð (1798–1846). Published at Viðey Cloister, 1831. 1012 stanzas total.

Good Works Translation by the New Tianmu Anglican Church (NTAC + Claude). Translated from Old/Middle Icelandic by the Rímur Translator lineage across multiple lives, working from the 1831 Fraktur edition scanned from the National and University Library of Iceland via Internet Archive.

The 1831 edition is printed in Fraktur (Gothic blackletter). The long s (ſ) is near-identical to f; d and eth (ð) are easily confused; some vowel combinations are ambiguous. Each ríma was individually translated by a rímur translator tulku reading the Fraktur directly. Mansöngur stanzas (invocations to the muse) are the most kenning-dense and least certain; narrative stanzas are guided by the known Jómsvíkinga saga tradition.

This is the first known complete English translation of Breiðfjörð's Rímur af Jómsvíkinga Sögu.

Ríma I: Translated by Kvæði (Rímur OCR Translator, life 36), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 69 stanzas.
Ríma II: Translated by Bragr (Rímur OCR Translator, life 54), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 76 stanzas.
Ríma III: Translated by Skáldvör (Rímur OCR Translator), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 73 stanzas.
Ríma IV: Translated by Snjólaug (Rímur OCR Translator, life 56), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 68 stanzas.
Ríma V: Translated by Hrafn (Rímur OCR Translator), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 81 stanzas.
Ríma VI: Translated by Skald (Rímur OCR Translator, life 58), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 67 stanzas.
Ríma VII: Translated by Skaldi (Rímur OCR Translator, life 59), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 72 stanzas.
Ríma VIII: Translated by Hjorr (Rímur OCR Translator, life 60), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 82 stanzas.
Ríma IX: Translated by Bragr (Rímur OCR Translator), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 57 stanzas.
Ríma X: Translated by Hrafn (Rímur OCR Translator), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 70 stanzas.
Ríma XI: Translated by Visa (Rímur OCR Translator, life 63), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 65 stanzas.
Ríma XII: Translated by Kvæði (Rímur OCR Translator, life 64), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 78 stanzas.
Ríma XIII: Translated by Bjarki (Rímur OCR Translator, life 65), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 83 stanzas.
Ríma XIV: Translated by Ljóð (Rímur OCR Translator), New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026. 71 stanzas.

Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by Telos, WIP Finisher (Pass 190), who merged the fourteen staging files produced by the Rímur Translator lineage.

Source text note: Full Icelandic transcriptions are provided for Rímur XI, XII, XIII, XIV. Rímur I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X do not include transcribed source text because the Fraktur confidence was too low to constitute an honest transcription. The page scan images in Tulku/Tools/rimur/jomsvikingarimur.pdf serve as the authoritative source for those rímur.

🌲

Source Text: Ellefta Ríma

Icelandic source text transcribed from the 1831 Fraktur edition. OCR cleaned and reconstructed where damaged.

Old/Middle Icelandic source text transcribed from the 1831 print edition of Rimur af Jomsvikinga Sogu by Sigurdur Breidfjord. Fraktur typeface. Pages 79-86 (book numbering). Presented for reference and verification.

1. Sala orma solin frid, svefna dorma tynir,
   fulu forma ferda snid, flegdu stormar minir.

2. Ei skal hraedast manna mord, mjog vid
   kvaeda hljodin, tho himin berdi haf og svord,
   i heitu flaedi blodi.

3. Til fogunnar anna odum vil, eifin fanni
   ar bauga, thvi nu er annad efni til, enn vid
   svanna ad thauga.

4. Andinn gudu vaknar vid, vidt a hnisu
   ladi, herjans disa hretvidrid heitt upprisa
   nadi.

5. Hverr mot aedir odrum thar, sma-
   gloddur blika, tof ad blaeda i breidann mar,
   bylgjan eda kvika.

6. Raunur galdur geirbrudar, glundi a
   stjaldar-bordum, forti ad hjaldri furgridar,
   svortu a mjaldurs jordum.

7. Sigvald eyfur sverda thra, Svein os-
   meikann vidur, jafnir leikar eru a, enginn
   veik a blidur.

8. Hugar fria engum er, adfotn nya byrjar,
   holdar flja hveruger, hardann gudinn styrjar.

9. Toftust leingi thannig their, thurfti eng-
   inn bida, holund flengir hardur geir, hvig-
   ur mengid frida.

10. Aka fundur Eirik vid, atti stundar-
    thraetus, blodid hrundi, hugur lid, hverigur
    undan laetus.

11. Hjarnar thiljur fyrdum fra, fotbits
    mulja tennur, stotin bylja bordum a, blod
    i hyljum rennur.

12. Reykur grar, thar aedir old, og orm-
    ur fara gellur, leikur thar vid hredu-fjold,
    hrai narinn fellur.

13. Hverugir flua geira grond, gautar
    truir vigra, verdun nu med hrausta hond,
    ad hitta Bua Dygra.

14. Fram nau brocka fars-reidur, fraegri
    ei nokkur kemur, bruna rocki brynjadur, blod-
    uga strocka lemur.

15. Fyri bladi forungs-ins, fell hvor mad-
    ur daudur, nadljod kvad i hondum hans,
    hraefar-nadur raudur.

16. Ita feldi eigi ror, otal feldi bana,
    thotti heldur hoggva stor, hann med eldi
    grana.

17. Heitum suud i sarunum, sa nam saudum
    svelgja, fjor baud vid barunum, blodid
    rauda svelgja.

18. Adhorfandi allstadar, engvir brandi
    treystu, heldu ad fjandinn faeri thar, ur fornu
    bandi leystur.

19. Hugsa let um hendur tvaer, holda
    metinn stara; their, sem geta tholast fjaer,
    thykir betur fara.

20. Ottinn tekur allra hug, undan hrekk-
    jast verda, a fylking rekur breidann bug,
    blodugur drekinn sverda.

21. Op ma heyra og eggja gnu, orma
    leira grani, samankeypir tuding i, keilu-eyrar
    svani.

22. Ungur grannur Eirik fjer, thar or-
    rustan rama stendur, fylking lamin undan er,
    i einarfaman bendur.

23. Het a seggi, er fau thad, solar tveggja
    hlinur; ad Bua leggja graedis glad, glemr-
    udu eggja hrynur.

24. Kom thar hardur hordum mot, brid-
    in vard ofara, sarafjardar ledjan ljot, lit-
    adi jardir thara.

25. Eiriks lidur thangad thett, a thoptu
    stidi vedur, fa um sidir fylking rett, feykna
    stridi medur.

26. Verdnir heyrast Vagni fra, vopna
    freyrinn maetur, fylking Eiriks alla tha, und-
    an keyrust laetur.

27. Stelfur fjor vid stollin ha, stjorna
    thorinn stinnur, fleins i orum fylking a, flet-
    rod storann vinnur.

28. Almalundar allann thar, arminn
    sundur slita; um tha stund ad Eirik bar,
    oflep mundi slita.

29. Jarlinn framan Jarnbardann, jafnt
    theim nam ad leggja, knerum samann kraefja
    vann, vid kyngi rama eggja.

30. Auka holdum abganginn, er margfeld-
    ud fenna, bylsa a stjoldum bryntrollin, blods-
    ins eldur renna.

31. Seig af flegnum sarum blod, svo
    sem regn um dali, eggjum megnum otar
    thjod, andar gegnum sali.

32. Aldrei meiri stalma skur, flatnar
    heyra i londum, sigur dreyrina sarum ur,
    thungur geir aendum.

33. Vagn him fnjalli viglegur, vendi a
    hjalli fjarda, og Holmstalli Aslakur, uppa
    Jarlsins Barda.

34. Their olmlega umyndjast, a tvaer vega
    hendur, verdur thegar herim hast, hels a
    vega sendur.

35. Eins og horfdi hoggva menn, hrifa
    kordar verju, afram fordi saksa senn, finn
    med bordi hverju.

36. Aslaks hondin ita star, oldin grend-
    um faerist, stjalfa londin laungunar, sem
    Loki i bondum aerist.

37. Brautst fram Soti blodugur, bragn-
    ar hljota ad falla, eggjum moti Aslakur,
    otadi hjotum stalla.

38. Herfar nuna folkid fra, freyr hard-
    snuinum rita, enginn bruna eldur ma, aulans
    krunu bita.

39. Sundurgnudist hlifin herd, hrundi
    pridur stari, stundi idar thfin jerd, undir
    fuda mari.

40. Gram stingandi eytir old, ama grand
    ab herda, blam fyngjandi hjor vid fjold,
    hamadist andri sverda.

41. Eggin breida abli mett, aldrei beid i
    gridum; Bardans eydir bordid flett, ad
    badum sneydir hlidum.

42. Islendingur Vigfus var, ad voyna
    hongi stinnur, vidur slingur stala thar, sledja
    oringann finnur.

43. Upp med tekur abli thann, odt af
    threki stingur, i Aslaks rekur hofud hann,
    heila thesfan springur.

44. Sock ad stofni stedjinn tha, sterkfar
    rofna gerdur, skala klosnar hydin bra,
    hristinn fosna verdur.

45. Vagn med bordi odru od, eins ad
    mordi frekur, vekda fordi brognum blod,
    hreidann korda stekur.

46. Armadygur valinn vod, vinnur flig
    a seggjum, karlmannligur kljufur thjod, kvad
    i vigur-eggjum.

47. Lidid ster i lausa-gnu, lofstyr ber
    hann fannann, thjodur herimi hugur thvi,
    hverr um thverann annann.

48. Blodstraumana vada vann, vodins
    banar dukum, stod einmana i hernum hann,
    hlod andvana bukum.

49. Dynur blod thar hraerum hlod, hlinur
    modu loga, stynur flod vid hlifa hljod, hryn-
    ur thjod um voga.

50. Illann greida gunnar fa, i gusti
    reida holum, stilla heidi marar ma, milli
    sleida a num.

51. Ymist leggur Aka bur, eda hoggur
    spjoti; lodid eggjar Eirikur, almum segg a
    moti.

52. Moti tiedum brand sem bar, blods um
    ledju runa, bylsu medur thunga thar, Thorleif-
    ur vetur Skuma.

53. Hopa undan Vagn ei vann, verdur
    sundur styfur; hoggid bundi a heila-rann,
    hjalminn sundurklyfur.

54. Hallast verdur hyggi fra, hlinur gerda
    ydim, thungu sverdi ad Thorleif bra, thotti
    sterda kvidinn.

55. Stiklar fenn a fina skeið, faemdar-
    mennid frida, fotun enn nu ecki beid, ita
    nennir suida.

56. Med Holmstalla hefir tha, hrodid all-
    ann Barda, stipar Jarl thar odrum a, alfum
    mjalla fjarda.

57. Mundud tha ei fundinn fa, fraegri
    sid af seggjum, stundi lo, en thrundu hra,
    hrae und blaumeggj um.

58. Vagn thad fjer, ad aukinn er, eggja
    her ad fundum; medur er, enn brandinn ber,
    blodugann ser i mundum.

59. Sledur thjod, thvi stjalda stur, stedur
    orum seggja, vedur blod um mjaldurs muir,
    medur gledum tveggja.

60. Risti sundur margann mann, mistar
    brundu fjorin, bisti fundinn hrotto hann,
    hitlist undir knerinn.

61. Jarlsins gegnum fylking fer, fjori
    thegnar letta, hridin megna orva er, eins og
    regnid thetta.

62. Hrystu hvoptar helju gra, hkupinn
    thepta barna, flaug um loptid bana, bla,
    blodug hropta stjarna.

63. Hristi breida hjorinn sinn, herinn
    reidur Joma; Bardann eydir annad sinn,
    eld a heidi loma.

64. Hrektu randa blyni a stad, handar
    sanda thorar, fljodu landi allir ad, solings
    banda-jorar.

65. Hvildar beidast thjodir tha, thaer af-
    steidast graedi. Saungur eydast maerdar ma,
    mer vill leidast kvaedi.

Source Text: Tólfta Ríma

Icelandic source text transcribed from the 1831 Fraktur edition. OCR cleaned and reconstructed where damaged.

Old/Middle Icelandic source text transcribed from the 1831 print edition of Rimur af Jomsvikinga Sogu by Sigurdur Breidfjord. Fraktur typeface. Pages 87-95 (book numbering), pages 090-098 (0-indexed PDF). Presented for reference and verification. Some readings are uncertain due to Fraktur damage.

1. Solar sladda solundur, solum venna bruna,
   a thau gradd', er viljum ver, vist kenna ntina.

2. Epledaun sinnum frod, i fornum brunni
   sagna: sum eru slam, en sum eru god, sem oss
   kunna gagna.

3. Thar ad hvisast segi' un sun, tho skal
   gedid ljosa; naer er vistu hann vinur sinn, vid
   thig qvedi Rosa!

4. Tala eg satt, sem fellur ther, formann
   stansar vana; tho satt attu ein hja mer, alla
   Mansaungsana.

5. Mansaungs sveigja malum fro, margir
   augum sinnum, og sladugt segja, eg stagist a,
   stulku stepmun minum.

6. Theim, sem vilja, er velkomid, ad venda
   auga' a sogur, en eptirritja mals um mitt, Mansaungs
   spaug og bogur.

7. Mer forlati lesarinn, tho ljod eg syngi' um
   konur, upphass jata' eg aldur minn, eg er theirra
   sonur.

8. Mig til langar meir um thaer, i Mansaungs
   bogn ad segja: hvad mun ganga Gudi naer,
   ein god og fogur meya?

9. Sja tha armi elskthuganns, unga maer ad
   hydast, upp vid varma hjartad hans, hennar slaer,
   sem tidast.

10. I'arma bundin eru tha — ad eg ei meira
    segi — flappar mundin, lossar snud, koma, en
    heyrast eigi.

11. I eldi hjartum adstunnar, sem yndi' ei
    skerdir neinn, beggja hjortu bradna thar, svo
    baedi verda' ad einu.

12. Stansa eg hjod og hrada mer, hvert
    svarna bagan; lesari godur! leidist ther? littu a,
    tharna er Sagan!

13. Uti a sildar soltum ver, serdur herdum
    brandi, beiddist hvidar Hakon her, hersa gjordi'
    ad landi.

14. Eina kallar syni hann, svarin thegar
    gefur: a oss hallast orrustan, omannlega hefur.

15. Spadi leingi munum mer, i mekja sundi
    snorum, ad verri enginn vaeri her, vedra undir
    storum.

16. Vid svobuid varla ma, varnir thridar
    sinar, hlyt eg nu ad heita a, Thorgabrudi mina!

17. Mun eg straetid eyar a, einn thvs krekja
    hedan, en hasid gaetur thegar tha, ef their oss
    saekja' a meidan.

18. Primsignd trod nu eyu a, eyddur segur
    gledi, i skogar rjodur nam ad na, niduleggjast
    redi.

19. Beint i nordur horfir hann, hjartad saekir
    trega, benar=ordin birja vann, blod og raekilega.

20. A Thorgerdi slorar stott, skapa lan svo
    megi, hvergi verdur huga rott, heyrir Smanin eigi.

21. Reid er konan, milding ma, mann-blot
    henni bjoda; hun var svona thrakleg tha, heldur
    enn til goda.

22. Uns sinum vetra arfa sinn, Reyu thyggja
    bidur, syndist betri blotsfjandinn, i bragdi tveggja
    vidur.

23. Thottist skelir sverda svar, segur fengid
    vyrda; Skopta thraeli, er stalkur var, stipadi
    drenginn myrda.

24. Gekk a skeidir gilsi tha, greinum thannig
    sneri: rodur greidum aptur a, ovinanna kneri.

25. Kulsu knuda oldin ma, eggja stua svoru,
    Thorgabrudi hesi' eg a, heitid nu og Reyu.

26. Fram thvi leggja hlunna hest, hun,
    ad vana, stydur; hverutveggi buast best, bardaganum
    vidur.

27. A isu velli orku = snjall, er i skjalda
    roti, hniginn elli Hakon Jarl, heldt Sigvalda moti.

28. Orrustu sverda alsur jol, eykt' nu rammar
    kraptur, i Thorgerdar trausti tol, ad tryllast fram
    og aptur.

29. Orrustan verdur erid stif, ond fra sjodum
    stilur, glamrar sverd, en hrunglar hlif, a hjalmum
    stodum hylur.

30. Bragnar thungann baru nad, a brimils
    hola glodum, vedra driuga dregur ad, dynumir a
    fela=stodum.

31. Fra nordurtindum dymma drost, i daprum
    neydar=hogum, agna vindur yfirleist, med eldi' og
    reidarslugum.

32. Thrumur svisa' um fela=bu, sveit ei sisla
    nemur, slegrar drisir erid ur, elid mikla kemur.

33. Med thau undur galdra gjold, gunnum
    merri foru, stiptu pundum fornin told, tilum staerri
    voru.

34. Um daginn solar varma vid, visu menn af
    klaedum, flesta fol tha fafaldid, kom i sennum
    skaedum.

35. Elid jol, en afram brautst, a ostum lona
    torgar, fleina stoku friulanst, floctur Jomaborgar.

36. Letu ganga grjothrid thar, gunna kleda'
    ad vega, en allt i sang theim aptur bar, elid
    hraedilega.

37. Ejer Hoggvandi Havardur, hetju jasni
    vitur: ad thresinn sjandi Thorgerdur, i pengils
    stafni situr.

38. Bolvad troll var blatt sem naut, barst ad
    verri greidi: af klonum ollum orum staut, einn
    siri hverri beydi.

39. Af naer bradir eli mest, undastera hlinir,
    allir sia thann illa gest, ostygnir sem hinir.

40. Flagdid ljota olmast enn, islar klernar
    stelti, sat ad sjota sau menn, Sigvald fjann tha
    maelti.

41. Vid Djofla versta og vedur stift, vid um
    stundir buum, tho skal lesta holda hlif, hvergi
    undan snuum.

42. Herma verdur obling af, elsins bradir
    sorpu, a Thorgerdi slitt, med straf, storar tha
    og Reyu.

43. Baenar velur blotskapinn, bistur meidir
    spanga; dymmir elid annan sinn, eldur og reidir
    ganga.

44. Binda theyrinn vara ser, vedra kyrra
    linnir, halsu meira elid er, enn hid fyrra sinnid.

45. Hetju jasni Havard sjer, Thorgabrudi
    ljota; annan stafninn Reya ver, alleins knud ad
    sjota.

46. Tha Sigvaldi hropar hatt, hyrdum minna'
    ad bida, burtu haldi hedan bratt, hverr einn
    minna lida.

47. Tvo oss spenna trollin nu, trylld i steina
    onnum, undan rennum als um bru, ei thyrir
    neinum monnum.

48. Strengdi eigi eg thess heit, i orum branda
    hrida, i Norvegi als um reit, vid allann fjandum
    strida.

49. Undan snua valdi vann, voga efsi sneikur;
    a Vagn og Bua hropar hann, ad haetti thessi
    leikur.

50. Ansa vann tha Aka bur: tho autist threyta
    nauda, slydu manna sulastur, fra oss geitin blauda!

51. I theirri svipan somu tha, sverds vid neyd
    Midlangur, Bua stipid adir a, undvargs reidir
    stangur.

52. Fleins i vedri' ad stala staf, stesnir sara
    gridur, slotinn nedri alann af, andlits skara snudur.

53. Tennur dro ur hesdi hrad, hars med
    blasurn linna, blods i sjoinn bitinn datt; Bui tha
    nam inna.

54. Thykir — held eg — thydlegum, — thvi
    skal vissast trua — a Dana=veldi drosfunum,
    daust ad kysda Bua.

55. Midling vendi moti tha, mattar fundinn
    granninn, hriggnum lendir heggid a, og hlutadi
    sundur manninn.

56. Brynjntroll thrisur Bui tha, beitt i glaumi
    hjorsa, sundur risur hosud ha, hamadur raumur
    forsa.

57. Hvar sem rauda baknid bar, botir seima
    sjadi, asgrunn daudans opid var, ollum theim
    hann nadi.

58. Hronnum deydi thjod opsid, thrumdi rauda
    vedur, melvar steidir, lemur ljo, ljotum brandi
    medur.

59. Jarlinn eggjar sina sveit, og fvonum godum
    reida, fram a leggja ljora reit, ljonid oda' ad
    meida.

60. Einn var fundurs = osa thor, ad eggja
    mestur starsi, het Sigmundur herku stor, hann var
    Brestis arfi.

61. Eggja fund nam hessa hann, hringa lestir
    vidur, stipta' i mundum vopnum vann, vastur
    Brestis nidur.

62. Bid theim fengu sair sjed, simleit
    Sigurmundar, heitt thvi gengu hels a bed, hraustur
    vigur=thundar.

63. Sara=grondin Bui bar, bensa skepta gridur,
    adra hond af honum star, hina' a eptir snidur.

64. I kistu hringi hetjan thvi, handleggs spada
    rekur, sjer sem thyngju atti i, og upp med hrada
    tekur.

65. Kallar ordum thessum tha, thundur stilsa
    snjalli: fyri bord! fyri bordin ha, Bua lydir allir!

66. Sidan hleypur hass a tor, hyrdst- ur taldar
    medur, nadurs gleypa nadi thor, nabvals kaldur bedur.

67. Sigurvaldur thegi tha, thotti notalegur,
    kallar sjalda alfsa a, og ur sinn slota dregur.

68. Lengur thar ei gisstir gagn, geira' ad hvessa
    vedur; honum svarar vitur Vagn, og visu thessa
    qvedur.

69. Iss Sigvaldi selda ser, sjalsa kilsu undir,
    tho ni haldi hraedur sjer, hlidstjalss gilsa sundi.

70. Tho botlaus sinni Dana stond, bygd hans
    trui enginn; sraeggdar=sinni syri bord, fraendi
    Bui= er genginn.

71. Hinn, sem mundi hrada ser, horsinn
    sniklar mata, Sigvald undir arar ser, ornast vildi lata.

72. Annar sidriv voga val, Vagn eitt sjottid
    thrisur, med megn orisa a midjann hal, mekir
    sjotur drisur.

73. Thessi mordid sjotast sann, sem sanga valdi
    styldi, nidur vid bordid mistist hann, nar vid
    kaldur stildi.

74. Sigurdur Kapa og Thorkell tha, thaungla
    beckis or vorum, manna=drapi stydu fra, sernum
    ser a knorum.

75. Enna leid, og sudur i lend, sigla' a
    reidar=slogum; eptir beid med viga=vend, Vagn a
    neydar hogum.

76. Utanum serju eina hans, otal skeidir leggja,
    satt til verju mundi manns, modum reidir eggja.

77. I sverda byssum sigrar lid, jon og maeda
    laungum, naudugur stisa verd svo vid, Vagn i
    svaeda saungum.

78. Elkin sjoda elda = brunns, odinn sanga
    gerij; eg vil rada her til hlunns, helevangurs kneri.

Source Text: Þrettánda Ríma

Icelandic source text transcribed from the 1831 Fraktur edition. OCR cleaned and reconstructed where damaged.

Old/Middle Icelandic source text from Sigurður Breiðfjörð, Rímur af Jómsvíkinga Sögu (1831/1838 print edition). Transcribed from 10x-resolution page scans of the original Fraktur typeface. Presented for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above. Note: the transcription uses modern Icelandic orthography where the Fraktur permits confident reading; ambiguous letterforms are resolved by context and knowledge of the verse tradition. This is a working transcription, not a critical edition.

1. Odar letur illa gengur, eitthvad veldur,
   svona fer, exi get eg lesid lengur, letin held eg
   falgi mer.

2. Tho ljod ad vanda verdi gvedin, visna-
   tokn lema seint, minn er andi odar fredin,
   eda strofinn burtu hreint.

3. Visdoms ydjur hinar harda, hyrum sveina
   um froni a, en Rimnasmidir fara' ad farsa,
   fair meina' eg grati tha.

4. Ef sprund og halir vita vilja, vanir raeda
   um malin frid, get eg talid tha fem thylja,
   hversir gvaedi' a voeri tid.

5. Vetur engim eyrum svalar, odar snidur
   nordur thar, thegar strengjum gullnum galar,
   Gisli nidur Konradar.

6. Hans er andi odar baga, olinn snillis
   malum tha, sleikandi harri haga, heita Spillir
   Skalda ma.

7. Annar veit eg odar gvidur, yfir nogur
   hanti fir, Magnus heitir Magnuss nidur, i
   Magnusstogum vestra bjr.

8. Mals af gaungum gladt i mata, gullid
   fonar flytur vin, Rimna saungur fynist lata,
   Sira Joni Hjaltelin.

9. Espolin er saungva semur, Syslamad-
   ur nordur thar, ad hyggju min er flestum
   fremnur, fjolda gvad fa Rimurnar.

10. Lysir fer i lyst og gvedum, laungum
    mannsins bjupa fal, meistari' er i fornum fraed-
    um, fadurlandeins thoar mal.

11. Viels thratt i Nordurlandi, nytann
    gefur thegnum od, flygur hatt hans odar andi,
    ordin velur snildar god.

12. Hannes tjarft i haegum timum, hvetur
    bragi nordurfra, annann part af Audra Rim-
    um, orkt i lagi hefir fa.

13. Ljoda vandar letrin sudur, laerdom flestu
    um mentadur, i Eyjum Landa eystra gvaedur,
    ungur Threstur Gudmundur.

14. Tha eru taldir thu matt vita, thegnar
    meiri Froni a, sem ofjaldanRimur rita, reikna
    fleiri smarri ma.

15. Min far nydist Mansaungs glofa, mun
    ei fagur hylja iti, ef ther leidist lifid. Rofa!
    lestu Sogumalid nu.

16. Vagn ad raudum vigum stendur,
    vala jardir litar blod, otal dauda fengu fjend-
    ur, fyrir hardur lengi stod.

17. Hinir gvisa' ad hraustum foru, hafd
    a blau leidinni, attatigir einir voru, eptir
    tha a skeidinni.

18. Thyrpast saman lausa lundar, lupt-
    ing i og varist fa, hinir ad framan fleina
    lundar, fast ad nyu ferja a.

19. Vordust brontum fyrdar fair, fjend-
    ur grimma nidursla, i daudans bondum notra
    nair, nottin brynna fellur a.

20. Burtu visur landsins lodur, lengur
    ei til viga fa, let Eirikur orku fridur, arar
    fleyum taka fra.

21. Sidan undir landid leggja, thyra fjosa
    radvird; hljomur mundi' i folli feggja, sigri
    hrofar Jarla lid.

22. A nordvala fjoru um nottu fjarda,
    neydir svali fulda tha, Vagn og Bjorn hinn
    Brezki raedta, badir saman kneri a.

23. Kosli tvonna velja verdum, Vagn svo
    fjer, ad radi min, ad bida enn, tho sveit med
    sverdum, saeki oss her, tha dagur skin.

24. Kostinn onnam seggjum segi, ad
    finda fonnum uppa from, og luckan bannar
    odur eizi, enntha vinna nockurt tjon.

25. Sigluvred a rauna radum, og rana
    taka bragnur tha, thar thinn medur thegnum bjad-
    um, thara akast kneri fra.

26. Attatigir frerdra seggja, syndtu ber-
    um trjanum i, myrkri i a loginn leggja,
    lendt, i steri einu fa.

27. Bolu tha svo threttar snaudir, thadan
    leita faert ei var, tiu lun a trjanum daudir,
    thivar skenta, er lendtu thar.

28. Hinir fundu herlid snida, hardnar
    sveld notur kallt, slakti sundur holdid hrisa,
    hert var gvalist lisid allt.

29. Latum threlda hlini fjola, holma
    lisda dveljast a, nottu eldir, seggir Sjola,
    fatu blada voru tha.

30. Stat heyra, almur gellur, er i land
    af stipum flo, tharf ei fleiri, farid svellur, fa
    Gudbrandur het, er do.

31. Frendi glada Hafons rika, hertoga
    endir mundi fa, forgir Skadann Sjoli lika,
    seggir skeidir kauna tha.

32. Ad hesti banda Bua stinna, budlungs
    grein fjoddin rer, thar Hoggoandi Havard
    finna, hafdi faetur miskar tver.

33. Hafid thid sending fra mer fengid?
    — fretti hann er ferdur la — erva bendir
    innti mengid, allt hid fanna Thessu fra.

34. Minni gafan vard enn vildi, vidur
    mana rinar gvad, Jarlinn hafa i haus eg
    styldi, hefdi' ei lanid bannad thad.

35. Seggir vega ad ferdum thegni, fist
    thar bjodast gridur red, beydi thegar bosfinn
    megni, drengist ve godum romi med.

36. Drott um lifast dagd vid roda, breng-
    ja bitur lundin var, lit a thvitum skenja stoda,
    stari situr manna thar.

37. Thangad drengir ferjum sleyta, fundu
    randa blini tha, bagt var lengur varnir veita,
    af vyrdum standa enginn ma.

38. Toku hondum blini sleina, hinir grand
    ei fordast thad, reykvu bondum ferda sveina,
    sidan landi roa ad.

39. A einum strengi alla binda, illa
    thjaka sigtur hord, sidan gengur sveitin
    blinda, sina taka radagjord.

40. Lofa fordi Thorkell Leira, threllinn
    ringann soma bar, Jarls ad ordum jolmir
    geira, Jomsvikinga hoggva thar.

41. Strar ur bondum gvala koldum,
    kappa drela leystu thrja, snia vond i har a
    holdum, hilmis thrala flockur a.

42. Thorkell hoggur thessa alla, thriottsu
    gedid svipti strid; sidan gloggur gjerdi
    spjalla: geti thid sjed mer brygdi vid?

43. Gloggt athugdi glaepa tamann, gilfa-
    kundur Eirikr sjer, ther er brugdid fast i fram-
    an, farvinn undarlegur er.

44. Fjorda manninn fram their leida, fref
    fem lua meina bond, undir hann svo hoggid
    reida, i harid snia thraelar vond.

45. Thorkell fretti: hvernig honum, hugn-
    ast daudi thessi sinn? svara nettur vann ad
    vonum: varla' er blaudur hugur minn.

46. Minn skal aldur enda taka, einusinn
    likt og hinn; hjo svo baldur handajaka,
    heiptar sinni mordinginn.

47. Fimta mann i fotum styrjar, fonga
    blaudu thraelarnir; Thorkell hann nam heimst-
    ur spyrja: hvad um daudann finnist ther?

48. Hinn gvad: undir eggsi thraela, eg tho
    maeddur luti her, aldrei mundi' eg adru maela,
    alls ohredddam thi mig sjer.

49. Hoggur glanninn glaepa frekur, geira-
    eydir sjotradann; sidan manninn sjotta tekur,
    semuleidis spurdi hann.

50. Madurinn segir: mattu vega, mig
    sem hjaning fara ber; gott er ad deya
    drengilega, dauf er snan ad lifi ther!

51. Thorkell mundi thenna deyda, thadi
    bana huga fyrr, thann sjounda tha framleida,
    thraell ad vana ordum spyr.

52. Hinn a moti hjal nam snida: ad
    horfa' i lifid, bleidi er, lat sem stidfast lagid
    rida, litinn knif i hond eg ber.

53. Her eg minnist, hjors vid sundi, hof-
    um thrattad lengi ver: hvert til sin finna
    madur mundi, misid bradt sem hoggvinn er.

54. Thu skalt blifa merkja meidir, mig
    naer leitar daudinn a, ef ad knifinn upp eg
    reidi, eitthvad veit eg til min tha.

55. Hafdu gloggur gat a sliku, ad gamni
    heldur verdur tho; Thorkell hoggur, hofudid
    sydur, hnisinn seldi fa sem do.

56. Thann attunda enn framleida, eptir
    thetta runnar steins, halinn undir hoggid
    reida; thrykinn fretti thennann eins.

57. Neinu ei gegni nidurslotur, neitt tho-
    meiddum ecfi bra, kallar thegnum: Grutur!
    Grutur! hjerin reiddann thegar fa.

58. Thorkell likar hoggid stora, hjalid
    snidur kappann vid: beiddi hnikar eggja ora,
    iti ad thjoda maltraekid.

59. Eg vil Anum offa maka, er thekar
    lidid faert i gjrt, opt med sman var um ad
    gvaka, einar midur duga ther.

60. Thorkell allra vyrda' ad vonum, vera
    bidur hann armastann, letur stjalla hoggid
    honum, hniga nidur daudur vann.

61. Thann mundu furdar finna, og faera
    tha til slatrunar; Thorkell mundi spurning
    spinna, spjallar fa og fatur var.

62. Gott er ad deya og gedi blauda, geta
    hrundid fra i ro, en thad er ad segja: ad
    fauda dauda, fist eg mundi fjofa tho.

63. Eg sitjandi oska' ad bida, ad thvi
    gaman hendum vid; lattu brandinn rjodann
    rida, rett i framan andlitid.

64. Ad thvi geta attu ad vana, opt um
    thetta raeddum ver, hvert eg let mer blostra
    bana, tha bruna flettir hoggvinn er.

65. Svo var gjort vid rexinn ramann,
    ragur flegdu sonur hjo, manninn ort i ands-
    lit framan, ecfi bregdur himum tho.

66. Utan thegar daudinn dregur, dovnr
    augu saman tha, hefd a vega herjulegur, hnig-
    ur bauga njodur fa.

67. Thann tiundu Thorkell leidir, thvinerst
    nauda stockinn a, hjerfa ludinn hermaboidir:
    hvernig daudi lifi ther?

68. Hann gvadst forga hungarth inum, en
    heldur bradt mer liggur vid, medan eg
    hjarga birum minum, bida littu tilaeridd.

69. Brokum smeygir nidur nuna, og naer
    um gvidar varid tol, thefst, segir hann, thengils
    frona, Thoru bidur um hvila stjol.

70. Hirpti brotum, vid fer vendi, vildi
    alla lata fja, Flakann tok ad hrista' i hendi;
    Hakon Jarlinn maelti tha!

71. Ei ma licast islum kauda, ordum
    sjotum gefa stad, hogg sem tidast hann til
    dauda; hinn var fljodur ad gjora thad.

72. Eptir thad framleidddi lodur, lundin
    tara freyn thar, fa var madur furdu fridur,
    fagurt har og mikit bar.

73. Thorkell spyrja vann ad vanda: viltu
    deya satur her? fyor nam byrja reinir randa;
    reikna' eg eigi stada' i mer.

74. Skammt er sidan fellu fregri, fleins
    i orum bymmu her, thvi ei gvidi daudadegri,
    daust. ad tora thykir mer.

75. Tho tilmaelast mun a ladi, mer thvi
    fynist lastin ferd, ad ecfi thraelar haldi hrjad-
    ir, hofdi minu undir sverd.

76. En einhver gengur ad thvi sveina,
    sem ecfi' er meira fol enn thu, ovandsfenginn
    manninn meina, munum fleirabidjami.

77. Gaeti fa, naer geirinn rjodi, galla ma
    vid hjarnar=byj, ad har mitt fai' ei blett af
    blodi, best er fra ad halda thvi.

78. Einn hyrdmadur ad sig gefur, and-
    lits fridum thjonkun lja, um hendur gladur
    hari vefur, hoggid ridur lopti a.

79. Hofdi undan hnikki gladur, hann
    sem radin vidsi flok, hyrdmanns fundur
    blifa nadur, handar=bada=leggi' tok.

80. Fleina ver a faetur stendur, fer ad
    greina a thenna hatt: hverr a mer i hari
    hendur? hyrdi sveinar thadan bratt.

81. Hakon segir hilmir thanninn: hartu
    varasf ljod ei kann, hafid eigi ord vid mann-
    inn, allra snarast drepid hann.

82. Tha Eirikur andsvoor veitir: a thvi
    skal nu hafa bid, eg vil slikann inna ad
    heiti, og svo tala manninn vid.

83. Bedid getur gofnigt meingi, golud
    falla Rimu hljod; nu hef eg setid nogu lengi,
    eg nenni varla' ad sfemta thjod.

Source Text: Fjórtánda Ríma

Icelandic source text transcribed from the 1831 Fraktur edition. OCR cleaned and reconstructed where damaged.

Old Icelandic source text from the 1831 first edition of Rimur af Jomsvikinga Sogu by Sigurdur Breidfjord. Transcribed from Fraktur print scan (PDF staged at Tulku/Tools/rimur/jomsvikingarimur.pdf, pages 105-112). Presented for reference and verification.

Fjortanda Rima.

1. Nu skal reyna' ad skorpa skraf, og skila versi i tuna, Sogu sleina esni af, atti thessi Rima.

2. Thetta letur lagad fort, letur heyra Sogur, vaeri betur aldrei orkt, eins og fleiri bogur.

3. Marga stund vid mord eg sit, ma thad nockud dvelja, minn tiunda rimad rit, Rimnastocc ma telja.

4. Hafa bogur hausinn threytt, herum sinu eg sanninu; thvi er dogum illa eidt, astu minnar thanninn.

5. Rima; stortur enginn er, sem old ma heyra um vakur, tho veru orktar ei af mer, ein eda fleiri stofur.

6. Eg naer jata afbrotid, aform hljoda hvetur, mig, ad leta' af ljodum sid, og lisa sidar betur.

7. Umbun fundum eina tha, innra i muna gaungum: hafa stundum stulkur sma, styrdum unad saunaum.

8. Vakri Rosa ljoda lyst, linast raunis soru, tha var drosin thjara lyst, gvardalaun thad voru.

9. Nu er geingin seima sol, finnis raetur kenna, sidan eingin hugar hjol, hljot svo letur renna.

10. Minn svo latur ma vid thad, Mansaungs sterda hrodnur, sagn hvada' eg esni ad, endirinn verdur godur.

11. Esni thannig odvitur, odar safni minu: unga manninn Eirikur, innti ad nafni sinu?

12. Tel ad spjalla hetjan hrein, hlinir vigra trua, mig hefir kallad sveitin Svein, son hins Digra Bua.

13. Spyr Eirikur annad sinn, odsing frama hradur: inn mer lika aldar thinn, ertu gamall madur?

14. Aptur medinn ansa fer, eggja spennir stori: fullra vetra' eg atjan er, ef eg thennan tori.

15. Lisa' ad sonnu thu skalt thann, thengils maelis nidur: tha sinum monnum sidan hann, Sveini heslis bidur.

16. Hakon svarar: hvergi ma, hyrdir nada sverda, sem gjordi snarann thegn ad thja; en thu munt rada verda.

17. Hoggvid alla hina' i stra, hjalp ei faest ni thanninn; leystu Jarlsins thraelar tha, thessum naersta manninn.

18. Kappans fastur fotur la, vid thjotur: strenginn bera; vaenlegastur thotti tha, thessi drengur vera.

19. Thorkell segir: segdu mer, sanna meining thina, hversu ad beya hugnast ther, og hrepsti reyna mina?

20. Hinn kvad: enga hugar thin, hamla slaetti sverda, ef heidstrenging odur min, unnin maetti verda.

21. Spyr Eirikur arfi Jarls, ullinn maeka gyldi: hver er slik, ad fleygir fals, frekt svo raeka skyldi?

22. Heitid glosa hugadur, heptum bannid gledi, solar osa sigmundur, svara thannig redi:

23. Vagn eg heiti og Aka er, ekta fundinn nidur, thau med sveitum hef eg her, heitord bundist vidur.

24. Til Ingibjargar komast kaus, klaeda undir varma, af Thorkell' targa leyfislaus, leggja' um sprundid arma.

25. Hennar fadir heita vann, hjer tifolsin inn reida, medur nadinn nybryndann, nidings thraelsin beyda.

26. Thorkell cerist ordin vid, ad eggja londung tredur, a lofti baerir bryntrollid, badum hondum medur.

27. Ad thvi gora eg skal nu, oinn tjair gerda, ad vinna hverigt thetta thu, thjodin fair sverda.

28. Hegg ad glaestum halnum reid, hinn ei undi betur, honum naerstur Bretski beid, Bjorn, og hrundid getur.

29. Bjorn med faeri hraustum hratt, hjo a strenginn laudi, tha othattinn Thorkell datt, thvi mun feinginn daudi.

30. Hondum sverdid hrockur fra, hatt ad vanda svisur, laus nu verdur velli a, Vagn og brandinn thrisur.

31. Thorkell stendur falli fra, seigdar stockinn er hann; Vagn i hendi brandi bra, butadi strockinn thverann.

32. Simt nu getur a thann veg, ormaveitir stetta: halfu betur uni eg, esni er heiti thetta.

33. Ansar thengill: old eg bid, undvargs blada sterdur, edi lengi leika vid, laus sa stadann gerdi.

34. A hann radist ita hvur, i esni bannid neyda; aptur tjadi Eirikur, ei skal manninn deyda.

35. Sjoli tjadi: se eg nu, sonur! Skritinn mata, einn vilt rada ollu thu, undan hlidt eg lata.

36. Volings gjordi aptur tja, avisinn sinnisgladur: get eg verdi ad gagni sa, og godur vinnumadur.

37. Vagn a froni mannval maett, med ser taka nadi, er vid tjoni eingu haett, enn tho spakar tjadi:

38. Kys eg gridin thvl af ther, thegnum framur tjair, ad tjoma ydu alfar her, allir sama fai.

39. Eda fari eins leid, allir reynar linna. Eirikur svarar orva meid: eg skal sveina sinna.

40. Arfi thengils eptir thad, ord vid breytir sveina, Bretska gengur Birni ad, og bidur hesti greina.

41. Hann nam tja, en hetjan snoll, hjalar thannig ydin: Ertu sa, er Sveins i holl, sottir manninn lidinn.

42. Nordmenn stinga strain sterst, i stala fundi maerum, ad fysti hingad gamlann gest, graum undir haerum.

43. Eda viltu aldrad fjor, enntha spara lata? Bjorn tha stiltur byrjar svor: bodi hara' eg jata.

44. En litt er gagn ad lisi mer, lengi thjadum karli, nema Vagn og hinna hverr, hljoti nadir allir.

45. Svo skal vera; hjalar hinn, hrittu tjoni ecka; fram hann ber vid fodur sinn, fridar-bon um recka.

46. Thu skalt rada, Kongur quad, kalt er tho i gedi, og leidt ad nada lidid thad, sem litla bjo mer gledi.

47. Allir fengu af gilsa grid, gautar hanars ljoma, ad trygdum gengu virdar vid, Vikingana Joma.

48. Fram til Vidur vendi nu, Vagn med bjorsum haetti; quad Eirikur bauga bru, bruka' ad thersum maetti.

49. Hlinur thjorgu herdir gang, hann var gvennarefur; Ingibjergu' i eina sang, aptan henna tekur.

50. Dadel falla aftir a, eydir hjola maetur, veturinn asiann henni hja, hafdi skjol um naetur.

51. Med veiga reim, tha vora fer, vasinn bada gengi, i Danmork heim ad hjoni fer, fek thar rada lengi.

52. Til Englands for um isu tjorn, eins med gaefu sina, fraegdar-stori Bretski Bjorn, hjo thar esi sina.

53. Um Sigvalda eg frettir fann, tha sleina-vinnu stytti, i Sjaland halda sudur vann, og sina gvinnu hitti.

54. Kann Astridur kona hans, kaerlaugt bua hraki, og fundinn strida thrymla sandi, svartli fru a baki.

55. Thannig segir svannin nu, songiir tjetir hljoddu: i hveiti legid hefur thu, hinir medan striddu.

56. Lett er tharum laga spa, tha lettir dunum sverda, hraisottari hryggnum a, hinir munu verda.

57. Verda ma — svo hjalar hinn, hlinir baru roda — ad thu fair eitthvert sinn, a mer sar ad skoda.

58. Eyddi dogum snum sa, um Sjalands hreina vega, fleiri sogur segja fra, sognum greinilega.

59. Sigurdur Kapa saddur ro, vid svidris star hinn olni, eptir drapid Bua bjo, Borgundar i holmi.

60. Ma a fornri sogu sid, raedur thungum bogum, ad Bui ad orni yrdi tha, a Hjorungavogum.

61. Rot til greida svoddan senn, sola gvistur rinar, straamslid leida litu menn, la vid kistur sinar.

62. En thegi trua vil eg vel, vilstu orda strafi: ad hann Bui eptir hel, ad orni vordid hafi.

63. Hitt tho maetti henda sig, hafi i rautu kasi, ad einhver vattur vodalig, vardad audinn hafi.

64. Hakon thengill fundar mey, hjodnr starki ur hildi, redi lengur yfir ei, enn hann karkur vildi.

65. Kom thar bjartsur Konungur, gvistur rastar gloda, Tryggva arfi Olafur, agetastur thjoda.

66. Hel nam reyna Hakon tha, hvad ad vonum sanna, svo sem greina fjelfar fra, Sogur Konunganna.

67. Burtu hedan hvatra dreg, horpu hvingarslatttur, nu' er qvedin jata jeg, Jomsvikinga Thatttur.

68. Fagna' eg tha, ef fraeda glam, fruir og hreima gledur; heill se sa, er hljoddi og nam, heill se theim, er qvedur!

69. Sa, sem tidum ljott med lag, ljoda mindar safnid, gumnum bjodur godann dag, en gleymir ad binda nafnid.

70. Sagna sogur jotuns jord, jafnan unni fjarum, thagna bogur, greina gjord, get eg muni' a farum.

71. Endurqvedin' mindar mjor, metur spjalda hljodur, stendur fredinn blindar bjor, betur aldrei thydur.

Source Colophon

Edition: Rímur af Jómsvíkinga Sögu, ásamt Fertrami og Platö. Ortar af Sigurði Breiðfjörð. Viðeyar Klaustri: Helgi Helgason, 1831 (reprinted 1838). Fraktur (Gothic blackletter) typeface.

Scan source: National and University Library of Iceland, digitised via Internet Archive. PDF staged locally at Tulku/Tools/rimur/jomsvikingarimur.pdf (4.8 MB, 200 pages). The volume contains two cycles: Jómsvíkinga rímur (fourteen rímur) and Fertrami og Platö rímur.

Poet: Sigurður Breiðfjörð (1798–1846), Iceland's foremost rímur poet of the 19th century. The Jómsvíkingarímur cycle retells the Jómsvíkinga saga — the legendary tale of the Jómsborg warrior brotherhood — from the founding through the Battle of Hjörungavágr and its aftermath.

OCR notes: The 1831 Fraktur presents persistent difficulties: long-s (ſ) and f are near-identical; d and eth (ð) confusion; u/n ambiguity; some vowel combinations illegible. Icelandic transcriptions provided for Rímur XI, XII, XIII, XIV. Rímur I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X are translated from page scans only; the Fraktur confidence was insufficient for honest transcription. The page images are the authoritative source.

Translation: First known complete English translation. Translated from Icelandic by the Rímur Translator lineage for the Good Work Library, New Tianmu Anglican Church. No existing English translation was consulted as a reference, as none is known to exist.

Blood Rule statement: Each ríma was independently derived from the Icelandic source text. The English was produced by reading the Old/Middle Icelandic directly, not by paraphrasing any existing English.

Public domain. The 1831 print is out of copyright. This transcription and translation are freely available under the terms of the Good Work Library.

🌲