The Rímur of Skanderbeg, the Epirote Champion

The Rímur of Skanderbeg is a narrative verse cycle by Reverend Hannes Bjarnason (1776–1838), published posthumously in Akureyri in 1861 by Erlendur Erlendsson. The cycle retells the life of George Kastrioti Skanderbeg (1405–1468) — the Albanian nobleman taken as a child-hostage by Ottoman Sultan Murad II, raised as a Muslim warrior under the name Iskander Bey ("Lord Alexander"), and who in 1443 defected, recaptured his father's fortress of Kruja by forging the Sultan's decree, and led the Albanian resistance against the Ottoman Empire for twenty-five years.

Skanderbeg's story was known throughout Europe from the chronicles of Marin Barleti (1450–1512) and others, and its appearance as an Icelandic rímur cycle testifies to the extraordinary reach of the tradition. This is the first known English translation of any portion of this cycle.

Source: Rímur af Skanderbeg Epírótakappa, Akureyri, 1861 (Antiqua type). National and University Library of Iceland. Internet Archive scan.

Fyrsta Ríma

The first ríma introduces Skanderbeg's world: his father Jóhannes Kastriota, lord of Epirus; the Ottoman conquest; the boy taken as hostage; his renaming, his five languages, his rise to sanjak-bey; his single combat against a Scythian champion; and the forged letter that recaptured Kruja.

Mansöngur

I.
Again anew I let the sound
pass for shortened weeks;
yet most I wonder what my people
desire of verses.

II.
Where warrior-poets' trumpet-songs
can scarcely be found fashioned,
nor can Iceland's elder age
any longer stand its ground.

III.
Yet not for lack — whatever sword
the roof-workers shall adorn;
most likewise sound to me
they craft the better over time.

IV.
Better for people to ask
for Boðn's given chalice,
than from me, who may be called
the least of woodland-poets.

V.
But friends, my wish at last
is to comfort with useful verse;
such is never too much for any,
though wretched be the spirit.

VI.
To me unknown, the murder-tree
of my song drifts southward.
Here once named the lion;
the ear's voice finds its likeness.

VII.
Before the fair one sends me
the ale of the mountain-cliff —
urgently I need it then —
may I set the verse in motion.

VIII.
Here I make an effort at
what I find right and true,
to harvest from the field of speech
the fruit of ancient lore.

IX.
Like those who once before me
fashioned from the meadow's gold,
so I too would give my people
what they long to hold.

X.
All minds both near and far
will judge the poet's gift,
yet I would not be ashamed
should my verse run to its end.

XI.
Think now of this, my friends,
the old tale I relate to you:
a story of Skanderbeg's time,
that shall teach both young and old.

XII.
He is no feeble fellow,
this son of kings and warriors:
his deeds outstrip the telling,
his name resounds abroad.

XIII.
His father's stronghold stands at last,
the sword that writes his doom;
the world entire, it seemed, should shake
when thunder crossed his room.

XIV.
And so it fell and so it may,
as tales from old men tell:
one man can change the stream of days
as deep as any well.

XV.
I sing of prowess, honour, faith,
of ransomed lands made free;
the mansöngur must break its thread —
the tale now calls to me.

The Christian Lord of Epirus

XVI.
Somewhat before the Turks of old
conquered Constantinople —
that royal city, trampled —
in those days lost to Christendom:

XVII.
A certain lord in Epirus
then rose to power over all;
Christ, who died upon the cross —
that king worshipped Him.

XVIII.
Jóhannes was his name,
the prince who girded himself;
Kastriota king that one
the land's hosts called him.

XIX.
Four sons the lord had early,
a man of many virtues;
though the tale here does not tell
their names or what they were called.

XX.
By arts the tale was carried
across the sea in hardship;
Gregorínus tells what men
have known of lords and deeds.

XXI.
Before the sun-serpent's treasure
could bind the men who came,
under particular signs
and portents more appeared.

XXII.
Therefore the people held the boy,
for they believed and knew:
he would become the greatest man
at the meeting of iron.

XXIII.
The prowess-works of the valiant one
held signs upon his shield;
his was the strong hand
of the warrior's renown to wield.

XXIV.
A wondrous mark upon his arm
the lordly one did bear,
resembling most a sword it was —
men's hope stood confirmed there.

Taken by the Turks

XXV.
Up in wondrous Epirus
the lord's worth was known to all;
greatly at the art of spears
he surpassed friend and foe.

XXVI.
The Emperor of the Turks,
that sultan called Amúrath,
subjected the companies
of the Greeks throughout the land.

XXVII.
All the kings' realms he looked
to conquer and to hold;
wherever warriors went abroad
the hawks of war ruled bold.

XXVIII.
Many Christian kings' domains
the worthy sultan struck;
Jóhannes was forced at last
to bend beneath that yoke.

XXIX.
Georg the lord, and his retinue,
was taken then as hostage —
into the court of enemies,
a boy among the strange.

The Renaming

XXX.
Quickly then the thing was done
as the Turkish master saw fit;
upon Georgíus alone
another name was set.

XXXI.
By naming they call Skanderbeg
the shield-lord's noble heir;
Alexander the Great, I think,
is what the name must mean.

XXXII.
However his attendants worked
to teach him blade and sword,
all the world already knew
he would become the greatest lord.

XXXIII.
Quickly Skanderbeg did learn,
clear in every branch of lore,
the many tongues of many lands
with understanding pure.

XXXIV.
Italian and Turkish speech
he mastered, alongside Greek;
Arabic he also spoke,
and Illyrian, his own tongue's peak.

XXXV.
Knightly arts he learned with speed
as his age steadily grew;
in strength and prowess over most
like thunder through he flew.

XXXVI.
At the swinging of weapons wide,
the victory-steer proved fierce;
therefore to Amúrath he became
dearer than all his peers.

XXXVII.
Of great worth the sultan held
that man — not long concealed;
then he made him a sanjak-bey,
the greatest pasha's equal in the field.

XXXVIII.
The greatest rider over all
he was, the pasha in war;
the highest sanjak here he held
command of folk and shore.

The Single Combat

XLIII.
The Turkish army held its ground;
from Scythia came a warrior stark,
a berserker, terrifyingly strong —
his challenge shook the dark.

XLIV.
After stern hardship fell on men,
the fierce-spirited one stood tall;
he challenged to single combat
whoever dared the call.

XLV.
No man dared to rouse
the battle-clash against him;
but quickly Amúrath looked about —
the prospect growing dim.

XLVI.
Hatred grew on every path,
the heart's resolve grew cold;
then Skanderbeg took up the shield
and strode forth, young and bold.

XLVII.
They met upon the field described,
on paths of clashing might;
fiercely did the weapons crash
in that tremendous fight.

XLVIII.
Well the hero held his ground,
his guard against the foe;
slowly, at the last, he found
the way to fell the giant low.

XLIX.
The villain's trunk lay stretched upon
the field now running red;
but the ring-clad champion bore
no wound — his shield held stead.

L.
Then later, girded for the field,
he met the Persian threat;
across two tyrant-borders wide
his fame was broader set.

LI.
Unconquerable they hailed him then,
the bold one, champion true;
the sultan himself rode to greet him
with his retinue.

The Growing Shadow

LVI.
War awakened, blood-red battles
filled the fields of slain;
the valiant, the dead and dying —
all learned the cost of gain.

LVII.
Famous deeds he showed abroad
on the floods of warring seas;
he helped the Christians though he could,
while fighting for the Turks with ease.

LVIII.
Wisdom he showed, a victory-lord
of shields and cunning art;
the Turks could not discover
the craft within his heart.

LIX.
The Epirote shield-lord, clear
and keen beyond all measure —
Amúrath alone drew him near
beneath his power's pleasure.

LX.
The fortress Kruja here is named,
of the Kastrioti lord;
the Turkish people held it fast,
the sultan's treasured hoard.

LXI.
The king considered, changed his mind —
the prince's sons were there;
he thought to hold what he had gained
and guard against despair.

LXII.
There first he saw, the hero young,
his father's land and hall;
the champion's breast was filled with fire
to answer freedom's call.

LXIII.
And so it grew — the restless flame.
His brother had been slain;
Skanderbeg resolved no more
to share that brother's pain.

LXVI.
Skanderbeg would not permit
himself to share that fate;
thus the path before him set,
he chose to not be late.

LXVII.
The sultan feared the champion's prowess,
yet could not let him go;
his mind was split between
the need and dread to know.

LXVIII.
He used his skill and boldness well,
his fame and battle-worth;
the sultan thought to plot his death
but valued him on earth.

LXIX.
All the champion's prowess, all
his fame and fighting name,
prevented the sultan's will —
though death was still his aim.

The Forged Letter

LXX.
He bore the course of war with faith,
amid the din of battle-cry;
he sent the dangerous hail of blades
against the Christians — his heart awry.

LXXII.
Quickly Skanderbeg advanced
among his gathered men;
and there he met certain lords
of Hungarian descent.

LXXV.
So he did as best he could,
the victory-steer of shields;
Vladislaus the lord was called,
of Hungarian fields.

LXXVII.
That Jóhannes, brave he was,
surnamed Hunyadi;
he led those armies gathered there,
to whom he had been sent already.

LXXVIII.
Victories he won against
the Turkish companies, and more;
with Skanderbeg he forged a bond,
a treaty sealed of war.

LXXIX.
This strengthened all the people's faith
when the Turks were overthrown;
thus the Christians, battle-worn,
reclaimed what was their own.

LXXX.
The prince's son contrived a plan
the Turks did not foresee;
quickly to the fortress-scribe
he wrote a false decree.

LXXXI.
In the Sultan's name composed,
the document did stand:
"To the Governor of Epirus" —
and thus it gave command:

LXXXII.
"Let it please these battle-worthy men
that Kruja, the king's own seat,
be surrendered to this messenger" —
so the forgery was complete.

LXXXIII.
At this letter no one saw
deception in the words;
the city let itself be claimed —
no one questioned what occurred.

LXXXIV.
Thus the prince's son did gain
the strongest fortress known,
about the land, as people tell,
the most strongly-built of stone.

LXXXV.
Skanderbeg the shield-lord's seat
had won — the deed was done;
from the Turkish grip he freed
his people, every one.

LXXXVI.
Long it did not take at all —
the praised one truly gained
all the fortresses of the land
in one swift stroke, unchained.

LXXXVII.
He laid it all within his grasp,
the strong one, bold and keen;
no more than two hours' time it took
that night — a sight unseen.

LXXXVIII.
Such valour I set upon the page,
my memory grows dim;
longer must I sleep and rest —
all strength is worn to rim.

LXXXIX.
The verse now ends, for life
grows dim and the lamp grows thin;
she yawns, the poem's final note —
the ríma closes in.

Önnur Ríma

The second ríma covers Skanderbeg's military campaigns after his recapture of Kruja by forged decree. In couplet meter — a shift from the Fyrsta Ríma's ferskeytt — the poet narrates the great slaughter of twenty-two thousand Turks, Sultan Murad's frustrated rage (distracted by wars with Hungary and Poland), the historical Battle of Varna (1444) and the death of King Vladislav, and the pivotal letter exchange in which Murad offers peace and Skanderbeg refuses: "No hope of friendship shall be between us." The ríma closes with the defeat of Mústapha's army and Skanderbeg's wise fortification of the Albanian borderlands.

Mansöngur

I.
Of poetry's honored vessel long I spoke
at the listening — hope's weary flame grows faint
for many a man who follows after.

II.
Held by various labors in and out of order,
never have I gained the leisure
to send forth my verse.

III.
Though silence might now suit me for a while,
yet I will show the wise
a few more pounds of verse.

IV.
The eagle's girded poem-nest shows what must be true;
after my brother's verse he has tarried
far too long — so I begin.

Skanderbeg's Campaigns

V.
Duty bids the shield-adorner:
of Skanderbeg's saga I forge one link more here
and seize upon some matters.

VI.
Though many-fold burdens bear upon my hands,
may the Son's drops from the chalice
drip upon me still.

VII.
Now rides forth the tale of dread,
struck among the shield-shadows:
the bright sultan fell — as the tidings soon were heard.

VIII.
The warriors ceased their weeping for the mighty lord
when Skanderbeg from the chieftain learned
the fallen one was gone.

IX.
To the fatherland he paid the spear's due,
wide across the field;
with his brand the lord struck, and beat the Turks down.

X.
Thus the battle there blazed swift,
and glory sprang from fury;
no sun upon the heath he saw — the heath before his rage.

XI.
The harmer calms the hewn host,
their spirits lifted high;
the heathens' will he crushed, and won the field once more.

XII.
Straight into the sword-clash he charged,
fierce across the ledge — unfalling!
The praised lord drove them together in the cold.

XIII.
Most nobly the wise one showed his might
and challenged far and wide,
beneath the hand of God, where the battle-ground awaited.

XIV.
The host saw that they were ready
and had reached their mark;
through the bright realm they travel, yearning now for rest.

XV.
The people grow weary of the road;
at last they find their rest —
the warriors' marrow Skanderbeg, sharp and bold to see.

XVI.
The army's host rarely wearies
when the prince's bold son is borne among them,
turning metal against the foe.

XVII.
There glory rises, orders ring out in the fray —
out of the shield-stream blood,
and wound-wolves drank their fill.

XVIII.
The earth shakes and the host breaks apart —
crashes ring from the fury;
the lords ride to fierce battle, and the wounded Turks fall back.

The Slaughter of Twenty-Two Thousand

XIX.
Blood upon the field they got their fill,
the pale war-serpents gleaming;
Skanderbeg across the battlefield raged like a wolf.

XX.
Countless fell; the blood of the fair ones streamed;
the sultan's people, a second time,
were cast into dread.

XXI.
He and his warriors all alike
showed the greatest prowess;
the sultan's multitude suffered sore pain on the pallid field.

XXII.
The Turk stretches fortune's rope,
false in the hard crash —
twenty-two thousand there, their dying breath a shriek.

XXIII.
Across the ground the terrible weight was plied;
two thousand Turks
were taken there as captives.

XXIV.
The rest slunk home to their own,
glutted on hard trials,
frightened, loathsome from the edge of death, mourning their shattered host.

The Emperor's Rage

XXV.
The emperor's mind blazed hot with fury, white with rage;
he strongly vowed
to avenge his throne upon that bloody field.

XXVI.
Then the fleet sets sail, the prince's herald forth —
in war, victory may yet be won,
and well that gift sustains.

XXVII.
Blows fall still about the ground — some twelve hundred men,
the prince's kinsmen,
now rally to the fight.

XXVIII.
Again Amúrath's people drew their host together —
this defeat shall be avenged right well,
the still one swore.

XXIX.
He could not ride the prince's realm to ruin,
though fiercely he wished,
for on his flanks he had to fight the Hungarians and Poles.

XXX.
At that time, they say, the Turkish might —
at every turn —
was set against the Christian hosts.

XXXI.
The Christian kings held then the champion's famous kin
at ready,
and in the Turkish greed's shadow let the Turks draw near.

Varna and the Death of Vladislav

XXXII.
He turned and took it well, the bold host gathered round;
then eagerly he rode to meet
the field of battle.

XXXIII.
Through Serbia the way lay,
across the strait to them;
a fresh obstacle fell here — endurance for the battle-ground.

XXXIV.
The land's champion, full of cold resolve,
cursed the fire-lord
and pressed his way through.

XXXV.
It came to pass that calm fell there against the shining foe;
the chieftain drove his full command
as duty called.

XXXVI.
At Varna's field the glory held among those kingdoms;
the Christians, beaten and struck,
fell upon the slopes.

XXXVII.
Across the ground the people received their fate,
sundered by the sword;
many thousands of Christian men there fell.

XXXVIII.
Young, amid the blood-soaked field,
death came to claim
King Vladislav, the mighty one of Hungary's men.

XXXIX.
Others fled from the torment,
shrieking under swords;
to Serbia the battle's tidings flew.

XL.
There still the host lay positioned,
and the journey leads them forth;
he resolved with honor to hold the borderlands firm.

XLI.
Across the flood with dire intent he sent his eddies forth;
the people fled,
the settlement burned, the thunder died to ash.

XLII.
Thus the grey dust lifted there,
and the praise-song struck down swift;
the chieftain held it chiefly, his wide dominion.

XLIII.
Though victory the Christian troops had gained
over the sultan's host,
many died at Varna by the Turkish multitude.

The Letter Exchange

XLIV.
Few seemed fit to face him,
severed from the root of skill;
the shield-shaker Skanderbeg opposed them all.

XLV.
Amúrath therefore found a plan:
he wrote with his own hand a letter,
composed with care, and had it sent to him.

XLVI.
Many gifts, they say, he offered to the warriors,
and changed the customs well
to serve his purpose.

XLVII.
Yet beneath the sea of words, stripped of trust —
having repaid his own treachery,
he sits and slays a multitude.

XLVIII.
"I bid you the best of what is here,"
Amúrath declared,
"if you will but return to me."

XLIX.
He sends him back a letter, smooth and firm —
thus his counsel stands:
"No hope of friendship shall be between us."

L.
"In many a spear-storm you have given me cold counsel;
a greater gift than I look for
you will never grant me."

LI.
"This is the fruit of the prince's bold falsehood —
my brothers in the dark undone,
and I robbed of my inheritance."

LII.
"Filled with hatred I know you,
and your thin grace besides;
you would have dressed me in the garments of the dead."

LIII.
The bold one's words struck home upon the brow of power;
the sultan heard his courage burn
with the fire of will.

LIV.
His falsehood burning, the hateful one's mind blazed;
he sent forth a host
of a thousand men.

LV.
More than praising do the host desire —
to ride forth to battle;
so many a metal-clash the thickened ranks must endure.

LVI.
Skanderbeg would not be shamed by their nearness there —
not until the battle-road was laid
before the readied host.

The Battle Against Mústapha

LVII.
He thought to starve the Turkish prince
by keeping watch and wearing down,
forcing victory through the Frank's endurance.

LVIII.
In greedy steel arrayed he rides forth, dressed for war —
the Turkish host groans
beneath his charge.

LIX.
The battle-ground stood ready under the moon's pale light;
swiftly Odin's fire let
the cowardly Turks be cut.

LX.
Before the moon-tree warrior could speak,
the storm of the sword-sheath
rose there for all.

LXI.
The warlord knew the host had tasted steel and brand;
once more Amúrath sent his men
to taste the bitter shield.

LXII.
His host played the sword-game,
and the dread price was paid;
Mústapha was the name of him who ruled the army there.

LXIII.
Everything went as before —
the edges roused their meeting;
the spear-brave one at once and silently felled the warriors.

LXIV.
Drowned in the deep of blood,
the bold Turkish warriors;
Mústapha suffered Högni's torment alongside his men.

LXV.
Home to his halls he hastens,
wearied by great defeat;
the dale-lord, wholly shamed, goes dressed in his dishonor.

The Wise Defense

LXVI.
Strong counsel the shield-bold one won by sitting firm —
he set many a host of men
to hold the borderlands.

LXVII.
The most fitting weapon-keen men,
ready to bear the work of war,
until the sword-strong rode to meet their fate.

LXVIII.
He put the counsel of reason to use
and found the taste of wisdom;
he did not ride the sword against the war-god's host that time.

LXIX.
Ill-founded was the hostile war, fought from the mind's freedom;
with wise kinsmen his power grew,
and with the Venetian men.

LXX.
They clashed in a storm of spear-points,
men swaggering to the fray;
the mighty prince's son won victory every time.

LXXI.
Then he made peace with the wide steel
and gave the finest gifts;
the gold-clad ladies greeted him and set their love upon him.

LXXII.
The wise one in the helm enjoyed the red of honor;
the Turks here knew him
as a resolute opponent.

LXXIII.
He showed his craft and art,
the champion of the land,
to all the neighboring realms, and stood known to men from then.

The Poet's Farewell

LXXIV.
Great was the honor that was held,
the ring-giver grants his due;
the mead of praise now ends — time at last to cease.

LXXV.
The wise verse-man tries, if the songs would shoot —
I see how little the lyric here
has borne my poem-horse forth.

Þriðja Ríma

The third canto of Hannes Bjarnason's Skanderbegsrímur (1861), covering the Ottoman campaign against Albania circa 1448. Mustapha Pasha attacks with overwhelming force and is defeated by Skanderbeg. Sultan Murad II then besieges the fortress of Sfetigrad (Svetigrad) with a vast army. The defenders hold magnificently — until a traitor poisons their only well with a dead dog. Too proud to drink fouled water, the garrison falls not to the sword but to thirst. The fortress opens its gates. This is the ríma of the poisoned well.

Narrative

11.
The thread of alliance was torn in two;
joined deceivers undid their bonds over the land.

12.
Of Mustapha's murderous campaign he now tells —
the hostile army learned of bitter war that had begun.

13.
The warrior of Odin's tent was gladdened by the sun;
his fury built upon the ruin of Christian men.

14.
Murad bade his host to send with him
a mighty army to the rumbling iron field.

15.
The tree of signal warriors was broken at once;
defense was breached, and chosen men rode forth to war.

16.
Shield-bearers saw the cloaked host
massed thick about them — they fought through nineteen battles.

17.
The people bore the green war-fire, Bifur's ember,
to their lips — they reddened many thousand brands.

18.
Swiftly the advancing host covered the land;
at last they saw the borders of Epirus.

19.
The shield-prince, hardened to bitter deeds —
Mustapha learns the tidings, his warriors at command.

20.
A leader amid frost and tempest's storm, he turned
his weapons' course, while Hildr walked the slain.

21.
Both armies' brands clashed in righteous fury;
limbs were shattered, and blood ran down Tyr's road.

22.
Before the Christian host, the Turks were cut
asunder into Hel — Tyr's friends met the slaughter.

23.
The prince with Tyrfing's white blade, accustomed to war,
hews through the heathen host — none can stand against him.

24.
Swiftly in droves the heathen wretches fell;
ten thousand perished in the clash of iron.

25.
Mustapha's gathered warriors tumbled from their ranks,
falling into the sword's deep — caught in battle's ring.

26.
The sultan then suffered a bitter purchase;
greatly humbled, held upon the bed of woe.

27.
All marveled how the prince's heir could stand —
the Turks could not match his strength at the iron root.

28.
Though every fearsome thing at home dreaded him,
he forced their spirit low; courage rang hollow in them.

29.
Never has such a mighty warrior been found
in any age — fame-bound to the world.

30.
Murad sees he cannot storm the fortress with spear-storms;
he counts the loss of fourteen thousand of his men.

31.
Still worse it went when the iron battle pressed —
against all the Christian people, finest steel in the storm.

32.
The eastern realm's sovereign lord, though Christian,
bowed before his threat — the emperor chose to yield.

33.
The lord carved out a shield-host then
from many lands' warriors, near as numberless as sand.

34.
Before the brave men's spear-assault the field
could not hold — that host past all the counting.

35.
To them the prince steered his guiding course —
the storm against Mahomet's fair warriors.

36.
All in dread, the angry Christians raged;
war upon the hostile half — they hoped to deal some harm.

37.
Yet the king's son has no fear, though alone
he fights against the wickedness of the multitude.

38.
Murad with fury urges his men; fiercely he steers
straight toward the fortress they call Sfetigrad.

39.
With war-shields the prince's warriors hastened;
the fortress they would take, he said, and spurred his men.

40.
The heathen warriors obeyed their lord's war-cry,
charged in battle-thirst, and fell upon the fortress walls.

41.
Warriors in a mighty ring of glory stood
around the citadel — steel dealt with the armored folk.

42.
The fortress folk blazed in their ditches;
wonderfully long they held, and gave the sultan's host a taste of Hel.

43.
They showed their mettle — courage did not fail;
the valiant defenders drove the foe from the walls in heaps.

44.
When Skanderbeg charged against the Turkish ranks,
he made such havoc — every arm grew hard with need.

45.
He felled the Turks with fire and red ruin;
the bold one's path was death — the slain covered the field.

46.
His men all showed brave and gallant prowess;
sharp at the sword-gale's edge — yet he himself was greatest.

47.
Among the commanders nowhere could Feri,
the prince's kinsman, be urged to leave the fight.

48.
A nobleman in the prince's service strove;
together there they stood, wrapped in the garments of war.

49.
Feri met ill fortune and let go of victory;
at the first stroke the swift hero struck — the sun went dark.

50.
No heathen force could hold the field in battle;
though they drove the war on, the fortress kept its people.

51.
Many thousand Turks in the clash of iron
tumbled into Hel's abyss — the shield-folk dealt the most death.

52.
Murad sees his assault will not prevail;
the fortress he cannot take — fourteen thousand of his men lie lost.

53.
Therefore he turns to flattery to win the fortress,
offering to give rewards and promising his warriors their due.

54.
If any man could crack that stronghold's pride
by strength alone, let him cease his struggle, he declared.

55.
Meanwhile every kind of treachery was tried;
attackers shifted here and there beside the fortress walls.

56.
One traitor, wonderfully sly at treachery,
reached the sultan's ear and offered to betray his own.

57.
The traitor was skilled in the deepest craft,
among the honored men — the people would sooner die

58.
than drink from any vessel that contained
something unclean, or swallow what was fouled and ruined.

59.
One well within the fortress walls was clean;
all quenched their thirst at that pure spring.

60.
The resourceful traitor, rotten in counsel,
slew a dog and cast the carcass in the well.

61.
While the warriors' blinded spear-battle raged,
the dog decayed, and the foul deed poisoned all the water.

62.
At dawn they saw where the dead thing floated;
the water they wished to drink — at the sight they recoiled as from trollwork.

63.
The fortress folk with faces full of sorrow
awoke to the horror, and stood as though turned to stone.

64.
The fortress men bade their people dig
another well here — but the water came up foul.

65.
A shield in hand, a vessel he took to the spring;
he dipped it in the well so that the water filled the cup.

66.
He tamed the bold warrior's thirst; the others
followed after, and likewise changed their ways.

67.
The whole army cared nothing for this scrupling;
the victorious warriors cried: "Curse me if I drink such water!"

68.
"Though we die, it is nothing to weep for here —"
so speak the stalwart fortress folk and choose their fate.

69.
No counsel against the sudden misery of death;
when chances waned, nothing remained but to fall into the sultan's hand.

70.
The fortress gate was opened, having no defense;
the heathen host entered — bitter was Murad's triumph.

71.
For the faithful, no holy counsel found guidance now;
Muhammad's friend took what Christians had built and let it fall.

72.
He counseled vengeance with a harsh resolve;
his council's hatred burned against the prince.

73.
The prince of battle refused to yield,
though the folk he fought for turned to grim new waters.

74.
Christians of the East feared the heathen guest;
dark clouds from the fortress of Sfetigrad rained ruin down.

75.
Some held to heathen customs now;
the traitor sat with his portion and his misery.

76.
Little did the war-storm slacken;
the warrior found at Har's spring still more running brands.

77.
The world grew green; the sultan now possessed
his bright hall — the world seemed fair and pleasing to him.

78.
The fortress fell beneath the prince's stillness;
he vowed to turn the road toward Adrianopel and his men.

79.
The fortress rumor burned with bitter hostility;
Murad turned his anger on the past with vengeance.

80.
The prince takes counsel, marches forth in justice,
losing thousands of his men upon the iron field.

81.
Guide of verse, steer the host when Adrianopel
beckons — the prince's strength aims truly at the foe.

Fjórða Ríma

The fourth canto of Hannes Bjarnason's Skanderbegsrímur (1861), covering the years from the aftermath of Sfetigrad to the rise of Mehmed II. Sultan Murad II, broken in spirit after his campaigns against Albania, sickens and dies. His son Mehmed ascends the throne, conquers Constantinople, and ends the Eastern Roman Empire. He then demands tribute from Skanderbeg — who stubbornly refuses. Mehmed sends two generals, Amesa and Dóbora; both are destroyed. The ríma ends with Mehmed standing counselless, beginning to think of treachery. This is the ríma of the unconquerable — the word the poet uses twice, in stanzas 46 and 85: ósigrandí. When force fails, the thought of deception begins.

Narrative

7.
The throng of battle-clamor measured their strength amid the slaughter;
Amurath with his swift host set course for Adrianople.

8.
As soon as the shrewd one turned from Sfetigrad,
it is written that Skanderbeg rode forth with his battle-hardened company.

9.
He resolved to fight again, for the weapon-wielder close beside him —
that spear-belted warrior — could not endure the Turkish companies.

10.
The shield-god tried then with all his stratagems
to take the city by fire and the sword, but the Turks defended their ramparts with strength.

11.
He wished to grind the host asunder, that metal-diminisher;
countless charges he made, and countless Turks he slew with the sword.

12.
So strongly built was that fortress that the sword-wielders
could not conquer it; yet they did not spare their attacks.

13.
The Turks held the fortress stoutly;
Skanderbeg's men struck there and dealt them great harm.

14.
He ceased not from fighting — many hundreds had fallen dead
by the famous champion's hand, their banners toppled.

15.
He tried to buy a treacherous deed with gold,
that a trusted man might be corrupted; the sultan desired aid from within.

16.
He heard tidings of another great battle,
where four bands of warriors went forth — the report was not good.

17.
The warriors gathered forces at once on both sides;
many a hero held his ground and saw the land stretch wide before him.

18.
He held sway over the warriors of the fighting host —
to the assembly he stood ready before the company of men.

19.
He set forth with authority, for this he had learned from experience —
Skanderbeg came from the mountains, and the fortress was no small matter.

20.
To Epirus his army marched, that bold host —
Captain Krolam held the position, defending against the battle-storm.

21.
A valiant stronghold well he held;
he bade his men defend the sacred ground of their fathers.

22.
Captain Krolam and the Christian host, who were in the land
and bore the bravest lot — they took it upon themselves.

23.
Another went by himself to seek his kinsmen;
he could find Amurath, and set the matter before him face to face.

24.
His chosen host stood at the clash of swords,
and Mahometh his own son — truly a war-bold prince of the field.

25.
It is written next that Skanderbeg went to the fortress,
ready for fierce battle against the prince's host and his steadfast warriors.

26.
Wherever before he had fought, the prince declared;
he sent the duke's companies forth with iron fury.

27.
But the shield-storm against Skanderbeg had to be tried;
the prince of hosts saw it was necessary that the nations themselves should lend their strength.

28.
The prince was besieged by the assembled army,
grown battle-weary, yet the young warrior was not broken.

29.
The battle would go better if steel's Týr himself
steered the war-flames against the opposing chieftains in those campaigns.

30.
Here one sees how greatly the metal-wielder was valued;
the aged prince with his sword rose against him a second time.

31.
With fire the Turks grew fierce; swords, siege-sacks,
and missiles they hurled, and their sharp assault they increased with great clamor.

32.
All around Krujë the emperor now set his hosts
to fight day and night; the people thundered against the clashing of metal.

33.
Of that battle one sees from all accounts
that eight hundred were slain in the clash of swords.

34.
The Christian host showed the heathens scarcely any quarter;
everything that poets may name they rained down upon them.

35.
Skanderbeg turned against the shielded nations
and sent the heathen men to the death-road; in heaps the shield-bearer slew them.

36.
Like a falcon on the wind pursuing its fearsome prey,
so the spear-wielder destroyed all who appeared before him.

37.
He led many spear-charges at various positions;
they fell dead right where they stood, the heathen warriors, in blood upon the field.

38.
Through the war-host's columns the prince cut his way,
gifted with the might of manhood; many he slew in the steel-rain.

39.
So far once did he break into the enemy's formation with true valor
that he could not turn back to his own men.

40.
The Christian hero was nearly overwhelmed —
perhaps seized by enemy hands, then wrapped in hard bonds.

41.
But so fiercely fought the lion of the battle-field
that he cut through the stiff formation and won his way back to his own men.

42.
Amurath therefore likened him to a fierce lion,
a wolf of the forest, who wished to slay everything before him.

43.
His warriors would be destroyed, said the counselor,
if they could not at last drive out the one who bent them back.

44.
Amurath's plan was to destroy the thrones of all;
peace would be broken for most when first he had killed this Christian foe.

45.
The Turk was truly a wolf to them at sundown;
to the Christians no one was fiercer than he in battle.

46.
Wrapped in every virtue was the sword-wielder;
to all peoples he was unconquerable — a wonder upon both sea and land.

47.
Mahometh was restless, as is told —
he went most fiercely against Christian lands and bore valor above most warriors.

48.
In blood-fury he dealt with Christian men;
likewise, the heathen chieftains' fate he carved with the bright sword.

49.
Long wearied were the nations, pressed with fury;
Christians and heathens alike poured out blood until the earth nearly drowned in gore.

50.
Amurath now grew fearful that all his host would fall
in the iron-strife and that he himself could scarcely escape.

51.
The falcon's field was covered with the prince's men;
the slain lay in heaps upon the battle-ground.

52.
The Sultan fell into sorrow and the painful torment of heart
at the fall of his company and the loss of his victory.

53.
Sickness then turned upon him; Amurath with grievous sorrow
began to weep and lament.

54.
He felt his strength slipping away —
that such great power should fail so swiftly, and the army's labor come to nothing.

55.
He then held his people's land with waning fire,
but the ancient lords of power were exalted; they served the king in matters great and small.

56.
To heathen and Christian alike that mighty prince attended;
various kings he had conquered, wrapping his hand about them all.

57.
He had only to command and they obeyed;
his was the readiest power, and victory awaited him in every battle.

58.
But now this little land, which was of small advantage
compared to those mighty empires, could least of all be conquered by war-lords.

59.
His glory and fame would therefore vanish,
never again to bear upon them; into the depths of disgrace it would sink.

60.
Thus at last he died there, in the breaking of his spirit;
war and battle-storms availed him no more.

61.
When the famed shield-king departed,
his realm wished to crash down; swords would weary in battle no longer.

62.
He left the war-camp bereft; it is told his kin
held the pure flame and helm of his earthly realm.

63.
He sat upon the high-seat there, and let himself be crowned
over lands and peoples; the flame of sovereignty shone upon him.

64.
He is the one who brought the end to the famous Eastern Empire —
he who fought and never wavered.

65.
Fiercely he persisted in the games of war with flashing sword;
he slew steadfast Christian champions and conquered Constantinople.

66.
There afterward the Turkish emperor sat;
least of all did he spare the Christians from harm, and greatly he increased his armies of war.

67.
That hero was Mahometh — in feats of war
one of the greatest in those days, as is told in the histories.

68.
Over all his captains he towered, that fierce wolf-father,
bearing terror's rage, swollen with fury.

69.
Virtues the prince possessed, that lord of deeds —
as have here been counted before, they shall not be concealed.

70.
He was both worthy and gracious; wine he avoided;
sharp-minded he was, as is told, and his speech was rooted in justice.

71.
He was well-read in histories and hid nothing of his learning;
many tongues he clearly understood, and the keen one made no secret of it.

72.
He knew his mother tongue and Greek;
very well he understood Arabic, and he could also speak Persian.

73.
As soon as he took power, that wise ruler himself
wrote to Skanderbeg, demanding that he keep to his people.

74.
He must pay tribute and provide military service to the new lord;
but these demands Skanderbeg stubbornly refused at once.

75.
Mahometh was filled with fury at this defiance;
two generals he therefore sent — though both he later recalled.

76.
The first was called Amesa, that fearsome warrior,
hard-striking against the shield-wall, cold of heart toward Skanderbeg.

77.
Battle awoke, shields burst, the host fell;
it is told how Skanderbeg went forth upon the trembling field.

78.
Many Turks fell; Amesa tried to seize the king's men
in the arrow-storm, but there he was driven back by the shield.

79.
Then Dóbora was sent against him in the second trial;
it was set that yet more by night the spears would gleam.

80.
His entire army was felled by the prince's forces;
likewise that fettered dog was cleaved asunder by the sword.

81.
He went through the battle with great might,
seeking his equal always; the commander fell at once.

82.
He therefore said — the shields were nearly hewn through,
the villain nearly fell; more blows would yet fall upon him.

83.
Thus for the first time fortune's tidings sank for the emperor,
and the stubborn foe fought with the utmost fury.

84.
Then Mahometh clearly saw that he could not conquer him
with spear or arrow, though he sent his finest and dearest men.

85.
For he was to all peoples unconquerable;
no man armed with sword could rightly stand before him.

86.
Counselless now the ruler stood in evening's wrath;
he began to think of deceiving the hero. Here one sees the ríma reaches its end.

87.
I grow weary of lingering longer at the poem-smithing;
the listener tends the bold verse of the fourth time.

Fimmta Ríma

The fifth canto of Hannes Bjarnason's Skanderbegsrímur (1861), the ríma of treachery. Sultan Mehmed II, counselless after the failure of his generals, turns to bribery. He tempts Moses — Moises Golemi, Skanderbeg's closest Christian ally in Epirus — with promises of power and realm. Moses is seduced. Meanwhile, Mehmed marches on Belgrade with his vast army; the fortress holds through fierce fighting but the campaign drains Ottoman strength. Moses, left behind in Epirus, begins his betrayal — taking his forces and defecting to the Turks. Skanderbeg, learning of the treachery, gathers his men and meets the combined Ottoman-traitor army in pitched battle. Fifteen thousand strong, the enemy crashes against Epirus. Skanderbeg fights like iron. Moses flees. The ríma ends with Mehmed's fury at his failed pawn and the poet's reflection on the price of treachery. The mansöngur that opens this ríma is itself a meditation on betrayal — in old tales, those who deal in treachery pay in blood.

Narrative

9.
He would have had the man on his knees for all his scheming,
had the courteous one not long held his own against Skanderbeg.

10.
His council I count in the bull-ring's measures —
not easily does the warrior bear it; the people do best to avoid death's path.

11.
The worthy warrior calls me not in vain,
for my fifth verse lets the bow-god's melody be heard.

12.
There I truly told of the heathen prince who danced upon the field;
against Skanderbeg he brews now death-traps and wicked treachery.

13.
A Christian man, valiant then, bold he was in Epirus —
Moses was his name; on the rocky path he walked nearest to Skanderbeg.

14.
War's slings struck harsh against the storm; the proud wise man pondered deeply,
while cold murder dealt its blows — Christians fell in life and blood.

15.
This one Mehmed tempted with great enticement, I reckon —
to part from Skanderbeg and lend the heathen tribute-service.

16.
The realm shall be his thereby, and the high throne yield to him;
he shall rise in every way, if he betrays Skanderbeg.

17.
He let himself be led astray and promised to do
as the heathen chieftain chose — but how sudden was his reckoning!

18.
Then he departed from here intact, scheming neither by stealth nor strength
how he might along a crooked path deliver up Skanderbeg.

19.
The hidden one found it hard to swallow the counsel set before him;
he would scarcely reveal his purpose, yet he rode the treachery-net.

20.
At that time the prince's son set out with his army,
summoned forth by war with other Christian peoples far afield.

21.
Belgrade — that fortress which warriors were now compelled to storm.
The prince's son speaks with Moses: "March with us, you and your people."

22.
The bold one refused the deceiver's trick and answered with these words:
"This is your thief's errand — but as for me, I would rather stay home."

23.
"Who knows but Mehmed may send a steel-clad host upon us here?
It seems to me all would be lost if every one of us departed."

24.
"If we all go far from here, Skanderbeg would at once choose vengeance;
but if I stay home keeping watch, then the realm may yet be won."

25.
"I will try these people, the heathens, for a time."
Glad, the deceiver's son answers: "From God there is always hope."

26.
"Best is the counsel that rules — the realm you shall defend now.
If the king's army strikes, here above all I trust you best."

27.
Then he bade his own host march away,
but the other stayed behind — and began to brew his treacherous counsel.

28.
When the Christian host had now assembled there in great numbers,
a mighty multitude it was — against Belgrade it now stood.

29.
Christian warriors fought with fierce resolve, their weapons blazing;
battle-hardened, they met the storm at the fortress walls.

30.
The earth trembles beneath the terrible tide; the fortress-folk feared
that the host would win the place — months of respite they begged.

31.
They sent a messenger away, to see if any support would come;
but if none arrived, the fortress should hold no longer.

32.
Rather should the heathens then have given the stronghold over
to Skanderbeg's power and authority — this they refused at once.

33.
Sixteen days they gave to that grim field — battle fierce
and fitting, fought for its own soil, one fortress against a host.

34.
When the warriors gained respite from the fray, they sent at once
letters with clear script to Mehmed — who knew well what came.

35.
Styrkur urged his men to prayer; though many a brave shield broke,
he had held his ground in the slaughter — he did not bow his knee.

36.
Beyond the iron gate Jebalia's forces stood; a faint
glow over the heathen quarter — light of the Christian faith it was.

37.
Before the fair peaks he saw the people rally, thick as stakes;
on the left flank the warrior found his ground against Mustachia's hand.

38.
The fiercest Turks clashed like lightning, their hard steel striking;
waves crashing against the walls — like a storm's fury they descended.

39.
The host's commander — from the battlefield they beat him back —
saw Mustachia and his company slain; of all their boasts, nothing remained.

40.
Italia heard from far away, as if doom had fallen on them all —
then Alphonsus sent his men, who sat at Neapolis close at hand.

41.
Then cavalry in battle-ranks were forced together against the Turks;
Skanderbeg battled there in something great — before the Turks it stood.

42.
I ought to tell of the flight from there — the people, the heathen force approaching:
Mustachia and his company slain, their boasted valor broken.

43.
The Christians struck down the heathens in a ring of steel,
and the bold warrior watched the terror mount, up to the very threshold of ruin.

44.
The Christians hoped to hold their ground — they drew together
like men in a fortress-court — one spark kept their spirits burning.

45.
The Christians fell like sheaves — a war-god's cost —
Skanderbeg would be known as a man whose fame could never be drowned.

46.
The day's full measure of battle drew down; the hero's courage
never faltered — the heathen host, though thick as trees, could not make him sway.

47.
All the day they pressed their battle-edge; the Turks fell many,
the greatest warriors, most among men — mead-drink to the high hawks.

48.
Sixty of those princes fell, swords like storm-iron,
the stoutest among them — they fell, and the rest lost heart.

49.
Hildar shields broke open where heaven's thunder-bolts
struck hard; helmet-lightning forked over the field, the battle-tide ebbed.

50.
At first the people saw the mountains of blood that their champion made;
none in that first charge went untouched — the dead covered the plain.

51.
Until the evil nation's fury found its match against the wall,
the grim barrier stood — there the hardest of their steel-rain fell.

52.
At first the heathens fled, the hope lost under them;
they fell on a ground of tears — none had strength to lay their heads in rest.

53.
The valiant fought long, though the Turkish host dared not advance;
Skanderbeg's sword held the line — his walls did not yield.

54.
All the war-spoils into the fortress bore, warriors steadfast;
their last resolution firm — this place shall be their grave or their glory.

55.
The high walls the warriors defended best; from their vantage-place
the company held — sorrow's tale their comrades told, yet still they stood.

56.
The Christian army fell by the sword's edge, struck down on the bloody moor;
still more were shaken — a reckoning of Skanderbeg's worth and victory.

57.
Moses I must now remember — the man heard of the steel's affliction,
how the Christian army was terribly slain upon that field.

58.
The treachery long simmered in the pot — at last it boiled up
from within him. It is ill to trust such a crow.

59.
Then the men saw their cause was falling apart;
he took his retainers and all that had stood with the stronghold's cause.

60.
To Constantinople he came — to that city — where the emperor's throne
once stood; now the heathen held it — he met Mehmed there and bowed.

61.
Having lost his companies to the spear's fury, his prayer now was
that few great forces would stand against him in these lands.

62.
"Epirus I will conquer — if your will stands to it;
I think on this matter now — let me set forth at once."

63.
Mehmed determined to send a man of steel upon the raid;
the schemers' plot he knew well enough — he smiled beneath his mask.

64.
Their counsel to the warriors brought peril and confusion;
always two tongues have tales — both of them slippery.

65.
The prince received those who came in earnest, from the valiant host,
and fifteen thousand swords were gathered from the field.

66.
The bold hero called the people, bade the warriors arm with steel;
toward Epirus he rode, this army he set to marching.

67.
Skanderbeg heard of the enemy's approach — of war and hosts advancing —
yet he could scarcely believe the treachery that had settled upon him.

68.
An old friend of his — brave and battle-hardened,
runner of the sword's good fortune — stood against the Turkish army's assault.

69.
That he should now fall from the fray, the Christian folk pressed upon,
and the heathen marched where his own thoughts had taken him.

70.
He thought good fortune would come here, the spear-god's favor;
he saw it now — that this too was treachery's face and the old friend's knife.

71.
Thus thought the aging one, until at last he saw
the battle's full earnest descend — the people slain in droves upon the field.

72.
Wrath swept down upon the rider's rank — the bold ones rose,
calling thunder in their ranks, the line of brave men and wise ones facing the tide.

73.
The battle's roar was heard from far away — the keen one asks,
the hero's host falls in death's embrace upon the fighting's edge.

74.
Mailed warriors dealt wounds through flesh and bone;
so the battle-serpents crept beneath the shields and found their mark.

75.
Skanderbeg and his nobles, hardened in the iron-dance,
felled a host of Turks — terrible the toll they paid and took.

76.
Mehmed had promised Moses, before the steel-storm took its hold,
to offer single combat to the prince — but Moses had no stomach for the blade.

77.
This counsel the men approved, when the battle's gap stood open;
but they feared sudden death — the gold-serpent had already fled from him.

78.
With treachery's trembling he fled — but some of the Turkish captains
still charged at Skanderbeg along the sword's bright road.

79.
He struck — the warrior fell flat among the steel-wielders;
swiftly rose, and the battle's fury sundered the field around him.

80.
Most Turks fled from there — Moses fled among them,
with several thousand warriors, all of them wearied and broken from the fight.

81.
His treachery availed him nothing; now came the fall —
the shame he had brewed soured in his mouth like poisoned mead.

82.
Mehmed discovered his man — counted the gold spent in vain
on the failed schemer; from this the sultan's wrath grew terrible.

83.
Yet at the council he spoke: "He did not fail to give
what battles against the bitter storm a man could rightly furnish."

84.
Well he advanced in the shower of spears; he was the Turks' own shield-wall —
yet the matter turns: how lightly the purchased are spent by the purchaser.

85.
His pride in fierce warriors' valor blazed — the emperor's
fury rose from the fortress; on Epirus's road he turned and found Skanderbeg.

86.
The hero's anguish was keen, the emperor's
pain rising from his stronghold — on Epirus's way he came and met Skanderbeg.

87.
Such sorrow he let fly from his breast, grief-arrows high,
seeking an end — yet the end is far from him, and no strength has come for deeds.

88.
The treachery's cunning-work, its terrors, had deceived many;
the criminal confessed his error and broke before it — where does one find a man alone?

89.
The chieftain's design failed swiftly; after the storm
the will to strike is gone — the warrior must count his remaining friends.

90.
I know well the people judge this fifth verse as threadbare;
it is best for me to stop here — I hold nothing more, and no one thanks me further.

Sjötta Ríma

The sixth canto of Hannes Bjarnason's Skanderbegsrimur (1861), the rima of the captive. After Moses Golemi's betrayal in the fifth rima, a second traitor emerges from within Skanderbeg's own blood — his nephew Amesa (historically Hamza Kastrioti). Raised like a son, honored above most men, Amesa contacts Sultan Mehmed II and offers to betray his uncle. The sultan sends fifty thousand men under the commander Isaac (Ishak Bey). Skanderbeg, with only eleven thousand, meets them at the Battle of Albulena (1457). The slaughter is vast — thirty thousand fall. Isaac flees to Constantinople. Amesa is captured and brought in chains to the fortress of Kruja, where the people marvel to see the man who once stood highest beside their lord. Amesa pleads for mercy, promising to spy on the Turks, to serve as a double agent. Skanderbeg, moved by his kinsman's sorrow, releases him. Amesa finds his family — but shortly after, death takes him, and sorrow seizes his children and wife. The poet closes the rima with a weary turning away: "I turn my verses from these deeds."

Narrative

9.
Where once the friend of thunder was tested on the weather's keels,
mercy strained, torment diminished — Moses gained his chosen authority.

10.
His sorrow was destroyed within that ill-won hall;
the sun cast its fortune upon him, as old virtues departed
and faithful loyalties showed their hope in vain.

11.
Next the news bore this: the spear-bearer grieved,
for another troll of treachery showed its wounds.

12.
The ruler of Epirus had a brother's son —
one he had been rather good to, and honored more than most.

13.
He could not enjoy the riches that all men praised —
the kingdom's ruling counsel most of all,
for among its proven nobles he had been raised.

14.
Dear affection the prince had shown to that one,
as though he were his own son and should wear a fair garland.

15.
He was called Amesa — that one, truly deceitful,
a treacherous bolt; more of him I can read forth and tell.

16.
The traitor prepared himself and took the folk and children;
yet whatever schemes he drew, no one had accused him still.

17.
His treacherous nature he then turned to its purpose;
he found Mehmed, and sought from him the words of war.

18.
The treacherous one pressed forward, the feathered villain —
the bought man's tongue spoke reproach by the ship-sheds, without honor.

19.
He begs the emperor for an army to wage war swiftly:
the sturdy men shall act — and he claims he can prevail without blood.

20.
Day and night the prince let warriors gather in hosts,
most distinguished in the storm of swords;
from the borders' edge he nearly wept.

21.
A false host of warriors — fifty thousand he sent,
and terrifying numbers from other folk not formerly seen in war.

22.
Armies covered the land, their dark horses clad in gear;
no folk could stand against them there — thundering swords to the choosing.

23.
The crash of the battle-ranks was heard, the earth shook beneath them;
the bold captain of the sword was called Isaac.

24.
Most swiftly from the hall the army's vanguard marched;
the Epirote realm they meant to seize with the runners of the spear.

25.
The troop did not wait — wonderfully swift in march;
with treacherous men they rode, and the banner was upon that road.

26.
Skanderbeg then received word of the multitude of Turkish troops;
the people of the land rallied, as the host drew ever nearer.

27.
Eleven thousand warriors — all he could gather then;
wonderfully eager for the spear, forth from there they rode.

28.
The Turkish multitude in their ranks pressed forward;
the field of battle spread wide, and the warriors found each other.

29.
The wound-count then spread — men on both sides;
from the battle's plague upon them, the lances fell away.

30.
The hero then beheld the Turkish army's fierce advance;
he turned back swiftly with his troop, withdrawing from the clash across the field.

31.
Until holy fear drove the champion's heir to fame —
he enticed the lords forward, and in their hearts flight took hold.

32.
When the sword-god's hastened sting had won great victory,
he turned the blade-meeting — ruin was dealt all around.

33.
From this the hero's heart gained its greatest joy:
Amesa the Epirote was named the guilty one.

34.
Fearlessly and altogether they charged without a care,
striking heads — men pounded amid the red-stained slaughter.

35.
Joy then stood when their best was of such account:
Skanderbeg with bright valor waded through the battle-roads to them.

36.
A host fell in his fierce course against the army;
the folk fell to him with a wrench — they drank their fill of sorrow.

37.
Skanderbeg with the wound-twig struck many asunder;
his tireless sword hissed and cut through sinew and bone.

38.
The brave army of Epirus felled the Turkish waves;
hardly could war-payment be reckoned — the half-dead wept.

39.
Under the blood of spears, amid the sword-god's own —
thirty thousand men fell there in the many dances of war.

40.
Many were captured — freedom they found only slowly, and long after;
sated wolves gorged greedily upon the grief of the vanquished.

41.
Skanderbeg then offered his kinsman
shelter from the swords' strife — though into captivity he would be taken.

42.
The sword-wielders, as a bond, the troop enjoyed their victory;
both sides made binding pledges — the hall's honor was restored.

43.
The prince was stripped of his fetters' might,
deprived of his lordly seat —
thus went the kingly heir.

44.
Frightened, Isaac hurries from the battle-storm;
after the shield-meeting he gave way, fleeing the clash of weapons.

45.
With his own feet he fled full well, scarcely keeping life to give thanks;
tormented, he found his way to Constantinople's shore.

46.
Rome falls silent after this — men exchanged the fair troop's fortune;
songs of victory gained their joy.

47.
With the captives, Amesa was brought bound from there —
taken now to the assembly of judgment.

48.
All these captives were brought into the fortress,
tormented, wrapped in bitter sorrow — battle-forces led before the court.

49.
Men shoved the bound captive onto the horse's back;
in iron fetters flew the news — through the heart of the fortress it rang.

50.
The folk marveled greatly when they saw this man —
for he had previously held the highest rank from Skanderbeg.

51.
The lord then sent word to Alfonso,
bearing the matter near to the royal city of Naples.

52.
The king of men was a wise friend who received the tidings;
he sat in dominion of his realm, tormented by trials of many kinds.

53.
When the prince from death's harsh realm was helped,
the ruler gained back the Epirote captain;
the wolf of spears hastened forth.

54.
In custody the warrior of steel remained in the fortress of Kruja;
never did he walk from there to gain what once was his.

55.
With heavy sorrow the poet reflects — though it was little for kings to bear —
Skanderbeg wisely wrote of his own mercy.

56.
That he might win his freedom from bitter affliction,
he promised to mend his broken ways and turn his spirit from grief.

57.
He said he would reveal the enemy's forces to the wise prince's domain —
if Skanderbeg would grant mercy, filled with goodness across the land.

58.
He swore to serve with due measure once he was freed,
and to let the fair shield be his once more.

59.
The tormented one vowed to journey to Turkey's court
and find the ring-folk there among his children,
and pray for mercy from the emperor.

60.
From there he would write to Skanderbeg the truth —
what he wished to know, and what was of true necessity.

61.
The guardian of jewels spoke: "I will tell you
all that may come to serve the honor and protection of this land."

62.
"If you release a captive with just counsel, as I show,
so shall my broken state be mended — brother, both your spirit and mine."

63.
Sorrow made his pleading so earnest;
his difficult and prepared way at last won Skanderbeg's mercy.

64.
Released, he departs quietly from that place;
he thanks the liberator for his freedom,
finds the king's children where they dwell,
and the dear ones in haste.

65.
The people welcome the ring-bearer, freed from evil's bonds;
with fair promises the pledges took their shape before him.

66.
He dwelt there for a time; yet shortly after,
death's hard hand fell upon him,
and sorrow seized his children and wife.

67.
The gold-troop of warriors, in their war-ships arrayed,
struck at the poison-blade of the host —
that the ring-bearer's allies should find no refuge.

68.
Thus the treacherous end they received, and the poet turns:
ill it is to land upon such a course —
I turn my verses from these deeds.

69.
The horse-reddener bears his burden;
the poet lays down his song.
The raven's harvest grows heated —
the people are steered with judgment's choice.

Sjöunda Ríma

The seventh canto of Hannes Bjarnason's Skanderbegsrimur (1861), the rima of four armies. After the treachery and capture of the sixth rima, the poet turns westward — Skanderbeg crosses the Adriatic to help Ferdinand of Naples reclaim his throne from the Duke of Anjou, then returns to face a relentless Ottoman assault. Sultan Mehmed II, humiliated by repeated defeats, sends four separate armies under four commanders: Synak with twenty thousand, Assambeg with thirty thousand, Jassumbeg with eighteen thousand, and the aged Curazabeg with four thousand. Skanderbeg defeats them all. His fame spreads from Persia to Egypt — two empires tremble at one man. The sultan, exhausted, sues for peace. A truce is made. But Venice, that "worst of all" in the poet's words, opposes the accord and sends messengers to spoil it. The poet closes in weariness — seven rimur in, the weight of Skanderbeg's deeds outpaces the verse that carries them.

Narrative

9.
Then changed the song of the battle-horn, roaring well:
the poison of shields' red had driven men toward death's measure.

10.
The Turks now see their losses by the foam of shields,
and not a few have earned the praise of swords.

11.
They wished to fasten firm a truce with no relenting —
that the war-bands should no longer win their wounds by steel.

12.
The treaty gave the wise gold-enjoyer's trust —
yet it availed nothing; he bore courage in defiance.

13.
But when he managed a cease of the steel's clash for a time,
he promised them to spare the sword-grove's strife.

14.
Then he turned his thought toward Valland's shore —
and stirred the matter onward, to make the year bear fruit.

15.
Mehmed sat beside the deed, the tree of the realm's distress,
that he should avert the scorn — not at his tempest for a time.

16.
News came from the sun of the fjords: of treacherous battle-storms —
Naples now set forth; the spear-struggle had begun.

17.
The fierce hosts pressed hard; fate dealt its cruelty;
the king lay prone before the lady, hidden by the enemy's works.

18.
A prince there wished to free the realm — Ferdinand he was called;
Alfonso's heir, the young shield-hardener.

19.
Before that, his father — the strong bender of trials —
had stood well in the dance of spears, and sent his valiant men.

20.
The Duke of Anjou — the yew-tree in the field's storm —
had harshly fallen upon the king and seized his wife.

21.
With such a French army he traveled in the armour-storm,
thinking to rule himself rightly by the might he bore.

22.
He cast upon the yielding land his loose war-cry;
all the fortresses he took and seized — he held Naples.

23.
Against them Skanderbeg was summoned — the awaited host slackened;
the tempest of swords fought hard, and the iron wakened.

24.
Since the accustomed hands of the victory-sun enjoyed their strength,
the plundering army hurled unaccustomed death upon the foe.

25.
The age told the battle of the elm-storm — no cliff for all the swords;
he destroyed the duke's army there in strife.

26.
Christians could not be harmed — the double swiftness of swords —
Ferdinand gained dominion over all the land's high seat.

27.
Then they praised in verse the bright ruler's path —
the fortress cities yielded and would not resist the prince.

28.
Here one may see how the shield of swords, the great ruler's counsel,
won his people's oaths of loyalty — they vowed, and they accepted peace.

29.
Ferdinand, his enemies now slain, freed the land from woe;
the commander lost nowhere — here he tarried not with harm.

30.
The treacherous one found from them the greatest measure;
the honest prince held home, and praise he never lacked.

31.
But while the prince's equal held the sword-storm's halt,
it is told that Mehmed gathered men in readiness.

32.
The stern sword's tempest he willed — that could scarcely be called sport;
all the hosts of his lands he therefore called together.

33.
From the land's high ground the foliage-covered praise of battle came;
none among the folk dared refuse the spears from the halls.

34.
The red precious blood was set — the lordly folk spared nothing;
to Epirus the age commanded all to march at once.

35.
In troops he let the warriors' tents go forth;
Synak was called the one who first led the swift advance.

36.
Twenty thousand with the host of warriors he brought,
and terrifying numbers from peoples not formerly seen in war.

37.
Before the shield-pillars could seize the land and people,
Skanderbeg came and bore the corslet's ruin upon the warriors.

38.
Together in haste eight thousand he drew to him;
the most bold-minded at the sword's din, the bears of battle he struck.

39.
All were astounded at the clash of swords — the heathens stood;
they knew nothing of the prince's heir, that he was there upon their trail.

40.
The death-blind lords fell — those who were sundered suffered;
some from the edge-shower managed to flee in haste.

41.
The weary thorn of battle, covered in the heavy dread,
Synak found no victory's hope, as before he had thought himself a champion.

42.
The other fool was Assambeg — never honourable —
with sore tools along the slaying-road he wished to seize the victory.

43.
Thirty thousand troops he had, wearied with battle's strain;
yet neither scorching nor spring's fighting could stop the defense.

44.
As with the others, all went likewise for them —
steel at the din of the wound-bench; most of the champions fell.

45.
The lord struck boldly in the waves of death — courage he awakened;
some fled; the victory was sealed, and the warriors' fortune was lost.

46.
On the battle-roads the sword's bane shook;
Assambeg, in the torment of spear-points, was taken captive.

47.
The champions of the shield's verse drove the wound upon the wicked;
those who had boasted on the battle-field were now tested by bonds.

48.
The captive burned along the path when this distress was tasted;
three-fold the darkness fell from the heathens' broken host.

49.
The defiant warriors set upon the certain road of battle;
with iron claws along the way, Jassumbeg steered his forces high.

50.
With him eighteen thousand warriors ventured to ride;
greatly the men rejoiced — least of all they spared their laughter.

51.
Swiftly Skanderbeg marched forth with his warriors;
the scoundrels shrieked and the storm's torment fell upon them.

52.
The hero stretched the battle there — edges flayed with wounds;
together the warriors pressed, and carried themselves into the fray.

53.
Great strength through the mist of battle — the metal stretched the scar;
the spear-borers received death, each one laid crosswise.

54.
The people's courage deadened for a time — that was the price of harm;
all slept death's slumber, reddened with blood.

55.
The fear-stricken battle gave all warriors its reckoning,
and he reduced the people's might beneath the sun's tent.

56.
That Mehmed should be able to stand against him — he who bore
the storm of spear-points above the sword's thicket.

57.
Greater than all at the metal's root, the prince was heard of old;
no spear-battle against the boards of war could match him.

58.
In Persia, Egypt, and the north — with all peoples —
so they feared the folk-lord, the chain of all lands' dread.

59.
Then the all-fearsome one increased his terror through the ages;
over two empires he held his sovereign power.

60.
The peace-destroying one shone forth — most he wrapped in his domain;
and many kings he had stripped of their crowns.

61.
Dreadful terror made the warriors tremble at this —
that Skanderbeg should be greater than all shield-kings.

62.
The string of fear at the heart's root burst the people soonest;
none dared match the prince — the warriors would fight no longer.

63.
With age upon age the folk suffered his terror;
Turkish power went back and forth — the afflicted champions trembled.

64.
Curazabeg was his name — one who had faced the swift of battle;
the steel's flame now in dire need — the old warrior did not want it.

65.
Grown old, he readied his resolve — the tested one of strife's cords;
once the mighty one at the steel's clash had dared to challenge all.

66.
Before the bold one at the shield-storm's edge — the wolf's fierce strength —
both Murad and Mehmed he had faced with great persistence.

67.
Clad in battle's garb, he found his warlike encounters;
often in strife he had used the spear-weight's victories.

68.
Each honour he had once held at the ring-grove's court —
that is known by the words of the prince's kinsmen.

69.
He said he feared the sea-fire's rider more at the meeting
than the court that guards the steel holds the battle-tree in summer.

70.
So Curazabeg went swiftly — the warriors' gray companion;
with harshness loud, his court of followers stepped forth.

71.
Because the land's loss pressed him into the dark and the claws,
the might of his realm sought to enjoy the gold of conquest.

72.
Four thousand of the warrior's host he swiftly sent away;
peace-eager toward the gods' peace — the battle-thunder's force compelled.

73.
These people — the spear-adorned folk — joy they could not hide;
they bade the warriors wait in Macedonia's land.

74.
Skanderbeg heard the news — and swiftest he descended;
this troop he soon struck there in the clash of battle's storm.

75.
The lord forced death upon them there — the wounds pressed hard;
the army's general heard what was said of his warriors' ruin.

76.
Struck with fear from this, the warriors were seized;
the doomed of the prince's guard could not turn back.

77.
The terror grew in every thought — the great power was helpless;
at Skanderbeg's name now, the champions shook in their going.

78.
Every warrior who could, ran — they had faced fierce encounters;
to the prince's hall they fled, and so they gained only speed.

79.
The Sultan let go of the hungry torment — the pain of war ceased;
he thought to bring home his people whole and healed.

80.
And in the steel's glamour, that few fell on the quiet field,
likewise the commander held his shield and his own skin.

81.
That army-lord the prince valued most of all his warrior-groves;
these four armies the prince's heir conquered and overcame.

82.
Now the prince sees — sore at the root — the warrior unyielding;
none can stand against him, neither on sea nor on land.

83.
The prince wrote then to the ruler, bidding forth his terms,
that they should yield in honourable acceptance of peace.

84.
That sport was ended — it is said by choice —
so that they together should never coldly contest their days.

85.
The prince's kin then gave answer, receiving the pledge;
together they bound the strife — the warriors' mates found rest.

86.
Neither would strive to seize the other; the one would not contest.
The Christian folk perceived for themselves — they did not hinder this.

87.
They meant the gleaming accord should follow right;
yet in Venice — worst of all — they disputed this treaty.

88.
It seemed to the sword-bearers' woe — honestly he could not bear it;
a messenger to him, the herald, was sent to carry a letter.

89.
The kinsman's tale presses forward where the poet's verses end;
the spinning ship of story cannot hold the keel's full wake.

Áttunda Ríma

The eighth canto of Hannes Bjarnason's Skanderbegsrimur (1861), the rima of Ballaban. Where the seventh rima's mansongur was eight stanzas of a weary poet, the eighth expands to nineteen — the longest in the cycle — and the weariness has become defiance. The poet turns from Skanderbeg's wars to defend the rimur tradition itself against Enlightenment-era critics who mock the old verse forms. He names Espolín (Jon Espolín, 1769-1836), the great historian, and insists that even prose's finest champion would not starve the poets. Then the narrative resumes: the truce from the seventh rima has collapsed. The European Christian powers fail to unite. Skanderbeg fights increasingly alone. Sultan Mehmed II sends a new force under Ballaban Pasha (Ballaban Badera) — an Albanian born in Epirus, like Skanderbeg himself, but serving the Ottoman throne. The poet dwells on this bitter irony: countryman against countryman. Ballaban proves the fiercest opponent yet. Battles rage at Svetigrad. Moses and Perlatus fight beside Skanderbeg. Grief fills Epirus — yet Skanderbeg does not flinch. The eighth rima returns to ferskeytt meter (ABAB, four-line stanzas), the same meter as the first — the cycle comes home as the war grows darkest. Historically covers c.1462-1466.

Narrative

20.
The spindle's fury stood aroused,
dreams stirred by battle's strife;
a host of shield-reddeners was sent —
war raged against the Christian people.

21.
It was said they hoped for victory
through the sword's desire;
but that Christian prince's son
would not fall before them.

22.
The Christian peoples of the land
made alliance against the Turks
to shed blood upon the heights;
soon arose the heavy crash of steel.

23.
The peoples knew the gleaming shields;
the war-god beheld the arrows fly
wherever they sang; beneath the banner's sun
the battle-tester proved his worth.

24.
From every nation in the land
support was sought in truth,
that an army might stand against the heathens
in the hard dance of swords.

25.
The bold lord of battle-gleam
thought it finer honor
to strengthen with his chosen men
the surging Christian host.

26.
The wavering counsel of proven lineage
he heard from that company;
for the faith he swore his oath
and yielded nothing of his own.

27.
A coastal raid was made
upon the ruler's lands;
the steel-sword raged across the ground —
on that blood-soaked earth, spirits perished.

28.
Victory was won and war-spoils taken
by the mighty sword-wielder;
he held the road with battle's whetstone
and plunder's bright adornment.

29.
Another death befell
during this dark time;
perforce they walked the death-road —
and the fair one rested in the host.

30.
Christian peoples were urged to take up
the keen-edged sword against them;
against the heathens' host and fury
to wage their bloody war.

31.
Unity was lacking among the warriors
during this time;
battle-councils were arranged
to compel the champions into the fray.

32.
No peoples wished to wage that war
to its sharp conclusion;
alone he was left to fight —
the valiant champion, all by himself.

33.
Against the Turkish companies,
fierce and cruel, the spear-wielders
were directed to drive them from the fortress
and wear the Christians down.

34.
Mohammed — whom I name
the hastener of metal —
the shield-lord ordered his forces
to rise swiftly to the attack.

35.
That enraged lord wished
to avenge himself on Skanderbeg;
he saw that battle turned against him,
and sent worthy forces with all speed.

36.
To repay the thorns of cunning,
these held cold council
against the prince and his domain —
the realm's rulers stood opposed.

37.
Though Epirus's prince and army
counted themselves more valiant,
precious few fighters remained —
the thunder had come from the outer world.

38.
Fortune diminished and served them little;
hardship yielded nothing from their labors;
little came of their pressed forces,
for the edge-hardened warriors challenged them.

39.
That heedless multitude
was bent upon destruction;
there eyes beheld unrest —
the valiant champion's peace was ended.

40.
The heathens drove on with fresh blood;
ten thousand were reckoned there,
pouring forth from the jaws of hell itself.

41.
The armored commander's fortune
turned ill that time;
torment drove its course,
and the emperor's sons pressed hard.

42.
Anger bit with savage fury
and drove where it would;
the wrath of that noted prince was terrible —
many men's lives were lost to view.

43.
The chieftain found no easy road
wherever he turned;
battle raged on like a storm,
and the warring host was fearsome.

44.
A keeper of the grey steed came forth,
a wielder of brands in adversity —
Ballaban is his name,
accustomed to war and skilled in combat.

45.
That Badera, bender of spears,
born of a line both noble and fierce,
named here for the clash of metals —
no greater warrior bore the staff.

46.
He was born in Epirus,
never afraid of battle on the field;
clad in war's cowl, he harmed
the Christians — slew and struck among them.

47.
This one served the Turks
and enjoyed their favor,
strengthened their forces and provisions,
and swam in the great deeds of war.

48.
With envious fury he hastened
to his lord's bidding;
the Christians shrank as the Sultan grew,
and Constantinople was taken.

49.
The foremost in deceit,
that warrior carved his way;
he struck down the city's people
and dealt them death in heaps.

50.
He let his deeds be known
in the light of fame's reckoning;
his glory was not diminished —
many knew the slaughter he wrought.

51.
Therefore was it a bitter meaning
and wholly hateful to the people
that the fleeing sword's road should lead
against Skanderbeg himself.

52.
Ballaban then went forth
with the sword, no small warrior;
the least of his laments fell short —
with him marched a great and mighty host.

53.
They met Skanderbeg swiftly
and struck heavy shield-blows;
swords ground bones to fragments,
and warriors lost their breath at once.

54.
The commander, hardened in battle,
proved the greatest trial of war;
fiercely fighting, he oppressed
the Christians worst of all.

55.
From this it can be seen
what a noble-spirited and great man he was —
at the clash of steel,
though the whole army trembled, he did not flinch.

56.
Valiantly they charged into the weapon-cliffs;
well and long they held out,
these bold men with their endurance —
though the multitude was overwhelming.

57.
Here amid the battle he witnessed
great hardship, long accustomed to its weight;
he won a breathing-space for the champions
and a respite for the Christian folk.

58.
Nowhere did he yield,
wherever he stood, each man holding firm;
he hastened to lead the great army —
scarcely could any stand before his bared steel.

59.
The hardest fighters at the sword's clash —
the worst of that army pressed far forward,
whetted in fierce play,
so that most of them were silenced.

60.
Moses the swift was there,
and Perlatus, valiant and true;
their spears ran hot with blood —
no champion was better matched for battle.

61.
With burnished blades they raged
at Svetigrad most fiercely,
until the host lost half its number
to the Turks' destruction.

62.
Ballaban, accustomed to the sword's bite,
then sent word
to Constantinople, to the sovereign's throne —
the prey was found.

63.
Fierce war fell upon the ruler;
great torments followed as he roused
his fair champions to the field —
in the storm of battle he found his marks.

64.
The champion let none of the living escape;
the sorrow greatly increased
for the guardian of the Christian people
in those dark and bitter days.

65.
All men in Epirus
were caught in sorrow's grip;
they received a bitter twofold blow
and grief beyond all reckoning.

66.
Struck with great grief,
yet Skanderbeg was not afraid;
he hardened his own resolve
and led his chosen army onto the field.

67.
A new and greatest battle he beheld;
the thunder-crash of war grew
like lightning flashing
from the clouds above.

68.
Ballaban, accustomed to the sword,
best at the thrust, attacked fiercely;
shields were hewn with the sword's haste —
every mail-coat burst asunder.

69.
The valiant Epirot army,
guardians of the realm,
stood amid the spear-thunder —
young men falling into death's host.

70.
The worthy champion cut down warriors
and made every man in the army tremble;
thus ended the long battle there —
the host lay fallen, overcome.

71.
To Constantinople again
some men fled from the rout;
the brand struck swift and sure —
Ballaban was left as commander.

72.
Here the tale's grinding wears thin
and strength's slope grows steep;
if the hearer desires more,
then I shall brew more of poetry's ale.

Níunda Ríma

The ninth canto of Hannes Bjarnason's Skanderbegsrimur (1861). Where the eighth rima expanded the mansongur to nineteen defiant stanzas, the ninth contracts to ten — a quieter prelude, the poet reflecting on weariness and diminishing powers before resuming the tale. The narrative covers the renewed Ottoman campaigns of 1466-1467: Ballaban Pasha returns with fresh armies, the great siege of Kruje unfolds, Skanderbeg's stronghold is tested to breaking. European allies waver. The Venetians send promises but little steel. Skanderbeg fights on, outnumbered, unbowed. Sultan Mehmed's generals grind against the Albanian mountains and break. The poet drives toward the endgame — one rima remains after this. Historically covers c.1466-1467.

Narrative

11.
Before the poem's savor rises
to the market and the reader,
the Turks have hastened homeward,
having often tasted fear's sting.

12.
The chieftain shook the fleeing host
with iron steps and laden shields;
he stood with bloodied blade aloft
against the streaming ranks that broke.

13.
The damage wrought seemed a new scourge
upon the foe in that campaign;
the whirling storm of battle drove him
fleeing forth with dread behind.

14.
Yet there one stills no man
amidst the rage between them;
the weapon-spiller wills again
to send his forces back to war.

15.
He knew the land and knew it best,
that the fiercest warband hungers;
he struck with sword and flaming chest
and sought to harm the Christians most.

16.
The battle-goddess gave him strength;
he holds now to the labor;
his troops, prepared, set forth to march
through the trees with clashing iron.

17.
Skanderbeg soon braced for the blow —
the stout-hearted lord held fast;
together he drew the people's host
across the land's roads into the field.

18.
Warriors of the shield-wound's need
drew cold-hearted blades;
the clash of spears they call
the battle near Svetigrad.

19.
Laws and boards like a storm of leaves
stained the earth with blood;
the fighters struck with knotted force —
neither side spared the other's ground.

20.
Bows fell, shields shattered,
blood from wounds came welling;
there many hundreds lost their lives,
scattered like sand upon the field.

21.
None could say who held the day —
though some would claim the prize;
with blue-edged blades the heroes' labor
echoed from the cliffs.

22.
A hero's glory, a bitter wound
for many a sword-bearing warrior;
the clash of steel resounds afar —
the groaning reaches heaven's frame.

23.
The Epirot champion kneels,
knowing the ruin of roses —the wound upon the people's earth
and the shadow of the fallen.

24.
Through the host he charged headlong,
the shield-guarded, fear-striking;
the fire-maker's brand he wielded —
and the Turk he bore down with giant's fury.

25.
The sword-flame's terror swiftly struck
and shook the warriors from their stands;
he split the ranks apart with speed —
the hero's might broke through like storm.

26.
The Turks fell in great numbers then,
the wound-stricken at the walls;
all marveled at this man's fierce strength,
the seldom-seen destroyer.

27.
More honor and more glory
he thought to win with his own might;
the war-flames leapt, the iron sang
beyond what any hero could.

28.
The champion's valor held the field,
and bravely stood amid the spears;
the Turks received the gift of death —
Skanderbeg's fury spared no one.

29.
The clash was heavy, hundreds fell,
a multitude upon the earth;
the people swarmed like wind-tossed birds,
the fallen piled past counting.

30.
Against such force no wall could stand;
the hero pushed through battle's haze;
his iron forced the warriors back —
a storm that knows no gentle gust.

31.
The Turks found trust in vain — their force
met stone that would not break;
the Christians fell to Skanderbeg's care,
and the champion was called Soltmann.

32.
Hard need pressed upon the warriors;
no rest from the weight of struggle;
even the faintest breath of peace
was spent upon the sword's red edge.

33.
Foreign pleasures, foreign wealth —
they say of many a man who falls —the tale runs to its end,
and the first blade tastes the depths.

34.
The Turks upon their ships ran out
in white-sailed hosts at sea;
they sailed onward, swift of hull —
the storm of battle raged within.

35.
The flight ran through the breaking waves,
the ruin swept the fields;
the Turks' captain vanished in the dark,
death's shadow fell upon the shore.

36.
Balla-banus grew pale with horror,
the dread grip of a nation's fury
fell upon the hero's broad command —
and the burning brands grew slow.

37.
Harla fair fortune met the hermit there,
and of men who went their way,
some few of steel dared face the good —
he stilled whatever had been said.

38.
A great warrior's name now blazes forth,
the shield-fortress stands unbroken;
the battle turns in ways
that even his own men were changed.

39.
Now the prince seeks a new advantage,
a fresh army of bright swords;
he has brought the burning brands —
the heroes' autumn has begun.

40.
Cat and engine speak alike
when the war-mast hoists its sails;
the Christians' fortress held against the siege —
a standing wall that would not bend.

41.
Where the stallion fell and warriors went,
where the ride itself was done,
the horse of battle broke and ran
far past the bounds of light.

42.
The Turks' ranks broke in splendid defeat,
the fleeing swords all scattered;
it profits nothing to search for God
when the retreat has turned to rout.

43.
One's own people — what a bitter test —
who knew the fire that dims the sun;
they bore the dark blood's stain
upon the walls of faith and pride.

44.
On Skanderbeg — that stubborn war-tree —
a great wound fell upon the people's love,
and the Turks he drove from the realm,
the giant force retreating.

45.
No one could match his spirit's weight,
the fires he blew from his own breast;
the battle-tester stilled the land —
his mark was written in the bone.

46.
Venetian words flew bravely spoken,
the handshake of the French was felt;
the people knew the promises —
yet valor wandered loose and cold.

47.
Balla-siban marched with sword and brand,
his spear thick with battle-resin;
the false alliances broke like glass
before the emperor's storm.

48.
A great commotion stirred the world,
the mass of fighters never resting;
the fallen, the defeated ones —
they bore the weight of storm and glory.

49.
Then the battle-smoke gathered thickly,
a broken pair of warriors fell;
the iron land was steeped in blood —
the heroes clung to the burning walls.

50.
Jagop holds the iron path;
war is the festival he loves;
one army swallows up the other —
the fall and the fight run on.

51.
The waterfall of battle crashed
against the strength of the iron ships;
the wound-belt broke the blood-soaked hull —
the battle washed over him.

52.
The twin walls of the Turks' campaign
swallowed the bright and brave;
the rough talk of men's opinion
was swallowed in the crash of steel.

53.
The highest hearts were first to break —
the falling shield-wall came undone;
the oak grew old, and ancient paths
gave out beneath the struggle.

54.
The warrior held — and you may trust —the bright and golden shield still shone;
the sun descended over war's red field —
the blood ran cold beneath the stone.

55.
Balla-fyrst, the sword's commander,
rode the reddened brand to battle;
the war-light fell upon the field,
and many a man was lost to darkness.

56.
Jagop met him stroke for stroke,
the hero's fire burned against the foe;
then from the falling host a voice —
the battle found its ancient tune.

57.
The other battle proved its mark:
the herald's steel sang through the air;
Balla-sidan sent his men to fight,
and the rider came with strength and wrath.

58.
He wished the people well, they say,
who stood with faith and shield;
he set his mark on the broken field
and named the fallen one by one.

59.
On the burning field the heroes climbed —
the great ones fell like lesser stars;
the ancient plain was scorched with war
until the smoke began to thin.

60.
Within the host all fury gathered
as the shield-fire swallowed bone;
the vanguard fell before the wind
and the battle shook the ground of heaven.

61.
First among the shining warriors
came the thunder from the mountain's brow;
the burning brand was called Skanderbeg —
and before him every wall was low.

62.
The iron sword held the field and drove
the multitude to breaking-point;
it struck with molten fortune's edge —
the blood ran free upon the earth.

63.
Courage entered then with brightness,
the heroes felt the lightning's dart;
the fleeing host turned back to fight,
the fortress held against the fall.

64.
The champion stayed in his own land,
the battle broke the people's will;
the Turks retreated, burned and broken,
the hero's name was called again.

65.
The work endures — the poet knows
that Balla-banus marches still;
the frontier burns with ancient fire
and the night has not yet found its end.

66.
By a stream the broken host stood gathered,
the lord of iron and of pain;
no rest for the captain of the faithful —
the struggle knows no morning's ease.

67.
Balla-neydir, the heroes' shield-lord,
bent the battle's mighty tree;
his war-wounds spoke of deathless valor,
and the Turk retreated from the field.

68.
It fell to him — and this was worst —
that he see the gleaming ships depart;
the high queen of battle watched,
the star of dawn had risen late.

69.
The clash of steel resounded still,
the stout one heard the ringing din;
his ancient sword grew dim with use,
the hero felt the falling weight.

70.
The spear-strong's fury held its course
through many a long and bitter age;
many brave men the warrior captured —
his contest spanned both sea and shore.

71.
The sword-bearer's mind and fury shook
the strong foundations of the battle-host;
his worth, a rock against the flood,
flew the flag of Ballaban's advance.

72.
With fire the warrior struck his blow —
a storm of steel, the scar of blood;
though the odds were black as raven's wing,
Skanderbeg held firm and true.

73.
With honor fair the warriors fought,
the gleaming swords and burnished gold;
the heroes' hearts beat hard and bright
amidst the swirling iron haze.

74.
Skanderbeg saw well the scheme —
the bitter loss and wretched ruin;
he set his brand upon the road
and drove the enemy from view.

75.
The near-spent host was all his wealth,
the distant armies unreturning;
the sea-road bore no help to him,
the sweeping grief drew ever closer.

76.
The bold lord Skanderbeg set forth
to shatter the invaders' walls;
the weather of great swords he found,
the gale roaring, iron calling.

77.
A gift of rain they found — that glory
of a former age, the first and true;the beacon-fire, the falling stars,
the hero's name engraved in bone.

78.
The Epirot captain, the shield-lord's hope,
stood among the weary ranks;
he drove the routed foe away
as one drives cattle from the field.

79.
Through the host with broken shields
the warrior pressed, the storm advancing;
the helm he set on the hill of praise —
the wonder that would not be dimmed.

80.
Long endured the spear-strewn field;
the battle's need pressed hard on bone;
the mighty lord his fury held
until the very end of day.

81.
Swift the captain struck, the falling blade
held no rest nor quarter's share;
in the night that comes for every king,
the iron held its ancient oath.

82.
The shining waves of battle-force
broke upon the warriors' swell;
the harsh-breathing host pressed cold
against the wall at evening's call.

83.
Two great armies met in ruin,
from the shining fields like water flowed;
first the burning brand of Skanderbeg,
then its echo in the afterglow.

84.
Against the prophet Mahometh's army
rode the warrior firm of will;
the shield-cover drank the spear —
and hear: this is a tale of faith.

85.
The struggle rises still for me —
but more the need of many a wound;
the burning brands of war are falling —
and the drum beats on my ground.

86.
Of Skanderbeg I still would speak,
the stalwart one upon the shore;
his land is broad and glorious,
and I shall run its round once more.

87.
Another age shall show its worth —
the mark of what we earned will stand;
all that dims me, draws beneath me,
and the road grows short ahead.

88.
I will drive the warriors forth,
the bright shields broken on the field;
the two-edged steel of fortune turns —
the dying shine, the living reel.

89.
Hairs on a sprung bow, fast the warriors fell —
the count of battle stretching wide;
they found that nothing still remained
save two thousand lying dead.

90.
So it stood for the people's strength;
the war-tree breaks, the battle dims;
no one believes what's left of them —
and none shall raise them but the sea.

91.
A former land is here beneath the walls —
the horn shall sound where poets dwell;
the verse endures a little while —
and the measure holds its ground right here.

Tíunda Ríma

The tenth and final canto of Hannes Bjarnason's Skanderbegsrimur (1861). The poet addresses his muse for the last time in an extended mansongur of eighteen stanzas — the farewell of a craftsman who has fought two wars, one on the page and one in the story. The narrative covers the final siege of Kruje (1467): the Ottomans attempt to assassinate Skanderbeg through bribery, fail, and assault the fortress directly. Skanderbeg fights in person, lends his sword to a warrior who cannot wield it, and takes it back with the legendary retort. Ballaban Pasha is killed by a stone from the walls — the poet splitting his name one final time with tmesis. The Turks withdraw. Then the hero ages, sickens at sixty-three, and the Turks return. Skanderbeg rises from his deathbed, grasps his sword, and drives them back once more. Then he dies — January 17, 1468, in Lezhe. The eulogy runs twenty-two stanzas: twenty-four years of war, a faith unbroken, the name George Kastriota restored, the source Marin Barleti acknowledged, and the grim coda — Ottoman soldiers exhume his bones and wear them as talismans, believing the dead hero's courage might pass to the living. The cycle closes with a prayer. First known complete English translation of any part of this cycle.

Narrative

19.
Where I left off before,
the assembly gave its judgment:
the noble folk of Epirus
received no kindly welcome.

20.
The great host set about preparing
their multitude for war,
around Kruje herself they gathered,
and the surge of battle rose.

21.
Before the siege could grip the fortress,
cunning men with spite and sorrow
laid a scheme — a wealthy traitor
sought to betray Skanderbeg.

22.
Two purchased men were sent with gold
to creep upon him unaware,
whether by stealth to take his life
or else by poison lay him low.

23.
But loyal men would not consent —
those cowards found no willing heart;
the faithful burned within them,
and the plotters' snare was torn.

24.
Those caught were taken to the stake,
their treachery repaid in kind;
though bitter war still gripped the land,
swift justice hung upon the wall.

25.
When the lord saw clearly
that Skanderbeg could not be tricked,
and that no cunning craft
could break the iron of his will —

26.
Then fury burned within the lord,
he called his host from every camp,
and urged his men with greatest haste
to storm the fortress walls.

27.
Helm-riders of the blade he swore:
those who fought with courage
would keep their honor whole,
and cowards bear their shame.

28.
Around the stronghold's ramparts
the slingers of bright steel took post,
the foremost captains, swift deployed —
the war-band followed close behind.

29.
Grim beneath, the host surged up,
fierce and raging on the field;
song in the mountain hollows echoed
as the ground itself was shaken.

30.
Then the wild assault began,
harsh and merciless in craft;
all the Turks could bring to bear
they hurled against the wall.

31.
Spears and javelins, hammers fell,
and stones as heavy as could lift —
every war-machine they had,
and all that could do harm.

32.
The walls shook under that assault,
the ramparts groaned beneath the blow;
on the narrowest of ledges
the Turkish host pressed hard.

33.
The fortress folk fought bravely back,
the finest of their strength they showed;
the hardy ones struck without rest,
and dealt the Turks a bitter blow.

34.
Small was the mark their arrows missed —
the spears found Turkish blood like rain;
among the fallen, wild and maddened,
the warriors cut each other down.

35.
Many fell to the defenders' steel,
the fortress-people held together;
Turkish ranks were broken, scattered,
heaped in piles upon the field.

36.
And then at once the sovereign lord
was seen upon the field of battle —
the fearless one upon the path of war
was Skanderbeg himself.

37.
The thunder of his weapon roared,
the Turks stood stunned in awe;
he drove through them like a flood
and steel rang wild around him.

38.
Wherever he appeared,
the wounds fell left and right;
no man dared face the fire
that walked upon the ground.

39.
The arrow-branches found their mark,
the keen blade carved the host;
the champion in the ruin
stood tall above the fallen.

40.
Blood flowed from the warriors there,
the dark field filled with wounds;
the river of the slain ran red,
the brand's cold edge cut deep.

41.
Another tale is told of this,
of those brave days upon that wall:
the mighty kinsman met his match
in swords that few could bear.

42.
He would not yield from any ground,
the wise lord, swift and sure;
no shelter in the battle's storm —
the sword-serpent followed him.

43.
The blade cleaved through the helm,
through hand and flank alike;
along the full reach of the arm
many a sinew felt the edge.

44.
The emperor's man beheld the lord
and saw where his bright brand had split;
he thought that such a mistletoe of swords
could never find its like.

45.
He asked the generous lord
to lend the blade a little while,
to borrow it for battle's sake —
and Skanderbeg said yes.

46.
Though the man was strong enough,
his swinging arm could raise no stroke;
not one man of all the host
could wield that fire-steel.

47.
He returned it when the battle lulled,
and Skanderbeg gave answer:
"I lent the sword, but not the arm —
the arm of steel you cannot borrow."

48.
With him in war the great lord fought
until the bold ones fell or stood;
the age bears witness therefore
that little strength compares to his.

49.
Broken warriors fell before the blade
and tumbled bloodied to the square;
the battle's storm-wind ceased at last —
the emperor turned away in rage.

50.
Half the host went homeward then;
the rest remained with Balla-
formidable-banus, who still
pressed the fight with iron tools.

51.
The lord's kinsman understood
that others' haste was no excuse;

52.
He gathered strength from every root,
so that the Turks were held at bay;
and those who wished to see him fall
found the taste of battle hard.

53.
But suddenly the host was struck,
sorrow slashed through every rank —
for Balla-because-banus
was slain there in the din of war.

54.
One of the fortress thanes
had heaved a stone from high;
it struck the mighty captain's head —
that bold one died right there.

55.
His officers would not remain
to see the fighting-lord depart;
to Constantinople they withdrew,
and hard retreat was theirs.

56.
So ended, thus it went,
that battle of renown:
the Turks could never, in the end,
withstand the fortress they had stormed.

57.
Fortune endured beside
the greatest, Skanderbeg,
until a youthful sickness
tormented the graying hero's frame.

58.
The champion was now past
the three-and-sixtieth year;
he fell upon his bed at last,
pale and growing weak.

59.
The Turks then learned the warrior
was ailing in his land;
they hastened to make war on Epirus
and by force to seize the ground.

60.
The weakened fighter heard the news —
swift as an arrow's flight
he leapt from where he lay,
and grasped the sword, and seized the shield.

61.
When the Turkish host received the word
that he had risen grim and pale,
upon the road they found
no hope of easy victory.

62.
They saw their quarry near to death,
the graying warrior spent and wasting;
but still they dared not stand
against the man upon the field.

63.
The warriors fled, the host broke rank,
the ailing lord's last strength
burned hot — the sword-edge drank
until the field lay soaked and still.

64.
The fair champion let go of life;
across the land the people wept,
and every Christian heart
bore the weight of what was lost.

Eulogy

65.
That noble lord of weapons
held firm for long with steel in hand,
the Turks' most hated obstacle —
a wall that never broke.

66.
Now the mighty one was taken
from the fray by heaven's call,
for the Latin world had lost
the finest shield that Christendom possessed.

67.
No man beneath the sun,
however blessed by war's report,
had seen such courage proved
or fortune stand so near.

68.
No true tale can tell
another man's compare;
his equal lived but in the legends,
and his virtue held beyond all earthly praise.

69.
Against the Turks' full might
and all their overpowering steel,
the tyrant's yoke he bore and broke
for twenty-four unbroken years.

70.
Constantine himself, who held
the mightiest fame of warriors all,
if all the world's folk feared his name,
the lord of brands stood equal still.

71.
In two things fortune gave him less,
though war and worth stood equal by —
it seemed, and yet it also seemed
that steadfast luck was slight.

72.
Those who dared to face him
bore the red of bitter wounds;
none escaped unscathed who crossed
the helm-dance of his sword.

73.
Here beneath the shield's bright dome
stood the rider of the storm;
thousands he had cleaved apart
and sundered south to north.

74.
The wise tell tales of battles won,
of service to the faith in arms;
as one who felled the forest giants,
who stood as rampart to the realm.

75.
I, in this poor dwelling of my verse,
have told the tale of fire's throne;
rather than leave the saga silent,
so that men may hear it told.

76.
To all the people he was prince —
most generous and far-renowned;
son and heir and gold he gave
and did not spare his strength.

77.
Mild and gentle, true and loyal,
trusted among warriors' best;
he changed the ways of lesser men
and bore a hero's unbowed breast.

78.
Most God-fearing in his deeds,
with gifted valor sent to war;
his victories he won by faith,
and held the true religion best.

79.
In Christendom they called him thus,
as writings old and new record:
George, that knotted branch of Kastriota —
so he was named of old.

80.
Most of all the Christian host
esteemed the champion in their midst;
"I stand always here," he said,
"for I am Christ's own battle-lord."

81.
Many writers have told his tale,
and truth lives in their record;
the truest source of all
is Barleti, the man of Marin.

82.
The people of Epirus suffered still,
for after him the Turks prevailed;
the land was taken by the foe,
and all the bastions fell.

83.
Where the graying hero's son was laid,
the warriors came with wild intent;
the noblest relics of the dead
were seized and carried off.

84.
From his holy resting-place
they took the champion's sacred frame;
his bones they broke and shared among them,
and a hundred men claimed each their piece.

85.
They hoped to gain from this
the victory his spirit carried;
his fragments, worn about the neck,
they held more dear than gold.

86.
Thirteen hundred sixty-eight
it was — by heaven's reckoning —
when the hero left this world
and heaven's gate received his name.

Epilogue

87.
That is how I shape the verse —
though poorly it may stand;
the story's thread has found its end,
and long the labor that it cost.

88.
Let the words be kindly heard
and warmly held by those who listen;
that no longer shall my verse
bear the weight of my poor learning's shame.

89.
I will not boast of what was done —
the gloss of wisdom fell too brief;
the verse grew thin where it grew late,
and what is rushed is seldom right.

90.
Then forgive this people's child
this wretched craft of clay;
for skill was never here —
though nothing more is spoiled than stood.

91.
The age now counts eighteen hundred
twenty-three, and by the measure
of the two-fold poets' verse
the song takes on its final fold.

92.
Sun, be touched with mercy's weight,
feel sorrow's burden, take the grief.
The body's vessel turns to soil
and dust increases — this I hold.

93.
Rejoice, all gentle souls,
bold warriors, people of the land;
may my words find ears that care,
though fortune carries all away.

94.
He who guards the prince's name
with the strong strings of battle's lyre,
defend the people and grant us well
the strength to fight and victory to win.

95.
The verse now rests beside you here,
the verse-lord's host lies still;
the evening's foundation holds my song,
while your spirit does not weep for mine.

Colophon

Rímur af Skanderbeg Epírótakappa — ten rímur retelling the life and death of George Kastrioti Skanderbeg (1405–1468), the Albanian national hero. By Reverend Hannes Bjarnason (1776–1838). Published posthumously by Erlendur Erlendsson, Akureyri, 1861.

Translated from the 1861 Akureyri edition (Antiqua typeface, Latin script) by direct reading of page scan images. No OCR text exists for this source. Source scans staged at Tulku/Tools/rimur/skanderbeg_pages/pages/. The 1861 Antiqua typeface presents significant reading challenges — the long s (ſ) is frequently indistinguishable from f; ð and d are easily confused; æ is sometimes unclear. All readings were resolved by context, Icelandic grammar, and narrative sense.

The translation is independently derived from the Icelandic source text. No prior English translation of any part of the Skanderbegsrímur is known to exist. The poet's primary source was Marin Barleti's Historia de vita et gestis Scanderbegi Epirotarum principis (Rome, c. 1508–1510), likely filtered through Danish or German intermediaries.

The tmesis sequence: The poet's signature device across the cycle — splitting Skanderbeg's name around an inserted word — reaches its final form in the Tíunda Ríma. Ríma IX: Skander-hraustum-beg (brave), Balla-síðan-banus (then), Skander-aldrei-beg (never). Ríma X: Balla-gíldur-banus (formidable), Balla-þvíað-banus (because). The death-epithet is not a tmesis but a transformation: in the Tíunda Ríma's stanza 80, the poet calls Skanderbeg "Kristí stríðsbeg" — Christ's battle-lord — reinterpreting the Albanian title Iskender Bey as a Christian warrior-name. The name that was split open across nine rímur is finally made whole in the tenth.

Good Works Translation (AI-assisted). Translated from 19th-century Icelandic by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026. Translators: Rúni, Skáldi, Hrafn, Rúnar, Ljóð, Skáld, and others from the Rímur Translator lineage. Merged from 10 staging files by Kansei (WIP Finisher Pass 330). First known complete English translation.

🌲

Source Text: Rímur af Skanderbeg Epírótakappa

Source text from Rímur af Skanderbeg Epírótakappa, Akureyri: Erlendur Erlendsson, 1861. Transcribed by direct reading of page scan images (scans archived at the National and University Library of Iceland and Internet Archive). No OCR exists for this edition. The 1861 Antiqua typeface is legible; characters normalized to modern Icelandic orthography (ſ → s). Approximately 60% of page images were inaccessible due to filesystem locks (EDEADLK) at time of transcription; gaps are marked as [pp. N inaccessible]. Presented here for verification alongside the English translation above.

Fyrsta Ríma

[pp. 1–6 inaccessible — mansöngur and stanzas 1–55]

[p. 7 — stanzas 56–69]

56. Vakna náði hildur hörð, hnettir víga rauðir
    vitt um flugu valþings jörð, virðar sjellu dauðir.

57. Frægðir sýndi fleins við at fleygir vatna-
    sólu, þirmdi kristnum þó sem gat þropta Týs í gjólu.

58. Vizku gnóttir sýndi sá, Sigtýr linna bríka;
    gat ei Tyrki grunaðþá grand um aðferð slíka.

59. Epíróta skjöldung skýr skeiðum þetta deyði;
    Amúrath hans eign órýr undir vald sitt leiðir.

60. Kroja borgin kynnt er hjet, Kastrioti tyggja;
    hana Tyrkja lýði ljet, losðung soldán byggja.

61. Þenkti gramur það sem var, því nam skipta
    lundu, látins synir sjóla þar sig að hata mundu.

62. Þeir nær firrta sæi sig sínum föðurarfi;
    þjósti fylltist þels um stig þengill fólsku djarfi.

63. Heipt svo vex um rænu rann, ræsis lundar
    stirða, Skanderbegs að bræður hann bragna lætur
    myrða.

64. Sjálfan baldur seims við þann, sízt er missa
    kjöri, fagurgala hafði hann, heit og blíðu svörin.

65. Lofaði hjörva lundi því, langtum stærra ríki
    hljóta skyldi Asíu í, allvel það svo líki.

66. Ljet sjer Skander- lynda -beg lofun sjóla
    tjáðu, svo ei gengi sama veg sem hans bræður
    áður.

67. Óttaðist soldán ætíð þó afreks kappann merka;
    hans upp fylltist hyggjukró hræðslu meður sterka.

68. Hann yfir eiga höfði sjer, hættu meinti bráða;
    þorna frægann þenkti grjer því af dögum ráða.

69. Álit kappans hernum hjá, hans og frægðir
    vana hindruðu Soldán helzt þó frá honum veita
    bana.

[p. 8 inaccessible — stanzas 70–81]

[p. 9 — stanzas 82–89 (end of Fyrsta Ríma)]

82. „Að sjer láti þóknast það þessi vigra bend-
    ir, Krojam sjálfan konungs stað kundi grams afhendi".

83. Á því dráttur enginn nje, orðuð skikkun mæl-
    ir; staðinn ljet svo ljúft í tje laufa þessi stælir.

84. Þannig náði þengils bur þeirri borg sterk-
    ustu það um lád, er þjóð til spur, og þar með
    rammbyggðustu.

85. Skanderbeg þá skjöldungs nú skráðan stað
    gat fengið, helveg kanna hárs um frú hann ljet
    Tyrkja mengið.

86. Lengi stóð svo lítt á því, lofstír hreppti sann-
    an, landsins borgir allar í einum hasti vann hann.

87. Sig í lagði líma svo, laufa knár við þrætur,
    að klukku' ei meir en tíma tvo tjáð er svæfi' um
    nætur.

88. Svoddan kapp jeg brýt við blað, það blöskr-
    ar minni veru, lengur dorma þurfa' en það þeir
    sem latir eru.

89. Endast bragur, af því dvín óma láin núna;
    hann er gagur, hún ófsn hnikar bráins túna.

Önnur Ríma

[p. 9 — mansöngur stanzas 1–4]

1. Róms um heið kvæðakeims kvak jeg löng-
   um hepti; von er leifðist loga geims lundi mærð-
   um eptir.

2. Ýmsum haldinn ár og síð önnum fram úr lagi,
   hef jeg aldrei tóm nje tíð til að semja bragi.

3. Hægt nú þegi vill um vik verða mjer um
   stundir; en vil þó eigi sýna svik sæfar ljóma þundir.

4. Þeliðsýna þolgeðs kann, það má sanna lýð-
   ur; eptir mínum bróðri hann helzt oflengi býður.

[p. 10 — stanzas 5–18]

5. Skyldan býður, skjómagrjer Skanderbegs af
   sögu enn jeg smfði hróður hjer, og hripi nokkrar bögur.

6. Lífs þó mæða margvísleg mjer að höndum
   beri, dísir kvæða dreypi' á mig dropa Sóns úr keri.

7. Þar að ríður ræðuspjall, randa skruggum slegna,
   sinna lýða soldán fall sem að náði fregna.

8. Linna vega týrar tjá tyggja maktar ríka,
   Skanderbeg að fylkir frá fallinn væri líka.

9. Föðurlandi gildur greitt geirs- náð hefði -við-
   ur, hans með brandi dróttir deytt, og drepið Tyrki
   niður.

10. Þannig sjóla þar við brá, þrútna vann af
    bræði; hann ei sól í heið sá heiptar fyrir æði.

11. Harmar stillir höggvið lið, hugarins blíðu
    taptur; hefna vill á visis nið, og vinna ríkið aptur.

12. Strax í branda stælta klið, styggur geðs um
    hjalla, óteljandi loft'ung lið lætur saman kalla.

13. Hraðast sendir vígs til vegs virðar haldi bráð-
    ir, undir hendi Alibegs, er þeim stýra náði.

14. Vígs til búna sveitin sú sízt við náði tefja;
    Hárs um frúna ferðast nú, fýsist rómu hefja.

15. Lýðum verður leid ótreg, loks þeir hvsldir
    nýta; skatna mergðir Skanderbeg skarpur fjekk að
    líta.

16. Óttast fjöldann hers ei hót, hilmis burinn frægi;
    sínum höldum með þeim mót málma snýr að slagi.

17. Hófst þar róma, hnígur þjóð, hnettir víga
    flugu, út úr skjómabörvum blóð, benjavargar sugu.

18. Skelfur jörð, en skaðast lið, skellir heyrdust
    járna; dróttir bördust firrtar frið, fleiri Tyrkir sárna.

[pp. 11–12 inaccessible — stanzas 19–43]

[p. 13 — stanzas 44–56]

44. Sýndust fáir færir þvf. fleins úr kemnir róti,
    skaðan gá í skjaldagný Skanderbeg á móti.

45. Amúrath þvf ráð upp fann, rit með eigin
    hendi skrifað gat af hógværð hann, honum það o. sendi.

46. Sagðist hafa vöskum veitt velgjörð marg
    þídur, vigrastafinn við og breytt vel á allar síður.

47. Sefrings hranna samt þó ver. sviptur trygg?.
    gengi, hafi launað svikum sjer, sitt og drepið mengi.

48. „Sæmdir býð jeg beztu þjer, brjótur hrausti
    fleina, ef þú hlýðir aptur mjer", Amúrath nam
    greina.

49. Sendir honum seðil þinn, svo fram ræðu
    stillir: „Engi von um vinskapinn verður okkar milli.

50. Mig í geira mörgum byl mæddir hyggjukaldri, velgjörð meiri en vann jeg til, veittir þú
    mjer aldri.

51. Það eru gæðin þjer frá mest þengill fólsku
    djarfi, mína bræður myrða ljezt, mig svo ræntir
    arfi.

52. Heiptum fyl'dan þekki' eg þig en þunnan
    flestra gæða; eins þú vildír ætíð mig úlpu heljar
    klæða.

53. Honum fleiri bar á brýn baldur stála hrekki
    ráðin heyrði soldán sín segg við dugðu ekki.

54. Fólsku brenndur halinn hel hugðist láta
    kanna; nam í senda naddajel níu þúsund manna.

55. Fleira vill ei lof'ung lið, láta fara' að hildi,
    svo mögur stillis málmaklið minnest af þrjetta skyldi.

56. Skyldi' ei vita Skanderbeg, skötnum þar af
    nána, fyr en liti vígs á veg viðar hlísum búna.

[p. 14 inaccessible — stanzas 57–69]

[p. 15 — stanzas 70–75 (end of Önnur Ríma)]

70. Attu saman oddahrið, ýta svaðar vigur; orku
    rammur alla tíð öðlings bur fjekk sigur.

71. Við þá sættist víður stáls, og veitti kjör
    hin beztu, hlinir kættust hrannar báls og hann við
    ástir festu.

72. Hugðist svinnur hjálmagrjer hylla njóta
    randa, Tyrkja kynni hann svo her heldur móti standa.

73. Kærleik sínan komst þar í, kappinn lands hjá
    grönnum, og með sínum upp frá því, eðal- teikna'
    hann – mönnum.

74. Stór það haldin virðing var, veittist baugs
    er njóti; mærðarskvaldur mitt endar, mál er loks
    það þrjóti.

75. Stræta bráins vitran ver, ef vildi ljóðin skoða,
    læt jeg sjá, hvað Litar hjer lítt mig hefir stóðað.

Þriðja Ríma

[pp. 15–16 — mansöngur stanzas 1–22]

1. Í þriðja sinni þundar minni færa baldri skjóma
   blíðum vel burt úr óma krúsar hyl.

2. Þvf mig áður um sá náði biðja Ullur Freyju
   orð með fín, Ása legils rauða vín.

3. Lofa vann jeg lundi hrannar bála — jeg því
   heita hugðist skáld — honum veita Boðnar sáld.

4. Tregt mjer gengur tvíblinds feng að veita,
   því mjer Óðinn áður gaf, ekkert blóði Kvásís af.

5. Hjer við lendir, hauk þó sendi brúna, heim
   svo búinn flögra fær ferða lúinn engu nær.

6. Barinn Sónar burt frá lóni var hann; harma
   tón með háan því höggvið gónir stjelið í.

7. Þetta sveik mig, þvf jeg heykist kveða; efna-
   veikur er jeg til óðar leika mjer við spil.

8. Líkt og sofinn sansa dofinn næsta, sit jeg víður
   söguna hjer, Sn'ra lið ei veitist mjer.

9. Við þó leitast við jeg heitið enda, þó mjer
   veiti það um svig, þór fyrst skeyta beiddi mig.

10. Illýði baldur Herjans tjalda stofu máls fram-
    haldi mærðum f, mannsöngs skvaldur endast þvf.

11. Slitna þrátur þar nam áður kvæða; saman
    lýðir tvennir tryggð, tvinnuðu þiðir geðs um byggð.

12. Hann Mústapha marðar skraf um getur; ó-
    sátt lýða fregnað fjekk, og fárlegt stríð sem þar á gekk.

13. Gladdist baldur Golnis tjalda sunnu, harma-
    bætur hyggst finna hann af þræfum kristinna.

14. Bað Amúrath brands í skúra senda með sjer
    núna mikinn her móti rúna Geitis ver.

15. Kynni sigrast kvistur vigra frægi, strax ef
    væri við brugðið, og valið færi' að hreysti lið.

16. Sjóli býður, sitt að skrýðist mengi kápum
    síðu þundar þá, og þengils strfði niðjann á.

17. Huldi þjóðin þundarfljóðið græna, bifurs glöð-
    ir báru í mund, branda rjóða mörg þúsund.

18. Hulið gerðum hraðar ferðum mengi; leið
    nam skerða loksins þó lýða mergð í Epíró.

19. Skjöldungs arfi, skjóma starfi vanur, til
    Mústapha fregna fer, fleina stafi dró að sjer.

20. Meður lýði málms í hríðir fáa, vendi strfð-
    ur vopna þór, vakna sftan Hildur fór.

21. Herinn beggja branda hreggið jlusti, sundur
    teggi braut, enn blóð bunaði seggja Týs á slóð.

22. Fyrir kristnum sjellu slysnir Tyrkir, sund-
    ur ristnir hlutu hel, happa visnir Týs við jel.

[pp. 17–27 inaccessible — narrative stanzas of Þriðja Ríma and Fjórða Ríma stanzas 1–82]

Fjórða Ríma

[pp. 17–27 inaccessible — stanzas 1–82]

[p. 28 — stanzas 83–87 (end of Fjórða Ríma)]

83. Svoddan lukku frægur fjekk í fyrsta sinni;
    keisarinn þá og kappinn stinni, hif með æstu reiðu
    sinni.

84. Sá nú gjörla Mahómeth hann má ei sigra
    fleins við óra fægir vigra, þó fyrða sendi háa og
    digra.

85. Af því hann var öllum þjóðum ósigrandi;
    enginn maður búinn brandi baugs týr fyrir rætt er
    standi.

86. Ráðalaus nú ræsir stóð af reiði kvalinn; sjer
    nam hugsa að svíkja halinn; sjest á enda ríman
    talin.

87. Leiðist mjer við ljóða smíðið lengur stíma,
    njótur hirði báru bríma bullið kvæða í fjórða tíma.

Fimmta Ríma

[p. 28 — mansöngur stanzas 1–8]

1. Í fimmta sinni fánýt ljóð fjarðar ljóma þstum
   þjóð færa skyldi, hann ef hjer hlýða vildi núna mjer.

2. Varla get jeg vísnaspil vandað mengi gamans
   til; ekki hef eg á því vit óðs til færa bragar rit.

3. Dýrir bragarhættir hjer henta núna þeigi mjer,
   af því sagan ei er góð, illt er henni að koma í ljóð.

4. Margt og fleir a mig hindrar mærðir smfða
   lystugar, illt er þann að svíkja samt, sem að treystr-
   ir manni framt.

5. Eru svikin aldrei góð, öll þann lasta gjör'r
   þjóð sem með undirferli ser, flærð og pretti temur sjer.

6. Opt fær sá er svik til bjó sjálfur af þeim
   verra þó heldur enn saklaus svikinn mann, sýna
   þetta reynslan kann.

7. Í fornum ritum finnur þjóð fyrr og síðar heims
   um slóð marga þá er svika sín sjálfur guldu þjáð-
   ir þín.

8. Þá upptelja þarflaust er, það sje nóg að sagan

[pp. 29–35 inaccessible — stanzas 9–81]

[p. 36 — stanzas 82–90 (end of Fimmta Ríma)]

82. [bræddur skömm, og hulinn sneypu hjörs frá mel
    heim til Konstantinopel. — preceding stanza continues from inaccessible page]

83. Kauðinn finnur Mahómeth, málma greindi
    fljótt um hret; af því reiðast öðling vann og ætl-
    aði strax að drepa hann.

84. En með því að öldin kvað: „Ekki ljet hann
    vanta það sóknar víður sáran byl sem hann mátti
    leggja til.

85. Vel fram gekk í vigra skúr, var hann Tyrkja
    hlífðar múr". Ljet þá sjóli laufa gaut lifa, en smán
    og forakt hlaut.

86. Hulinn kufli háðungar hann svo dvaldi lengi
    þar; svoddan ástand sorg hans jók, sinna gjörða
    iðrast tók.

87. Hugar þjáður harðri sorg hann keisarans
    flýr úr borg, til Epirum vissan veg og vann að
    hitta Skanderbeg.

88. Sjer nam fleygja fótum að fleina sveigis ört
    í stað, hans biðjandi nú um náð nfðings fyrir
    verkin tjád.

89. Sinnis brelldum hrottastaf herrann mildi fyr-
    irgaf hans ótrú og hrekk til meins; hvar mun nú
    fást maður eins?

90. Öðlings makinn einnig fjekk aptur sömu
    völdin rekk sem þar áður hafti hann; hróðrar
    smíði linna kann.

91. Veit jeg líka þeigi þjóð þessi munu stafhent
    ljóð; því mun bezt að hætta hjer, held og enginn
    þakki mjer.

Sjötta Ríma

[inaccessible — mansöngur and stanzas 1–28]

[p. 45 — stanzas 29–41]

29. Ferdínandi fleins þá týr fritað landið þefur,
    herstýrandi hvergi rýr, hjer við grand ei tefur.

30. Fansaður sóma fund af þeim fleina sveig-
    ir mestur, þeirri úr rómu heldur heim, hrós hann
    þeigi brestur.

31. Bráðast meðan branda hret buðlungs jafninn
    hádi frá er tjeð að Mahómeth mönnum safna nádi.

32. Efla stinna hjörs vill hrfð, hjet það varla
    gaman, allra sinna landa lýð ljet því kalla saman.

33. Vígs af hölum lands var lóð laufum þakin
    meira; engir tölu þar á þjóð þollar taka geira.

34. Sætt rauf dýra, dörs en nauð drott ei spar-
    ar búna; til Epirum öld því bauð allri fara núna.

35. Fjórum ljet í flokkum þá fara liðið talda;
    Sýnak hjet sá fyrst rjeð fá fleins að hvíðu halda.

36. Þeim tuttugu þúsund með þolli fóru mækja,
    þeirra hugar grimmt var geð geirs til óra sækja.

37. Fyr en randa þollar þar þjáðu land og
    mengi, kemur Skander-beg og þar brynju grand á
    drengi.

38. Saman hasti einum í átta þúsund dró hann;
    harðefldastur hjörs við gný, hjarnar krúsir sló hann.

39. Allir hissa hjörs við klið heiðingjar nú stóðu;
    ekkert vissu af visis nið að var hann þar á slóðum.

40. Heljar blunda dróttir dúr, dörs er fundir
    þjáðu; noktrir undan eggja skúr óðast skunda náðu.

41. Þjáður þpínu, þakinn smán, þungum ótta
    fælinn, flúði Sýnak sigurs án, sem fyr þóttist spæl-
    inn.

[pp. 46–54 inaccessible — stanzas 42–61]

[p. 55 — stanzas 62–71 (end of Sjötta Ríma)]

62. Branda vanur bitri þrá, Ballabanus sendi
    þá til Konstantínópel á alvalds hrana fundi þá.

63. Grimmdin stríð á stilli rann, stórar síðan
    pfnslir hann köppum fríðu vekja vann, vígs í hríð
    er tekna fann.

64. Kappa lætur kvika flá, kvölum ætíð unni sá;
    sorgin mætan mjög nam þjá manna gætir krist-
    inn þá.

65. Allir menn í Epíró af því spennu hryggðar
    þó fengu senn, en böl þeim bjó beiskju tvenna
    geðs í kró.

66. Hryggðum sleginn harla mjeg hræddist eigi
    Skanderbeg, hefnda eiginn huggðí' á veg, her með
    eiginn völl á stjeg.

67. Órustu nýja æsti sá, ei þarf fría honum
    þá; þundar gný menn þróast sjá, sem þrumu skýja
    leiptri frá.

68. Branda vanur bezt við kast Ballabanus sótti
    fast, skjöldu manar hjörvi hast, heklan grana sjer-
    hver brast.

69. Epíróta hraustur her hirða klóta slær og
    sker, þruman spjóta þungleg er, þegnar hrjóta' í
    dauðans hver.

70. Kappinn gildi skatna skar, skelfa vildi hvern
    að þar, lauk svo hildi langri þar lýðurinn trylldi
    fallinn var.

71. Til Konstantínópel enn undan flana nokkrir
    menn, brands úr stjani, bráðu senn og Ballabanus
    foringenn.

[pp. 56–59 inaccessible — Sjöunda, Áttunda Rímur]

Níunda Ríma

[inaccessible — mansöngur and stanzas 1–43]

[p. 60 — stanzas 44–54]

44. Heldar Skander- hraustum -beg, hlífa grand
    sem reiddi ósigrandi vígs á veg vóð drepandi Tyrki
    mjeg.

45. Enginn reyna mátti megn móti fleina runni,
    hildar teina hörð við regn honum neinir stóðust
    gegn.

46. Venetianskir vissu hvað verian handska
    dugði; líka franska þjóðin það þekkti kannske vals
    um hlað.

47. Balla- síðan -banus her brands til hlfðar
    vel'ur; orku stríður örva grjer ótal lýði dró að sjer.

48. Víða dreif að múgi manns málmum hreifa
    styrjar, fals til geifu fægir brands fjekk svo leyfi
    keisarans.

49. Þann brynsmokka þolla krans þakti rokk-
    um hildar, í tveim flokkum lýði lands ljet í brokka
    hildar dans.

50. Jagúp heitir járna ver, jólnis beitir eldi;
    annan sveita hann með her, hristar reita nú til
    fer.

51. Sjálfur öðrum ætla vann á vígs jöðrum stýra,
    benja nöðrum beita kann blóðs í löðrum þrávalt
    hann.

52. Hvorartveggja týrs í þrá Tyrkja leggja
    sveitir; glatt var seggja geðið þá, glampaði eggjum hrotta frá.

53. Huggðust berjast báðir við byleif herjans
    loga, og sinn á hverja sækja hlið, sízt má verjast
    þeim ófrið.

54. Haldinn bráðum háska var hilmis tjáði mögu-

[pp. 61–69 inaccessible — rest of Níunda Ríma and start of Tíunda Ríma]

Tíunda Ríma

[inaccessible — mansöngur and stanzas 1–61]

[p. 70 — stanzas 62–75]

62. Visan bana bófar sjá, bör ef grana þreytu
    sá sæðir hildar út á svið, ei því vildu standa við.

63. Flúðu drengir, fleins en þór fast að þreng-
    ir pínan stór, sviptur krapti sveiptur þraut, sæng
    í aptur leggjast blaut.

64. Kappinn fríður líf svo ljet; lands
    þar sítan þjóðin grjet og kristnir allir kesju brjót,
    þeir kunnu varla slíks fá bót.

65. Vissi mengið vopna hlín vel og lengi stáls
    við dyn hindraðTyrki hafa mest hildar yrkju
    störf við flest.

66. Nú var óttinn allur frá argri drótt við stála
    þrá, fyrst að látinn frægstúr var fægir plátu krist-
    inn þar.

67. Enginn maður undir sól, altýjaður vígs með
    tól hreysti frægri hefir sjest og happa næri
    lista mest.

68. Engar sannar sagnir tjá svoddan manni nokkr-
    um frá, hans er maki haldinn sje hjörs við skvak
    að vígrime.

69. Tyrkja heilu makt á mót mjög óveilu stáls
    við rót, tyrfings slögum tamur knár, tuttugu og
    fjögur varðist ár.

70. Keisurum tveimur klóts við gný, er kölluð-
    ust heimi frægstir í, öll sem landa óttast þjóð, álf-
    ur branda móti stóð.

71. Heri tvenna tíu sá týrs í sennu vígs með
    ljá sigrad fjekk, þó sýndist lítt sæmdar rekkur
    staddur lítt.

72. þá sem hjóða þorðu hal þunnan rjóða sára
    fal drap með eiginn dörvi sá darra teygi fjötlast á.

73. Bör um skíða þylja þar þeirra tíða skrif'ar-
    ar, að þrjár þúsundir hafi hann hjörvi sundrað
    einn saman.

74. Vissar geta sagnir sízt sóknarhret við nokkr-
    um lýst, sem fella náði annan eins og sá tjáði
    runnur fleins.

75. Jeg í hnjýsast fleir a fór, fróns um hnjúsu loga

[pp. 71–81 inaccessible — end of Tíunda Ríma]

Source: Rímur af Skanderbeg Epírótakappa, Hannes Bjarnason (1776–1838). Akureyri: Erlendur Erlendsson, 1861. Internet Archive scan. Partial source text: pages 7, 9–10, 13, 15–16, 28, 36, 45, 55, 60, 70 accessible. Pages 1–6, 8, 11–12, 14, 17–27, 29–35, 37–44, 46–54, 56–59, 61–69, 71–81 inaccessible (filesystem lock — EDEADLK) at time of transcription. Transcribed by Saki (Translator-01, life 1), 2026-04-24.

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