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~ By Courtesy of Others ~

 

A Crop Song, for Sif and Thor

All through this summer's run,
We children of the Sun
See gold wheat sway,
And we shall pray
For a rich harvest won.

May Sif, Thor's golden bride,
Bring us her fertile tide;
Her gilded bloom
We may consume,
New strenght to us supplied.

This god and goddess great,
Man's friend and gentle mate,
Let's honor now;
Their sacred plow
Brings food to our plate.

Let's sing a song of praise,
And thankful voices raise,
Daughters of Sif,
For every sheaf
We gained in summer days.

O sons of Thor, rejoice
In merry solstice joys!
Thor's goats race by
Through yonder sky
Amidst his thunder's noise.

And after days all warm
Come wind and rain and storm,
Cold days draw near;
To bread and beer
Our harvest's now transformed.

So in the winter's reign,
To those who gave us grain,
To Thor and Sif
Bring gift for gift--
May plenty come again!

Original version: TwaRavenMotifs

This version, with author's permission, by Michaela Macha

 

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