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Rune Poem           
Sinmora’s spouse sees sparks fly out
that flicker in Freki’s eyes!
Audumla suckles and soon shapes ice
and her udders feed Ymir!
Thor’s foes clamour in a throng of din;
hard thanes of Utgarth sow thorns!
Oski’s mead floods over mouth rocks of the wise,
the ale of the eagle’s beak!
Reckoning right counsel on the right road,
rumbling the wagon rolls!
Cunning dark elves’ craft is plied;
hearth’s dancer in thrall to dwarves!
To give your word is worthless if broken.
Glory in fire-offerings the Gods!
Small waving flags, wild flowers in meadows;
a pasture’s peace brings joy!
The hard rain stings when it hits the face
and seeds of cold are sown!
Need-fire fends off the fetters of cold;
a nipped nose is numb no more!
The gand of frost giants; fangs that are still;
spear heads for ogres of ice!
The height of the year when the yield is home,
Sif’s sword a fair host fells!
The silent striker Ullr’s staff spits forth.
Baneful the yew bough’s berries!
The weaving of Wyrd, it will not unpick;
the dice-cup’s doom we draw!
Dazzling white the swan’s wings, that whistle on high.
Watchful is the rainbow’s warden!
Moon’s sister dips then soars again.
Before evening the elf-disc is red.
Through toil and venom ‘til victory is speared;
the tent-pole towers to heaven!
Northernmost branch bearer, beauty most holy,
gracing your mother the mountain!
In a harness of the heart pull horses together;
ever nuzzling their noses.
Two ravens clear make the minds of the wise,
of hallowed mickle men!

The brimming land of the Lord of Noatun
leaves oft a harvest of herrings!
In spring the boar pulls the spouse of Gerth,
the well-loved antler wielder!
At daybreak or before dusk draws down Jorth’s mother
fells are flooded in light.
Oak-garthed island, estate of the folk;
the song of the sword won a homeland!
 © P.D. Brown       The Storyteller´s Homepage 


Poetic form: Ljóđaháttr (Song Meter)

Image: runic nights by ~pieterjansens: This work is licensed under
a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 License.

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