Guðrúnarhvöt

"A word-strife I learned,

most woeful of all,

A speech from the fullness

of sorrow spoken,

When fierce of heart

her sons to the fight

Did Guthrun whet

with words full grim."

"Why sit ye idle,

why sleep out your lives,

Why grieve ye not

in gladness to speak?

Since Jormunrek

your sister young

Beneath the hoofs

of horses hath trodden,

(White and black

on the battle-way,

Gray, road-wonted,

the steeds of the Goths.)"

"Not like are ye

to Gunnar of yore,

Nor have ye hearts

such as Hogni's was;

Vengeance for her

ye soon would have

If brave ye were

as my brothers of old,

Or hard your hearts

as the Hunnish kings'."

"Then Hamther spake,

the high of heart:

Little the deed

of Hogni didst love,

When Sigurth they wakened

from his sleep;

Thy bed-covers white

were red with blood

Of thy husband, drenched

with gore from his heart."

"Bloody revenge

didst have for thy brothers,

Evil and sore,

when thy sons didst slay;

Else yet might we all

on Jormunrek

Together our sister's

slaying avenge."

"The gear of the Hunnish

kings now give us!

Thou hast whetted us so

to the battle of swords."

"Laughing did Guthrun

go to her chamber,

The helms of the kings

from the cupboards she took,

And mail-coats broad,

to her sons she bore them;

On their horses' backs

the heroes leaped."

Then Hamther spake,

the high of heart:

"Homeward no more

his mother to see

Comes the spear-god,

fallen mid Gothic folk;

One death-draught thou

for us all shalt drink,

For Svanhild then

and thy sons as well."

"Weeping Guthrun,

Gjuki's daughter,

Went sadly before

the gate to sit,

And with tear-stained cheeks

to tell the tale

Of her mighty griefs,

so many in kind."

"Three home-fires knew I,

three hearths I knew,

Home was I brought

by husbands three;

But Sigurth only

of all was dear,

He whom my brothers

brought to his death."

"A greater sorrow

I saw not nor knew,

Yet more it seemed

I must suffer yet

When the princes great

to Atli gave me."

"The brave boys I summoned

to secret speech;

For my woes requital

I might not win

Till off the heads

of the Hniflungs I hewed."

"To the sea I went,

my heart full sore

For the Norns, whose wrath

I would now escape;

But the lofty billows

bore me undrowned,

Till to land I came,

so I longer must live."

"Then to the bed

of old was it better!

Of a king of the folk

a third time I came;

Boys I bore

his heirs to be,

Heirs so young,

the sons of Jonak."

"But round Svanhild

handmaidens sat,

She was dearest ever

of all my children;

So did Svanhild

seem in my hall

As the ray of the sun

is fair to see."

"Gold I gave her

and garments bright,

Ere I let her go

to the Gothic folk;

Of my heavy woes

the hardest it was

When Svanhild's tresses

fair were trodden

In the mire by hoofs

of horses wild."

"The sorest it was

when Sigurth mine

On his couch, of victory

robbed, they killed;

And grimmest of all

when to Gunnar's heart

There crept the bright-hued

crawling snakes.

And keenest of all

when they cut the heart

From the living breast

of the king so brave;"

"Many woes I remember,

*********

Bridle, Sigurth,

thy steed so black,

Hither let run

thy swift-faring horse;

Here there sits not

son or daughter

Who yet to Guthrun

gifts shall give."

"Remember, Sigurth,

what once we said,

When together both

on the bed we sat,

That mightily thou

to me wouldst come

From hell and I

from earth to thee."

"Pile ye up, jarls,

the pyre of oak,

Make it the highest

a hero e'er had;

Let the fire burn

my grief-filled breast,

My sore-pressed heart,

till my sorrows melt."

"May nobles all

less sorrow know,

And less the woes

of women become,

Since the tale of this

lament is told."