"Vítt es orpit

fyr valfalli

rifs reiðiský.

Rignir blóði.

Nú es fyr geirum

grár upp kominn

vefr, verþjóðar

sás vinur fylla

rauðum vefti

Randvés bana."

"See! warp is stretched

For warriors' fall,

Lo! weft in loom

Tis wet with blood;

Now fight foreboding,

Neath friends swift fingers,

Our gray woof waxeth

With war's alarms,

Our warp bloodred,

Our weft corseblue."

"Sjá es orpinn vefr

ýta þörmum

ok harðkléaðr

höfðum manna.

Eru dreyrrekin

dörr at sköftum

járnvarðr yllir,

en örum hrælaðr.

Skulum slá sverðum

sigrvef þenna."

"This woof is y-woven

With entrails of men,

This warp is hardweighted

With heads of the slain,

Spears blood-besprinkled

For spindles we use,

Our loom ironbound,

And arrows our reels;

With swords for our shuttles

This war-woof we work;

So weave we, weird sisters,

Our warwinning woof."

"Gengr Hildr vefa

ok Hjörþrimul,

Sanngríðr, Svipul

sverðum tognum.

Skaft mun gnesta

skjöldr mun bresta,

mun hjalmgagarr

í hlíf koma."

"Now War-winner walketh

To weave in her turn.

Now Swordswinger steppeth,

Now Swiftstroke, now Storm;

When they speed the shuttle

How spear-heads shall flash!

Shields crash, and helmgnawerö

On harness bite hard!"

"Vindum, vindum

vef Darraðar,

þanns ungr konungr

átti fyrri.

Fram skulum ganga

ok í folk vaða,

þars vinir órir

vápnum skipta."

"Wind we, wind swiftly

Our warwinning woof.

Woof erst for king youthful

Foredoomed as his own,

Forth now we will ride,

Then through the ranks rushing

Be busy where friends

Blows blithe give and take."

"Vindum, vindum

vef Darraðar

ok siklingi

síðan fylgjum.

Þar séa bragna

blóðgar randir

Gunnr ok Göndul,

þærs grami fylgðu."

"Wind we, wind swiftly

Our warwinning woof,

After that let us steadfastly

Stand by the brave king;

Then men shall mark mournful

Their shields red with gore,

How Swordstroke and Spearthrust

Stood stout by the prince."

"Vindum, vindum

vef Darraðar,

þars vé vaða

vígra manna.

Látum eigi

líf hans farask.

Eigu valkyrjur

vals of kosti."

"Wind we, wind swiftly

Our warwinning woof;

When sword-bearing rovers

To banners rush on,

Mind, maidens, we spare not

One life in the fray!

We corse-choosing sisters

Have charge of the slain."

"Þeir munu lýðir

löndum ráða,

es útskaga

áðr of byggðu.

Kveðk ríkjum gram

ráðinn dauða.

Nú es fyr oddum

jarlmaðr hniginn."

"Now new-coming nations

That island shall rule.

Who on outlying headlands

Abode ere the fight;

I say that King mighty

To death now is done,

Now low before spearpoint

That Earl bows his head."

"Ok munu Írar

angr of bíða,

þats aldri mun

ýtum fyrnask.

Nú es vefr ofinn,

en völlr roðinn.

Munu of lönd fara

læspjöll gota."

"Soon over all Ersemen

Sharp sorrow shall fall,

That woe to those warriors

Shall wane nevermore;

Our woof now is woven.

Now battle-field waste,

O'er land and o'er water

War tidings shall leap."

"Nú es ógurligt

umb at lítask,

es deyrug ský

dregr með himni.

Mun loft litat

lýða blóði

es sóknvarðir

syngva kunnu."

"Now surely tis gruesome

To gaze all around,

When bloodred through heaven

Drives cloudrack o'er head;

Air soon shall be deep hued

With dying men's blood

When this our spaedom

Comes speedy to pass."

"Vel kváðum vér

of konung ungan

sighljóða fjölð.

Syngum heilar.

En hinn nemi,

es heyrir á,

geirfljóða hljóð

ok gumum segi."

"So cheerily chant we

Charms for the young king,

Come maidens lift loudly

His warwinning lay;

Let him who now listens

Learn well with his ears,

And gladden brave swordsmen

With bursts of war's song."

"Ríðum hestum

hart út berum

brugðnum sverðum

á braut heðan."

"Now mount we our horses,

Now bare we our brands,

Now haste we hard, maidens,

Hence far, far away."