Wounded I hung on a wind-swept gallows
For nine long nights,
Pierced by a spear, pledged to Odin,
Offered, myself to myself
The wisest know not from whence spring
The roots of that ancient rood.
They gave me no bread,
They gave me no mead,
I looked down;
With a loud cry
I took up runes;
From that tree I fell.
Nine lays of power
I learned from the famous Bolthor, Bestla' s father:
He poured me a draught of precious mead,
Mixed with magic Odrerir.
Waxed and throve well;
Word from word gave words to me,
Deed from deed gave deeds to me.
Runes you will find, and readable staves,
Very strong staves,
Very stout staves,
Staves that Bolthor stained,
Made by mighty powers,
Graven by the prophetic God.
For the Gods by Odin,
By Dvalin, too, for the Dwarves,
By Asvid for the hateful Giants,
And some I carved myself:
Thund, before man was made, scratched them,
Who rose first, fell thereafter.
[Excerpt from Havamal, part of the Poetic Edda. Translation by W. H. Auden and P. B. Taylor.]
This is my favorite so far!
ReplyDeleteAnd this post with the poem excerpt intertwined with the photos is a work of art in itself. Really reaches out and grabs you.
ReplyDeleteThe Poetic Edda is beautiful piece of work.
Deleteohhh yesss.... Odin is most pleased by this \m/ >_< \m/
ReplyDeleteI hope so!
DeleteIs there a place that I can get pattern?
ReplyDeleteSorry; no. I made it myself with EQ.
DeleteThanks anyway...I'm trying to make one for my son and am having trouble making the runes :)
ReplyDelete