Gudrún

    1    

›O mother, hear me!

Mirth is darkened,

dreams have troubled me,

dreams of boding.‹

Grímhild 

›Dreams come most oft

in dwindling moon,

or weather changing.

Of woe think not!‹

Gudrún

    2    

›No wind, nor wraith

of waking thought –

a hart we hunted

over hill and valley;

all would take him,

’twas I caught him:

his hide was golden,

his horns towering.

    3    

A woman wildly

on the wind riding

with a shaft stung him,

shooting pierced him;

at my knees he fell

in night of woe,

my heart too heavy

might I hardly bear.

    4    

A wolf they gave me

for woe’s comfort;

in my brethren’s blood

he bathed me red.

Dreams have vexed me,

direst boding,

not wind or weather

or waning moon.‹

Grímhild

    5    

›Dreams oft token

the dark by light,

good by evil,

Gudrún daughter!

Lift up thine eyes

eager shining!

Green lie the lands

round Gjúki’s house.‹

Gudrún

    6    

›The roads run green

to the Rhine-water!

Who rides here lone,

arrayed for war?

His helm is high,

his horse fleeting,

his shield is shining

with sheen of gold!‹

    7    

Thus Gudrún gazed,

Gjúki’s daughter,

from wall and window

in wonder looking.

Thus Sigurd rode,

seed of Völsung,

into Gjúki’s courts

gleaming-harnessed.

    8    

There Gjúki dwelt

his gold dealing

in Niflung land,

the Niflung lord.

Gunnar and Högni

were Gjúki’s sons,

mighty princes;

men them hearkened.

    9    

There Grímhild dwelt,

guileful in counsel,

grimhearted queen

grey with wisdom,

with lore of leechcraft,

lore of poison,

with chill enchantment

and with changing spells.

    10    

As ravens dark

were those raven-friends;

fair their faces,

fierce their glances.

With Huns they waged

hate and warfare,

gold ever gathering

in great dungeons.

    11    

Silent they sat

when Sigurd entered

Gunnar greeting,

Gjúki hailing.

Gjúki 

›Who comes unbidden

in battle’s harness,

helm and hauberk,

to halls of mine?‹

Sigurd

    12    

›The son of Sigmund,

Sigurd Völsung,

a king’s son cometh

to kingly house.

Fame of Niflungs

far is rumoured,

not yet hath faded

fame of Völsung.‹

    13    

There swift for Sigurd

seat was ordered;

the feast grew fair,

folk were mirthful.

There Gunnar grasped

his golden harp;

while songs he sang

silence fell there.

Of these

    14    

By mighty Mirkwood

things sang 

on the marches of the East

Gunnar 

the great Goth-kings

in glory ruled.

By Danpar-banks

was dread warfare

with the hosts of Hunland,

horsemen countless.

    15    

Horsemen countless

hastened westward;

the Borgund lords

met Budli’s host.

In Budli’s brother

their blades reddened

the glad Gjúkings,

gold despoiling.

Of these

    16    

Then Sigurd seized

things sang 

the sounding harp;

Sigurd 

hushed they hearkened

in the hall listening.

The waste lay withered

wide and empty;

forth came Fáfnir,

fire around him.

    17    

Dark hung the doors

on deep timbers;

gold piled on gold

there glittered wanly.

The hoard was plundered,

helm was lifted,

and Grani greyfell

grievous burdened.

    18    

High Hindarfell,

hedged with lightning,

mountain mighty

from mists uprose.

Brynhild wakened,

bright her splendour –

song fell silent,

and Sigurd ended.

    19    

By Gjúki’s chair

Grímhild hearkened,

of Gudrún thinking

and the golden hoard.

Gunnar and Högni

gladly bade him

in league and love

long to dwell there.

*

    20    

The Borgund lords

their battle furnished;

banners were broidered,

blades were sharpened.

White shone hauberks,

helms were burnished;

under horses’ hooves

Hunland trembled.

    21    

Grim was Gunnar

on Goti riding;

under haughty Högni

Hölkvir strode;

but fleeter was Grani,

foal of Sleipnir;

flamed all before

the fire of Sigurd.

    22    

Foes were vanquished,

fields were wasted,

grimly garnered

Gram the harvest.

Where Gjúkings rode

glory won they,

ever glory Sigurd

greater conquered.

    23    

Wide waxed their realm

in world of old;

Dane-king they slew,

doughty princes.

Dread fell on folk;

doom they wielded;

victory rode ever

with the Völsung lord.

    24    

High they honoured him,

in heart loved him,

Hun-gold gave him

in the hall sitting.

But his heart remembered

house of Völsung,

and Sigmund slain

on sands afar.

    25    

A host he gathered,

help of Gjúkings;

to the sea he rode

and sails hoisted.

His ship was shining

with shields and mail;

it was dragon-headed,

dire and golden.

    26    

As fire and tempest

to his father’s land

came Sigurd sailing;

the sand was reddened.

Clashed the cloven

casque and hauberk;

shields were splintered,

shorn was corslet.

    27    

Men learned there lived yet

line of Völsung!

Now of Völsung land

was a Völsung lord.

But the house once high

was hollow, roofless;

the limbs were rotten

of their leafy tree.

    28    

A man there walked

mantled darkly,

his beard was flowing,

and blind his eye:

Grímnir 

›Grímnir hails thee,

glorious Völsung!

Far hence hath flown

the fate of Sigurd.

    29    

Where Sigmund drew

sword of Grímnir,

Gram shall shine not.

Go thou, Völsung!

Now king thou art

of kings begotten,

a bride calls thee

over billowing seas.‹

*

    30    

His fleet went forth

with flaming sails;

goldladen ships

came glad to shore.

Steeds went striding,

stonefire glinted,

horns were sounded;

home rode Sigurd.

    31    

A feast they fashioned,

far proclaimed it,

their highroofed halls

hung with splendour;

boards and beakers,

benches, gilded;

mead poured and ale

from morn to eve.

    32    

A king sat Sigurd:

carven silver,

raiment gleaming,

rings and goblets,

dear things dealt he,

doughty-handed,

his friends enriching,

fame upraising.

    33    

(There spake Grímhild

to Gjúki’s ear:)

Grímhild 

›How long shall last

league unbounden?

Here is worthiest lord

of world’s renown!

Were a daughter offered,

he would dwell for ever,

our strength in strife,

standing bulwark.‹

Gjúki

    34    

›The gifts of kings

are gold and silver;

their daughters fair

are dearly wooed!‹

Grímhild 

›Gifts oft are given

to greedy hand;

wives oft are wooed

by worthless men!‹

    35    

Sigurd sat silent;

the singing heard not

but in heart Brynhild

bright with splendour:

›A queen was I once,

and a king shall wed.‹

Soon, thought he, soon

I will seek my own.

*

    36    

Grímhild went forth

to guarded bower;

deep horn she filled

that was darkly written.

She drink of power

dreadly blended;

it had strength of stone,

it was stained with blood.

Grímhild

    37    

›Hail, guest and king!

Good go with thee!

Drink now deeply

dear love’s token!

A father hast thou found,

and fond mother,

brothers sit nigh thee.

O bravest, hail!‹

    38    

Deep drank Sigurd,

drained it laughing,

then sat unsmiling,

the singing heard not.

In came Gudrún

golden-lovely,

as moon uprising

marvellous shining.

    39    

In came Gudrún

gleaming-robéd,

as flower unfolded

fair at morning.

Sigurd wondered,

silent gazing;

his mind was glamoured,

mood confounded.

*