1    

Smoke had faded,

sunk was burning;

windblown ashes

were wafted cold.

As sun setting

had Sigurd passed;

and Brynhild burned

as blazing fire.

    2    

Their bliss was over,

their bale ended;

but Gudrún’s grief

ever grew the more.

Life she hated,

but life took not,

witless wandering

in woods alone.

*

    3    

Atli ariseth

armies wielding;

on the marches of the East

his might waxeth.

Goths he tramples,

gold despoiling,

his horsemen countless

hasten westward.

    4    

He, Budli’s son,

blades remembers

that of Budli’s brother

were the bane of old;

he, gold-greedy,

grimhearted king,

hath heard of the hoard

on the Heath that lay.

    5    

Of Fáfnir’s treasure

fame was rumoured,

that Niflungs held

in Niflung-land;

of Gudrún’s beauty

gleaming-lovely;

of Gjúki aged

to his grave passing.

*

    6    

From mighty Mirkwood

came message darkly:

›Atli ariseth

armies mustering.

Hate awakens,

hosts are arming;

under horses’ hooves

Hunland trembles!‹

    7    

Gunnar spake then

gloomy-hearted:

Gunnar 

›Fierce will the feud be,

fell the onslaught!

With gold and silver

shall his greed be stayed,

with gold and silver

or gleaming swords?‹

    8    

Then spake Högni,

haughty chieftain:

Högni 

›The might of Sigurd

we mourn at last!

Victory rode ever

with the Völsung lord;

now alone will war

our land defend.‹

    9    

Then spake Grímhild

grey with wisdom:

Grímhild 

›Gudrún is fair,

gleaming-lovely –

let us bind him in bonds

as brother wedded,

in Hunland’s queen

our help seeking!‹

    10    

Gudrún they sought,

grieving found her

in woodland house

weaving lonely;

weaving wondrous

webs bright-figured

with woe tangled

and with works of old.

*

    11    

Ódin she wrought

old, blue-mantled;

Loki lightfooted

with locks of flame;

the falls of Andvari

framed of silver,

the gold of Andvari

she gleaming wove.

    12    

The house of Völsung

huge was timbered,

the Tree there tossed

tangled branches.

There Grímnir’s gift

gleaming brandished

Sigmund standing

stern unbending.

    13    

The hall of Siggeir

high was burning

fire-encircled

flame-devouréd.

Signý stood there

Sigmund greeting,

fire about her,

flame behind her.

    14    

Shields of silver

had the ship of Sigmund;

wild the waves were,

wind them twisted.

Sailed there slowly

Sinfjötli’s bier

through stormy seas

steered by Ódin.

    15    

There Regin wrought

by the red embers;

there Gram was hammered

amid gleaming sparks.

High loomed the head

of helméd dragon;

under black belly

there was blink of gold.

    16    

Long lay the shadow

of lone rider

golden-harnessed

Gram brandishing;

sun-bright Sigurd

seed of Völsung,

on Grani riding

into Gjúki’s courts.

*

    17    

Golden weregild

Gunnar brought her,

haughty Högni

humbly bent him.

Gudrún they hailed,

Gunnar and Högni;

head she turned not,

hate still burned her.

    18    

In came Grímhild

guileful-hearted:

Grímhild 

›Dearest daughter

droop no longer!

Burnt is Brynhild,

bale is ended;

life yet shineth,

thou art lovely still!‹

    19    

Gudrún lifted

her grieving eyes,

dimmed with weeping,

dark with mourning.

Dark with wisdom,

deep with purpose

were Grímhild’s eyes

gazing through her.

Grímhild

    20    

›Atli ariseth,

armies wieldeth,

king of Eastland’s

countless peoples.

His queen shall rule

courts of splendour,

over all women else

on earth upraised.‹

Gudrún

    21    

›Of gold were the days,

gold and silver,

silver and golden,

ere Sigurd came.

A maid among maids

in mirth walked I;

only dreams and shadows,

only dreams vexed me.

    22    

A hart I dreamed

high and golden:

now is sped the shaft

and spilled the blood.

A wolf thou gavest me

for woe’s comfort,

in my brethren’s blood

he bathed me red.

    23    

I love them little,

I believe them not,

but my brethren’s blood

is no boot for me.

How shall husband heal me

of harm I bear

in hateful Hunland

who am hopeless now?‹

Grímhild

    24    

›Thy brothers blame not!

Brynhild wrought it,

thy wrong and sorrow –

it rues them sore.

And dreams are but dreams,

or else doom foretell;

yet doom must be dreed,

though dreams foreshow.

    25    

Hungold is bright,

Hunland is wide,

Atli mightiest

of earthly kings.

And gold is healing,

though grieve the heart;

a queen’s bed better

than one cold and bare!‹

Gudrún

    26    

›Why drivest me on

with daunting eyes

dire of purpose,

doom forestalling?

To Sigurd thou gavest me,

to sorrow it turned;

now leave me to rest,

leave thy daughter!‹

Grímhild

    27    

›No rest for the living,

no room for tears,

who with pride and purpose

oppose their fate!

No rest I grant thee!

My redes hearken,

or rue for ever

thou wert wrought on earth!‹

    28    

Dark hung her eyes

daunting Gudrún,

deep and dreadful,

dire with purpose.

For no word she waited,

wisdom knew she;

forth went Grímhild

from Gudrún’s side.

*

    29    

Of Gudrún’s beauty

glad was Atli;

of gold he dreamed him

guarded darkly;

of the serpent’s hoard

that Sigurd left her,

of the wife of Sigurd

of women fairest.

    30    

Bridal drank he

blissful-hearted

to Gudrún pale

in gleaming robes.

Oaths he swore them,

to each her brothers,

and lasting truce,

league of kinship.

    31    

Dark and splendid,

dreadly builded,

and echoing vast

were Atli’s halls.

Kings sat neath him,

countless chieftains,

and Hunnish horsemen

harnessed grimly.

    32    

High sat Gudrún

Hunland’s mistress,

cold lay Gudrún

queen of Hunland.

Her lord loved her,

lovely was she;

laughter she knew not,

yet her limbs were white.

    33    

But longer him lasted

his lust of gold,

the gold he dreamed him

guarded darkly.

The serpent’s treasure

they sent it never,

the Niflungs kept it

in Niflung-land.

    34    

Long he pondered,

till lust swayed him;

woes were wakened

and wars of old.

Long nights lying

he looked on her;

dark nights drowsing

he dreamed of gold.

    35    

Oaths he had uttered,

evil he pondered;

but his heart’s purpose

was hidden under.

Yet words he muttered

in wandering sleep;

Gudrún guessed them,

gloom foreboding.

    36    

A feast he fashioned,

far proclaimed it;

to high-builded halls

his hosts were bidden;

all kith and kindred

called to greet him,

to dealing of rings,

drink and laughter.

*

    37    

On valiant horse

Vingi swiftly,

herald of Hunland,

hasted westward.

To Gunnar came he,

Gjúking mighty,

to halls of Rhineland

high and golden.

    38    

There drank they deep;

dark they eyed him,

Hun-speech hearing

in their hall ringing.

Cold fell his cry

calling loudly

under helm standing

hailing Gunnar.

Vingi

    39    

›Atli hath sent me

on errand speedy,

on horse hasting

through hoar forest.

Gunnar he greeteth,

Gunnar and Högni.

Be blithe he bids you,

to his boon hearken!

    40    

A feast he fashions,

fair he dights it,

all kith and kindred

calls to meet him.

Rings will he deal,

raiment costly,

saddles silverlaid,

and southern purple.

    41    

Shields shall ye choose there

and shirts of mail,

spears smooth-shafted

and splendid helms.

Gifts will he give you,

graven silver,

gold-hilted swords,

and goodly lands.‹

    42    

His head bowed Gunnar

to Högni speaking:

Gunnar 

›What saith Högni?

Doth he hear the summons?

Is not gold that glimmered

on Gnitaheiði

enough for Niflungs?

Need we bounty?

    43    

Is there sword in the East

that my sword matcheth?

Are there helms in Hunland

so high as ours?

Are we lieges of Atli,

lands receiving

from Hun master?

Högni answer!‹

Högni

    44    

›Of Gudrún I think –

grim thoughts awake!

A ring she hath sent me,

a ring only.

Wolf’s hair winds it,

woven round it,

wolves lie in wait

at the way’s ending.‹

Gunnar

    45    

›Yet runes she sends me,

runes of healing,

words well-graven

on wood to read;

fast bids us fare

to feast gladly,

old woes forgetting

and ancient wrong.‹

*

    46    

Gifts gave Gunnar,

guerdon kingly;

wine bade men bring

to weary guest.

Deep there drank they

to day’s ending,

doom they recked not;

din resounded.

    47    

In came Grímhild

grey with wisdom,

the runes she read,

the written tokens.

Her brows darkened

boding evil;

to Gunnar spake she

grave and slowly.

Grímhild

    48    

›These runes I doubt:

they are writ with cunning,

strangely twisted,

stained and darkened.

There were others under,

now overlaid –

if I read them right

they were runes of ill.‹

    49    

Gunnar had drunken,

to his guest turned he:

Gunnar 

›Ye Huns have no wine

such as here runneth!

It irks us to ride

to your ale-quaffing;

guile fills your horns –

Gunnar comes not!‹

    50    

Laughing said Vingi:

Vingi 

›My lord shall I tell

that in courts of Gjúki

no kings are left?

There rules a queen,

a rune-conner;

his weighty words

a woman judgeth?

    51    

I must haste away,

so will hide it not,

that Atli is old,

but Erp is young.

Thy sister’s son

is but seven winters –

strong hands he needs

to steer his realm.

    52    

In Gunnar hoped he

for guide and help,

of his sister’s son

the safe keeper.

He weened ye might wield

his wide kingdom –

ye are fallen afraid,

and fear shadows.‹

    53    

Högni him answered

hard and scornful:

Högni 

›Daring speeches,

and drink-begotten!

Nor hoar nor weary

is here the king,

though queens in Rhineland

be counted wise.

    54    

Yet Atli I heard not

too old for guile,

war to ponder,

or wealth to covet.

And fey saith my thought:

»Far lies the day

ere Erp or Eitill

after Atli rule!«‹

    55    

But loud cried Gunnar

laughing scornful,

deep had he drunken

darkly musing:

Gunnar 

›Let wolves then wield

wealth of Niflungs!

Bears shall harbour

in barren courtyards.

    56    

Winds shall wander

where wine we drank,

but Gunnar will go

Gudrún seeking.

We fast shall follow

thy feet, Vingi!

Our horns shall be heard

Hunland rousing.‹

    57    

(From heavy heart then

Högni answered:)

Högni 

›I go with Gunnar,

though glad I am not.

Oft Grímhild’s redes

we have grimly heard.

We took them ever,

though they turned awry;

truth now she teacheth,

and we trust her not.‹

    58    

Then vowed Vingi

the venom-tonguéd –

oaths he recked not,

the oft forsworn:

Vingi 

›May hell have me

and the high gallows,

may ravens rend me,

if the runes should lie!‹

*

    59    

Niflungs rode forth

from Niflung-land;

fast their journey,

few went with them.

Grímhild stood there

grey and aged,

dark eyes were dimmed

death foreseeing.

    60    

Their word was spoken,

wills were hardened;

fate drove them on,

fey they parted.

None might hinder

near them thronging,

lords nor wisemen;

with a laugh they rode.

    61    

Steeds went striding,

stonefire glinted,

rocks were ringing,

roads resounding.

In hoar forests

harts were startled,

over hill and valley

hooves were beating.

    62    

Over river rowed they

roaring onward;

oars were bending

urged to breaking.

Foam flew from prow,

flashed and sparkled;

at bank unbound

the boats left they.

    63    

In the hoar forest

horns they sounded

Hunland rousing;

hooves were beating.

Golden harness

gleamed and sparkled;

steeds came striding

stung to madness.

*

    64    

From hill upon high

halls they looked on,

walls and watchtowers

wondrous-builded.

They were forest-girdled,

fenced with spearmen;

horses neighed there,

helms were glinting.

    65    

There was clamour in the courts,

cold rang the steel;

shafts were shaken,

shields them answered.

Gates found they barred,

grim doors of iron:

Högni smote them,

hewed them fiercely.

    66    

(Forth came Vingi

the venom-tonguéd:)

Vingi 

›Ye need not to knock,

for known your coming!

The greeting is prepared –

the gallows waits you.

The hungry eagle,

the hoary wolf,

the ravens are ready

to rend your flesh!‹

Högni

    67    

›Heralds were holy –

but unhallowed liar,

thou shalt hang the first,

and hell take thee!‹

From the oak-branches

with arms corded

they hung him high

in the Huns’ faces.

    68    

Huns loud clamoured,

hate was kindled;

forth rushed they fell,

fierce the onslaught.

In battle blended

Budlungs, Niflungs;

blades were brandished,

burst were helmets.

    69    

Back they beat them

broken-harnessed;

to the doors they drove them –

din was in the gates.

In leaped Högni,

held the gateway,

hewed two-handed,

hurled them backward.

    70    

The few and fearless

as a fire entered,

as roaring flame,

wrath devouring.

Wolves sprang behind,

the ways were reddened,

the walls echoed,

wailing filled them.

    71    

Steep, stone-builded,

the stair arose

to dark doorways

dreadly timbered.

There Högni halted,

hailed them loudly:

Högni 

›Forth, forth! O friends,

the feast begins!‹

    72    

Out came Atli,

anger-clouded:

Atli 

›Welcome, my vassals!

Ye have well begun it.

Death the drink here,

doom the ending,

ropes here the rings –

if ransom fail.

    73    

That gold give me

that is Gudrún’s right,

that Sigurd conquered,

the serpent’s treasure!‹

Högni laughed then,

on his hilts leaning;

Gunnar glowering

grimly answered.

Gunnar

    74    

›No gold from Gunnar

shalt thou get for ever!

Life canst thou take

at latest end.

Dear wilt thou buy it

in dread barter

of lords and lieges,

lives uncounted!‹

Atli

    75    

›Fools the Niflungs,

feud-forgetful;

foul-stained their hands

with friend-murder.

Gudrún’s husband

for Gudrún’s wrong

a grim vengeance

will gladly wreak.‹

Gunnar

    76    

›Here Gudrún spake not!

Golden weregild

she looks nor longs for –

the lust is thine!‹

Högni 

›For atonement now

time is over!

Words we need not,

war hath entered!‹

    77    

Horns they sounded –

hall-walls echoed –

strode the stairway;

stern their onslaught.

The stones they stained

with streaming blood;

snaketonguéd arrows

sang about them.

    78    

Doors clanged backward,

din resounded:

Hunland’s champions

hurled upon them.

Hard were handstrokes,

hewn were corslets,

as on hundred anvils

were hammers ringing.

*

    79    

In hall sat Gudrún

at heart weary,

from mood to mood

her mind wavered.

The din she hearkened,

deadly crying,

as back were beaten

the Borgund-lords.

Gudrún

    80    

›Little I love them,

long I hated!

A wolf they gave me

for woe’s comfort.

Yet the wolf rends them,

and woe is me!

Woe worth the hour

that of womb I came!‹

    81    

Her hands she wrung

on high standing,

loud called she clear

to lieges there:

Gudrún 

›If any honour me

in these evil halls,

let them hold their hands

from this hell-labour!

    82    

Who would love requite,

who would lies disown,

who remember misery

by these masters wrought,

arm now! arm now!

aid the fearless

betrayed and trapped

by this troll-people!‹

    83    

Atli sat there,

anger burned him;

yet murmurs mounted,

men were rising.

Goths were there many:

griefs they remembered,

wars in Mirkwood

and wars of old.

    84    

From the hall striding

high they shouted,

foes turned to friends

fiercely greeted:

›Goths and Niflungs

our gods helping

will hew the Huns

to hell’s shadow!‹

    85    

The few and fearless

fiercely answered

(their backs were driven

to the builded walls):

Niflungs 

›Friends, come welcome!

The feast is high.

Now songs let us sing

of our sires of yore.‹

    86    

Of the Goths’ glory

Gunnar sang there;

of Iormunrek

earth-shadowing king;

of Angantýr

and old battles,

of Dylgja, Dúnheið,

and Danpar’s walls.

    87    

Forth went Högni,

hate rekindled,

his son Snævar

at his side leaping.

Hewn was Högni

by a Hun chieftain;

his shield was shorn

in shards falling.

    88    

Snævar they slew there,

their swords stabbed him;

he left his life

laughing grimly.

Högni wept not;

from his hand the shield

stooping lifted;

strode then onward.

    89    

The stairs they strode

streaming redly;

at dark doorways

they dinned and hammered;

into halls of Atli

hewed a pathway;

rushed in roaring,

reeking-handed.

    90    

Gudrún they greeted,

Gunnar and Högni:

Gunnar & 

›This feast is fashioned

Högni 

fair and seemly!

Fell-shapen fates

will force us ever

as wife to give thee,

and a widow make thee!‹

Gudrún

    91    

›If for wrongs ye wrought

ruth now moves you,

doom forestall not!

This deed forego!‹

Gunnar & 

›At our sister’s prayer

Högni 

let him slink away!

Woman’s robes ward him,

not warrior’s mail!‹

    92    

Forth went Atli,

anguish gnawed him;

to Gudrún Högni

said grim farewell:

Högni 

›Thy price is paid,

thy prayer granted!

At life’s forfeit

we have loosed our foe.‹

*

    93    

Forth sent Atli

his errand-riders;

Hunland hearkened,

hosts were arming.

Gallowsfowl to gladden

Goths and Niflungs

from the hall they hurled

the Hunnish corpses.

    94    

Daylight grew dim,

dark shadows walked

in echoing halls

that Atli loved.

In need most dire

the Niflung lords

doom awaited;

the doors were shut.

    95    

Night lapped the world

and noiseless town;

under ashen moonlight

the owls hooted.

At guarded doorways

Gunnar and Högni

silent sat they

sleepless waiting.

    96    

First spake Högni:

Högni 

›Are these halls afire?

Of day untimely

doth the dawn smoulder?

Do dragons in Hunland

dreadly flaming

wind here their way?

Wake, O heroes!‹

    97    

Gunnar answered:

Gunnar 

›Guard the doorways!

Here dawn nor dragon

dreadly burneth;

the gabled houses

are gloom-shrouded,

under ailing moon

the earth is shadowed.

    98    

There is tramp of men

torches bearing,

clink of corslet,

clank of armour.

There is crying of ravens,

cold howls the wolf,

shields are shimmering,

shafts uplifted.‹

Gunnar &

    99    

›Wake now, wake now!

Högni 

War is kindled.

Now helm to head,

to hand the sword.

Wake now, warriors,

wielding glory!

To wide Valhöll

ways lie open.‹

*

    100    

At the dark doorways

they dinned and hammered;

there was clang of swords

and crash of axes.

The smiths of battle

smote the anvils;

sparked and splintered

spears and helmets.

    101    

In they hacked them,

out they hurled them,

bears assailing,

boars defending.

Stones and stairways

streamed and darkened;

day came dimly –

the doors were held.

    102    

Five days they fought

few and dauntless;

the doors were riven,

dashed asunder.

They barred them with bodies,

bulwarks piling

of Huns and Niflungs

hewn and cloven.

    103    

(Atli spoke then

anguish mourning:)

Atli 

›My friends are fallen,

my foes living,

my kith and kindred

cloven-breasted.

I am wealth-bereaved

and wife-curséd,

of glory shorn

in the grey of years.

    104    

Woe and wailing

in my wide kingdom!

Where I feasted long

are fell serpents.

The proud pillars

are purple-stained

in the builded halls

that Budli reared.‹

    105    

Then Beiti spake there

bale devising,

the king’s counsellor –

he was cunning-hearted:

Beiti 

›Accursed is become

thy carven house!

Better loss of little

than to lose thy all.

    106    

Fire still may tame

these fell serpents,

thy pillars be the pyre

of these proud robbers!‹

For the ruin and wrack

wrath seized Atli;

that shame he shirked not,

shorn of glory.

    107    

Flame-encircled

fearless Niflungs

in riven harness

redly glinted.

Iron-bolted walls,

ancient timbers,

creaked and smouldered,

cracked and tumbled.

    108    

There hot and smoking

fell hissing embers,

and plashed and sputtered

in the pools of gore.

Reek was round them,

a rolling smoke;

dank dripped their sweat –

the doors were held.

    109    

Their shields they raised

over shattered helmets;

they stamped the brands

on streaming floors.

Blacktongued with thirst

blood there drank they;

fell one by one

on the ways to hell.

    110    

Out burst the brethren

blackhued, grisly,

boars bleeding-tusked

at bay at last.

The Huns grasped them

helmless, shieldless,

bare and bleeding,

with broken swords.

    111    

As hounds affrighted

Huns were crying;

they were rent and riven

by reeking hands.

Necks were broken

and knees sundered,

ere the Borgund king

was bound and thrown.

    112    

Last fought Högni

alone hopeless;

his teeth tore them

as they tied him down.

The dust was bitten,

the doom fallen,

the Need of the Niflungs

and their night was come.

    113    

In dank prison

dark and evil

Högni hurled they;

Huns him guarded.

But Gunnar bound

in Gudrún’s bower

was flung at the feet

of her frenzied lord.

Atli

    114    

›Too long have I looked

for this last meeting,

Budlung’s vengeance

on Borgund lord.

Here lies at last

in lowly dust

lordly Gunnar!

Gudrún behold!

    115    

Sigurd remember,

and say me now,

is it sweet to see him

so sore avenged?

In my serpent-pit

snakes are waiting –

they bite more bitter

than blades of steel!‹

    116    

Gunnar he trampled,

Gudrún saw him:

Gudrún 

›Evil art thou, Atli.

May thy end be shame!

By Erp and Eitill

our own children

(sons of the sister

of these sad captives),

from the dust lift them!

Their death forego!‹

Atli

    117    

›Let them give me the gold,

the gleaming hoard,

the serpent’s treasure

that Sigurd conquered!

The gold, the gold

that grieves my dreams –

if Gunnar will grant it,

I will grant him thee!‹

Gunnar

    118    

›I will give thee the gold,

goodly portion,

the half yielding

which I hold my own.

Half hath Högni,

my haughty brother;

to his latest breath

he will loose it not.

    119    

Let heart of Högni

at my hand be laid

from breast bleeding

with blades severed;

then gold will I give,

gold of serpents –

all shall Atli

eager take it!‹

Gudrún

    120    

›Yet Högni no less,

mine hapless brother,

I did beg from thee

by those born of us!‹

Atli 

›Of his troll’s temper

yet true were the words!

The gold will I gain,

though Gudrún weep!‹

    121    

Out went Atli,

evil he purposed;

but wisemen bade him

wary counsel.

The queen fearing

of cunning thought they;

a thrall they seized

and thrust in prison.

*

Hjalli the

    122    

›Woe worth the wiles

thrall 

and wars of kings,

if my life I must lose

in their luckless feud!

The light of morning,

labour daylong,

fire at evening,

too few my days!‹

Huns

    123    

›Hjalli, swineherd,

thy heart give us!‹

Shrilly shrieked he

at the shining knife.

They bared his breast,

and bitter wailed he;

ere the point pricked him

he piercing cried.

    124    

Högni heard him,

to the Huns spake he:

Högni 

›Noisome the shrieking!

Knives were liever.

If hearts ye wish

here lies a better.

It trembles not. Take it!

Your toil were less.‹

    125    

The heart then cut they

from Hjalli’s bosom;

to Gunnar bore it

on golden dish:

Huns 

›Here lies his heart!

Högni is ended.‹

Loudly laughed he,

lord of Niflungs.

Gunnar

    126    

›I hapless see here

heart of craven.

Högni hath not

heart that trembles.

Quivering lies it;

quaked it swifter

beating in baseborn

breast ignoble.‹

    127    

Loudly laughed he

at life’s ending,

when knife was come

to Niflung lord.

The heart they cut

from Högni’s bosom;

to Gunnar bore it

on golden dish.

Gunnar

    128    

›I haughty see here

heart undaunted.

Högni held it,

heart untrembling.

Unshaken lies it,

so shook it seldom

beating in boldest

breast of princes.

    129    

Alone now living,

Lord of Niflungs,

the gold I hold

and guard for ever!

In hall nor heath

nor hidden dungeon

shall friend or foeman

find it gleaming.

    130    

Rhine shall rule it,

rings and goblets,

in weltering water

wanly shining.

In the deeps we cast it;

dark it rolleth,

as useless to man

as of yore it proved!

    131    

Cursed be Atli,

king of evil,

of glory naked,

gold-bereavéd;

gold-bereavéd,

gold-tormented,

murder-tainted,

murder-haunted!‹

    132    

Fires of madness

flamed and started

from eyes of Atli;

anguish gnawed him:

Atli 

›Serpents seize him!

snakes shall sting him.

In the noisome pit

naked cast him!‹

*

    133    

There gleaming-eyed

Gudrún waited;

the heart within her

hardened darkly.

Grim mood took her,

Grímhild’s daughter,

ruthless hatred,

wrath consuming.

    134    

There grimly waited

Gunnar naked;

snakes were creeping

silent round him.

Teeth were poisoned,

tongues were darting;

in lidless eyes

light was shining.

    135    

A harp she sent him;

his hands seized it,

strong he smote it;

strings were ringing.

Wondering heard men

words of triumph,

song up-soaring

from the serpents’ pit.

    136    

There coldly creeping

coiling serpents

as stones were staring

stilled, enchanted.

There slowly swayed they,

slumber whelmed them,

as Gunnar sang

of Gunnar’s pride.

    137    

As voice in Valhöll

valiant ringing

the golden Gods

he glorious named;

of Ódin sang he,

Ódin’s chosen,

of Earth’s most mighty,

of ancient kings.

    138    

A huge adder

hideous gleaming

from stony hiding

was stealing slow.

Huns still heard him

his harp thrilling,

and doom of Hunland

dreadly chanting.

    139    

An ancient adder

evil-swollen,

to breast it bent

and bitter stung him.

Loud cried Gunnar

life forsaking;

harp fell silent,

and heart was still.

    140    

To the queen that cry came

clear and piercing;

aghast she sat

in guarded bower.

Erp and Eitill

eager called she:

dark their locks were,

dark their glances.

*

    141    

Pyres they builded

proud and stately;

Hunland’s champions

there high upraised.

A pyre they builded

on the plain standing;

there naked lay

the Niflung lords.

    142    

Flames were mounting,

fire was roaring,

reek was swirling

ringed with tumult.

Smoke was fading,

sunk was burning;

windblown ashes

were wafted cold.

    143    

A hall was thronging,

Huns were drinking

the funeral feast

of fallen men.

Foes were vanquished,

fire had burned them;

now Atli was lord

of East and West.

    144    

Wealth he dealt there,

wounds requiting,

worthy weregild

of warriors slain.

Loud they praised him;

long the drinking,

wild grew the words

of the wine-bemused.

    145    

Gudrún came forth

goblets bearing:

Gudrún 

›Hail, O Hun-king,

health I bring thee!‹

Deep drank Atli,

drained them laughing:

though gold he missed,

yet was Gunnar dead.

Gudrún

    146    

›Hail, O Hun-king,

hear me speaking:

My brethren are slain

that I begged of thee.

Erp and Eitill

dost thou ask to look on?

Ask no longer –

their end hath come!

    147    

Their hearts thou tastest

with honey mingled,

their blood was blent

in the bowls I gave;

those bowls their skulls

bound with silver,

their bones thy hounds

have burst with teeth.‹

    148    

There awful cries

of anguish woke;