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Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages

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Stanzas from Laufás Edda — Anon (LaufE)III

Anonymous Lausavísur

Kari Ellen Gade 2017, ‘ Anonymous, Stanzas from Laufás Edda’ in Kari Ellen Gade and Edith Marold (eds), Poetry from Treatises on Poetics. Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages 3. Turnhout: Brepols, p. 637. <https://skaldic.org/m.php?p=text&i=2976> (accessed 27 April 2024)

 

Hvé fyr leik, en lauka
Lofn kunni þat stofna,
stórvænn, styrjar kenni,
stendr línapaldr mínum.
 
‘How the mightily fair linen-apple-tree [WOMAN] prevents my pleasure, and the Lofn <goddess> of leeks [WOMAN] could inflict that on the master of battle [WARRIOR].
Spíru semi hǫnd hér
hringa; birtisk virðing.
 
‘May the hand of the sapling of rings [WOMAN] arrange [things] here; may honour be shown.
Sigrunnit kømr svanna
serkland at mér grandi;
Sólmarkar drepr serkjar
samland við mér gamni.
 
‘The conquered shirt-land [WOMAN] sends the harm of women to me; the fellow-land of the shirt [WOMAN] destroys the pleasure of Sólmǫrk for me.
Land verr lofðungr brǫndum
lauks máferils hauka;
hjálmklæðum gefr hilmir
hvítinga frið lítinn.
 
‘The lord of the leek [WOMAN] adorns the land of hawks [ARM] with fires of the seagull-track [SEA > GOLD]; the ruler of drinking-horns [WOMAN] gives little peace to helmet-clothes.
Ok óþokkaðr okkar
ostmýgir brauðgýgi;
bjúgr elr sorg um saurga
saupstríðir flot-Gríði.
 
‘And the disliked oppressor of cheese [MAN] bemoans the ogress of bread [WOMAN]; the bent tormentor of buttermilk [MAN] harbours grief about the filthy Gríðr <giantess> of fat [WOMAN].
Ok orðvísa Ásu
járnraddar svá kvaddi.
 
‘And greeted the word-wise Æsir <gods> of the iron-voice [BATTLE > WARRIORS] thus.
Vát*r kom víst at rétta
vallfinnandi linna
— mærð era mjúklig orðin
mín — Víðblinda svíni.
 
‘The wet bestower of the field of serpents [(lit. ‘field-bestower of serpents’) GOLD > GENEROUS MAN] certainly came to hunt the swine of Víðblindi <giant> [WHALE]; my praise did not become smooth.
Kveða skal hróðr fyr hríðar
hræblakks viðum sævar
— drykkr var Dúrnis rekkum
døkkr — ljósara nøkkvi.
 
‘I must recite somewhat more transparent praise before the trees of the corpse-dark sea of battle [BLOOD > WARRIORS]; the drink of Dúrnir <dwarf> [POETRY] was obscure to the men.
Á sá hann falla         eitri blandna;
fákr sparn fótum         foldar sveita.
 
‘He saw a river flow, mixed with poison; the horse kicked the blood of the earth [WATER] with its feet.
Andri er ek mýgi*         upp með vágsbotni;
        kom ek at dals dreyra.
 
‘As I press down the ski up along the end of the bay; I came to the gore of the valley [WATER].
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