Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages

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Jǫkull Bárðarson (Jǫk)

11th century; volume 1; ed. Diana Whaley;

Lausavísur (Lv) - 2

Skj info: Jǫkull Bárðarson, Islænder, d.1030. (AI, 314, BI, 291).

Skj poems:
Lausavísur

According to Snorri Sturluson (ÓH 1941, I, 503; ÍF 27, 331), Jǫkull (Jǫk) was the son of Bárðr Jǫkulsson of Vatnsdalur, northern Iceland; he is described as a big, powerful man and a great traveller. He was uncle of the saga hero Grettir Ásmundarson and tried unsuccessfully to dissuade him from tackling the revenant Glámr (ÍF 7, 117). Jǫkull became a follower of Hákon jarl Eiríksson (on whom, see ‘Ruler biographies’ in Introduction to this volume), and this allegiance led, in the late 1020s, to both his triumph and his downfall, as commemorated in the two lausavísur attributed to him.

Lausavísur — Jǫk LvI

Diana Whaley 2012, ‘(Introduction to) Jǫkull Bárðarson, Lausavísur’ in Diana Whaley (ed.), Poetry from the Kings’ Sagas 1: From Mythical Times to c. 1035. Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages 1. Turnhout: Brepols, p. 813.

 1   2 

Skj: Jǫkull Bárðarson: Lausavísur (AI, 314, BI, 291)

in texts: Flat, Fsk, Hkr, ÓH, ÓHHkr

SkP info: I, 813

old edition introduction edition manuscripts transcriptions concordance references search files

 

1 Hlautk frá Sult, en sæta
síð fregn, at ek kvíða,
— vôn erumk hreggs at hreini
hlýrvangs — skipi stýra,
þvís, ýstéttar, átti
Ôleifr, funa kleifar,
— gramr vas sjalfr á sumri
sigri ræntr — inn digri.
I drew the lot to steer the ship from Sylte, and the lady will hardly hear that I’m daunted — I have a prospect of a storm hitting the reindeer of the prow-plain [SEA > SHIP] —, the one [ship] that Óláfr inn digri (‘the Stout’) owned, slopes of the flame of the yew-bow’spath [ARM/HAND > GOLD > WOMEN]; the king himself was robbed of victory in summer.
2 Svíða sôr af mœði;
setit hefk opt við betra;
unds á oss, sús sprændi
ótrauð legi rauðum.
Byss mér blóð ór þessi
ben; ték við þrek venjask;
verpr hjalmgǫfugr hilmir
heiðsær á mik reiði.
Wounds are burning from exhaustion; I have often sat through better; there is a gash on us [me], which has spurted, unstinting, red liquid. My blood gushes from this wound; I am becoming used to acts of courage; the helmet-noble, revered ruler hurls his anger at me.
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