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Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages

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Buslubæn — Busla BuslVIII (Bós)

Busla

Busla, Buslubæn — Vol. 8 — Wilhelm Heizmann

Wilhelm Heizmann (forthcoming), ‘ Busla, Buslubæn’ in Margaret Clunies Ross (ed.), Poetry in fornaldarsögur. Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages 8. Turnhout: Brepols, p. . <https://skaldic.org/m.php?p=text&i=2936> (accessed 19 April 2024)

 

1.
Hér liggr Hringr konungr         hilmir Gauta
einráðastr         allra manna.
Ætlar þú son þinn         sjálfr at myrða;
þau munu fádæmi         fréttaz víða.
 
‘Here lies King Hringr, ruler of the Gautar, the most stubborn of all men. You yourself intend to murder your son; these shocking events will be heard far and wide. ’
2.
Heyr þú bæn Buslu;         brátt mun hon sungin,
svá at heyraz skal         um heim allan
ok óþörf öllum,         þeim sem á heyra,
en þeim þó fjandligust,         sem ek vil fortala.
 
‘Hear Busla’s plea; it will soon be sung, so that it will be heard over the whole world, and harmful for all those who hear [it], but yet most ruinous for that one whom I wish to curse. ’
3.
Villiz vættir,         verði ódæmi,
hristiz hamrar,         heimr sturliz,
vestni veðrátta,         verði ódæmi,
nema þú, Hringr konungr,         Herrauð friðir
ok honum Bósa         bjargir veitir.
 
‘May spirit beings become lost, may the monstrous become reality, may the cliffs falter, may the world become disturbed, may the weather become chaotic, may the monstrous become reality, unless you, King Hringr, make peace with Herrauðr and grant freedom to Bósi. ’
4.
Svá skal ek þjarma         þér at brjósti,
at hjarta þitt         höggormar gnagi,
en eyru þín         aldrigi heyri,
ok augu þín         úthverf snúiz,
nema þú Bósa         björg um veitir
ok honum Herrauð         heipt upp gefir.
 
‘I shall so oppress your breast as though adders are gnawing at your heart, and your ears shall never hear [again], and your eyes shall turn outwards, unless you grant Bósi freedom and forego your hatred towards Herrauðr. ’
5.
Ef þú siglir,         slitni reiði,
en af stýri         stökkvi krókar,
rifni reflar,         reki segl ofan,
en aktaumar         allir slitni,
nema þú Herrauð         heipt upp gefir
ok svá Bósa         biðir til sátta.
 
‘If you are sailing, may the rigging tear, and the clamps spring from the steering rudder, your canvas be torn to tatters, the sail fall down, and the braces all break, unless you forego your hatred towards Herrauðr and likewise grant forgiveness to Bósi. ’
6.
Ef þú ríðr,         raskiz taumar,
heltiz hestar,         en hrumiz klárar,
en götur allar         ok gagnstígar
troðiz allar         í tröllhendr fyrir þér,
nema þú Bósa         bjargir veitir
ok Herrauð         heipt upp gefir.
 
‘If you ride, may the reins become tangled, the horses limp, the nags become decrepit, and on all roads and through-routes may you be driven into the hands of trolls, unless you grant Bósi freedom and forego your hatred against Herrauðr. ’
7.
Sé þér í hvílu         sem í hálmeldi
en í hásæti         sem á hafbáru.
Þó skal þér seinna         sýnu verra,
en, ef þú vilt við meyjar         manns gaman hafa,
villiz þú þá vegarins;         eða viltu þulu lengri?
 
‘May it be for you in your bed as if [you were] in burning straw and on your high-seat like on a churning sea. Yet later may it be a great deal worse for you, and if you wish to have a man’s pleasure with girls, may you then lose your way: or do you desire a longer rigmarole? ’
8.
Tröll ok álfar         ok töfrnornir,
búar, bergrisar         brenni þínar hallir.
Hati þik hrímþussar,         hestar streði þik,
stráin stangi þik,         en stormar æri þik,
ok vei verði þér,         nema þú vilja minn gjorir.
 
‘May trolls and elves and magic-Norns, supernatural inhabitants and mountain giants burn your halls. May frost giants loathe you, stallions violate you, straw prick you and storms bewilder you; and harm will come to you unless you do my bidding. ’
9.
Komi hér seggir sex;         seg þú mér nöfn þeirra
öll óbundin;         ek mun þér sýna.
Getr þú ei ráðit,         svá at mér rétt þikki,
þá skulu þik hundar         í hel gnaga,
en sál þín         sökkvi í víti.
 
‘Let six warriors come here; tell me all their names without concealment; I will show [them] to you. If you cannot guess, so that it seems correct to me, then let dogs gnaw you to death and your soul sink to punishment. ’
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