Source text: “The Lay of Hjalmar”

Hjálmarskviða

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English translation made by AI from the Old Norse.

“What ails you, Hjalmar?
Your colour has changed;
I see you are troubled
by grievous wounds;
your helmet is hacked,
and your mailcoat at the side;
now I believe
your life is at an end.”
Hjalmar said:

“I have sixteen wounds,
a torn mailcoat;
blackness fills my sight,
I cannot see my way;
close to my heart struck
Angantyr’s sword,
its sharp, blood-drawing point
hardened in poison.

I owned on earth
five estates together,
but I was never
content with that lot;
now I must lie
bereft of life,
wounded by a sword,
on Samsey.

In the hall the retainers
are drinking mead,
adorned with necklaces,
at my father’s home;
ale overcomes
many a man,
while sword-edge tracks torment me
here on the island.

I left the fair-skinned
lady of the headband
on Agnafit’s
outermost shore;
her words will prove true,
those she spoke to me:
that I would never
come back again.

I left the lovely
singing of women,
eager for pleasure,
east with Soti;
I hastened my journey
and joined the host,
for the last time departing
from faithful friends.

Draw from my hand
the red-gold ring;
carry it to young
Ingibjorg;
her grief will linger
deep in her heart
when I do not come
to Uppsala.

A raven flies from the east,
from a tall tree;
after it flies
an eagle in company;
I give prey to that eagle
soaring highest;
it will drink
of my blood.”