Translation:Baldrs draumar


 * Later the gods were
 * all in a meeting
 * and the goddesses
 * all in conversation,
 * and the powerful gods
 * talked about
 * why there were
 * bad dreams for Baldr.


 * Up rose Óðinn,
 * men’s sacrifice,
 * and he laid the saddle
 * on Sleipnir.
 * He rode from there, down
 * to mist-hell;
 * he met a dog,
 * which came out of hell.


 * It was bloody
 * in front, round its breast,
 * and bayed for a long time
 * at the father of magic.
 * Óðinn rode on,
 * the earth-road resounded;
 * he came to the high
 * house of Hel.


 * Then Óðinn rode
 * to the door to the east,
 * where he knew of
 * a witch’s grave.
 * He began to sing
 * a wiser death-spell
 * until, under duress, she rose,
 * and said these words:


 * ‘What person is it—
 * unfamiliar to me—
 * who has strengthened me
 * for a difficult journey?
 * I was snowed on with snow
 * and beaten with rain
 * and soaked with dew;
 * I was dead a long time.’

Óðinn said:


 * I am called Road-Tame,
 * I am the son of Death-Tame,
 * tell me about hell—
 * I must go from the world;
 * for whom are the benches
 * strewn with rings,
 * the fine dais
 * overflowed with gold?’

The witch said:


 * ‘Here stands mead
 * brewed for Baldr,
 * bright drinks;
 * a shield lies over them;
 * and the sons of gods are
 * in suspense.
 * I speak under duress;
 * now I will be silent.’

Óðinn said:


 * ‘Don’t fall silent, witch:
 * I want to ask you,
 * to know everything;
 * I still want to know
 * who will become
 * Baldr’s slayer
 * and steal Óðinn’s son
 * from life?’

The witch said:


 * ‘Höðr will carry the high
 * fame-tree here:
 * he will become
 * Baldr’s slayer
 * and steal Óðinn’s son
 * from life.
 * I speak under duress;
 * now I will be silent.’

Óðinn said:


 * ‘Don’t fall silent, witch,
 * I want to ask you,
 * to know everything;
 * I still want to know
 * who will get the evil deed
 * avenged on Höðr,
 * or convey Baldr’s
 * slayer onto the funeral pyre?’

The witch said:


 * ‘Rindr will bear Váli
 * in western halls:
 * he, Óðinn’s son,
 * will fight when one night old;
 * he’ll neither wash his hands
 * nor comb his head
 * before he conveys Baldr’s
 * shooter onto the funeral pyre.
 * I speak under duress;
 * now I will be silent.’

Óðinn said:


 * ‘Don’t fall silent, witch,
 * I want to ask you,
 * to know everything;
 * I still want to know
 * who the maidens are
 * who will weep from longing
 * and throw into the sky
 * the corners of their neck-cloths?’

The witch replied:


 * ‘You’re not Road-Tame,
 * as I thought,
 * but you’re Óðinn,
 * the old sacrifice.’

Óðinn said:


 * ‘You’re not a witch,
 * nor a wise women,
 * but you’re the mother
 * of three ogres.’

The witch said:


 * ‘Ride home, Óðinn,
 * and be proud:
 * more men will come
 * back on a visit
 * when Loki is free,
 * slips from his bonds,
 * and the fate of the gods
 * comes, ripping everything apart.’

Translated from 'Baldrs draumar', in De gamle Eddadigte, ed. by Finnur Jónsson (Copenhagen: Gad, 1932), with reference to 'Baldrs draumar', in Eddukvæði: Sæmundar-Edda, ed. by Guðni Jónsson, 2 vols (Reykjavík: Íslendingasagnaútgáfan, 1949).