Song For Odin

I sing of the tales of the wanderer

The rider of yggdrasill

He gave up an eye into mimir’s well

Where deeply, he drank his fill

For nine long nights, old hárr, hung he

In search of the spoken spell;

The runes that he found drew sounds for man

And down, from the tree, he fell

A snake, he slid through gunnloð’s court;

The mead of poetry sought;

Three sips, and he fled as eagle’s wing;

By suttung, was never caught

Two sticks on a beach hárbarð had found;

His brothers heard his call;

He gave his own breath and his blood to the wood

And told them of his hall

“Valhalla holds the einherjar

“Who’ll fight on vigrið plain.”

As fenrir sinks his fangs to the bone

The life of odin will wane

Fear not, my kin, of the ragnarók,

For fimbultýr truly has won;

He saw his own death at the end of time

And whispered this to his son