Gjallarhorn Trymja

Hearing I ask from the holy races
From Heimdall’s sons, both high and low
Thou wilt, Allfather, that well I relate
Old tales I remember of men long ago.

On a hill there sat, and smote on his harp,
Eggther the joyous, the giants' warder;
Above him the cock in the bird-wood crowed,
Fair and red did Fjalar stand.

Much do I know,
and more I can see
Of the fate of the gods,
the mighty in fight.

Hearing I ask from the holy races
From Heimdall’s sons, both high and low
Thou wilt, Allfather, that well I relate
Old tales I remember of men long ago.

Then to the gods crowed Gollinkambi,
He wakes the heroes in Odin's hall;
And beneath the earth does another crow,
The rust-red bird at the bars of Hel.

Much do I know,
and more I can see
Of the fate of the gods,
the mighty in fight.

Fast move the sons of Mimir and fate.
Is heard in the note of Gjallarhorn;
Loud blows Heimdall, the horn is aloft,
In fear quake all who on Hel roads are.

How fare the gods? How fare the elves?
All Jotunheim groans, the gods are at council;
Loud roar the dwarves by the doors of stone,
They are the masters of the rocks!

Now Garm howls louder before Gnipahellir,
The fetters will burst, and wolf will run free.
Much do I know, and more I can see
Of the fate of the gods, the mighty in fight.

Fast move the sons of Mimir and fate.
Is heard in the note of Gjallarhorn;
Loud blows Heimdall, the horn is aloft,
In fear quake all who on Hel roads are.

Now do I see the earth anew
Rise all green from the waves again;
The cataracts fall, and the eagle flies,
And fish he catches beneath the cliffs.

The gods in Ithavoll meet together,
Of the terrible girdler of earth they talk,
And the mighty past they call to mind,
And the ancient runes of the Ruler of Gods.