These poems are based on the Poetic Edda, a collection of poems divided between mythic and heroic poems. The heroic poems make up the larger part of the work, and all deal with the exploits of the Volsung family, making one long, loosely connected story. The poems below deal with the story, and as nearly as possible are in the eddaic manner. They are all in fornyrdislag meter. The one exception is four stanzas in "The Song of the Nuthatches," which are in ljodahattr meter, but that poem is a translation, and follows the original in that variation. Most of the Edda is in one or the other of these meters.
The Edda, for whatever reason, has no poems dealing with the early history of the Volsung family. This we get from the Volsunga Saga, which fills in many of the gaps left by the poems. This poem opens at the point at which Sigmund and his nephew and son by his sister, Sinfjotli, have piled wood around King Siggier's hall and set it afire. He is seeking revenge for the betrayal and murder of his father, Volsung, and his nine brothers at the hands of Siggier. His sister, Signy, is married to Siggier, but has helped Sigmund achieve his vengeance. The saga tells us that, when the hall is ablaze, Sigmund calls his sister to come out, but she chooses instead to die with the husband whose death she has contributed to, just as she has already shared responsiblity for the death of her four sons by the king. The saga does not say why, and so this poem is an exploration of her likely motives. The poem is mostly in dialogue, which is typical of eddaic poems. In fact, dialogue is so pervasive an element in Norse poetry that the action between speeches is often handled with a short prose summary. The prose passage at the beginning and end is also typical.
THE LAY OF SIGNY VOLSUNGSDOTTIR
After they had escaped from the pit in which King Siggeir had entombed them, Sigmund and Sinfjotli came by night to the hall of the king. They piled wood around the walls, setting it alight, then stood on either side of the door with drawn swords that none might go out except by their will.
Sigmund
Come to the door daughter of Volsung.
Bright are the flames, roof beams glow;
Fire bees swarm stinging the night;
Hungry on thatch thurses are feeding.
Signy
Who do I hear the hall without?
Is it my brother back from the mound"
Sigmund
Sigmund I am, and Sinfjotli, your son.
Come to the door, daughter of kings.
Signy
Long were the days, longer the nights,
Long have I waited alone with my thoughts.
Loud are the cries, louder my laugh.
Bane of branches breaks down the walls.
Once to the woods I went by night;
Never again will I go that far.
A weary walk it would be now
To bear a horn the hall around.
Carven doorposts cunningly wrought
Mark the bound that both must keep.
I stand at the door; stay here I must.
Reach not your hand, or hence I will go.
Sigmund
Sons of Surt circle the pyre;
Over the feast fearsome they roar.
Life is outside, the last of your kin;
None that you love linger within.
Now have I brought bane to my foe;
Now we are free to fare as we will,
To live for ourselves instead of the dead--
why are you cold to closest of kin?
Signy
Go your way, the world is yours;
Wives will you take, and treasure gain;
Sons will you have, a hall and ships.
The grass-grown howe my home must be.
Sigmund
Foolish your words-- worthy is life;
Naught are the dead, but dust underfoot.
Take a man, if marry you would,
Or half of hall my hand will win.
Signy
What name does a woman wear in the world
That husband slays and sons as well?
Even the bondmaids bent to the quern
Will sing foul songs to spread my name.
For pretty sons to Siggeir I bore,
And gave to death this day to win.
For vengeance alone, and love of the dead
So long have I lived; my life is done.
Sigmund
A fifth you bore, his blood the same,
But like in mold his mother's kin,
Like Rerir's son, remains to you,
A shield against the shame of words.
Signy
As much as mine his might is yours;
A cunning witch lay with the king.
I took her form, fared to the woods,
And made a child ere moon could set.
Sigmund
Ill the deed we did that night;
Had I known, never I would.
Signy
If kin condemn, what can I hope
When other tongues my tale relate?
Sigmund
I do not wish the deed undone.
Ungrafted fruit is fair sometimes,
Nor did the Disir desert his birth.
Let this one tale untold remain.
Signy
Hide no truth, but tell it all;
Though scorn I'd not escape in life,
My death will earn undying fame.
Farewell you both, my brother and son.
Sigmund
Rafters break, brands are falling,
Searing our bodies, blistering flesh.
Here is your brother, here is your son;
Wait no longer; leave with us.
Signy
All I have done that daughter can do.
No duty as wife remains but to die.
Go with my love to glorious lives.
In Hella's hall my home must be.
With these words Signy went back into the hall and the roof fell in, so that she was consumed by the fire with King Siggeir and all his people. But Sigmund and Sinfjotli went out into the world and won great renown.
The death of Sigmund's son, Sinfjotli is told briefly in the Volsunga Saga, and in the Edda, not as a poem, but as a short transitional piece of prose between the Helgi poems and the first poem dealing with Sigurd. Whether there was once a poem, now lost, that covered this story, there is no way of knowing. If there was, it may have been rather like this one. One the other hand, it may have been a much longer poem dealing with other related matters as well. Some of the Eddaic poems contain such a variety of material that one may suspect that at times fragments of several poems have been patched together. The name, Farmaguth (cargo-god), is one of the many names for Odin, so that the reader should be able to guess the boatman's identity, even though Sigmund does not.
THE LAY OF FARMAGUTH
Sinfjotli, the son of Sigmund, wooed the same woman as the brother of Borghild, Sigmund's wife, and killed him in battle. Sigmund paid compensation to his wife for that death, but she remained unsatisfied, and poisoned Sinfjotli at a feast. Sigmund carried his dead son from the hall and down to the seashore, whee he came upon an old man sitting beside a boat.
Farmaguth
Hawks scream high among crags;
Below, waves wash against rocks;
Briers and grass grow on the path.
No hall lies near, nor hut of thrall.
Shortly in sea spray Sunna will wet
Her horses' fetlocks, the hubs of her cart.
When night falls, need there is
Of food and fire, a friend and beer.
Where do you wend?-- wolf-like you seem,
Though finely clothed, kingly your garb.
Surely you flee an ill-fated war,
Bearing some kinsman killed by the foe.
Sigmund
I bear my son slain in the hall
By woman's wile, not weapon's stroke.
Long is my journey, my load not light;
Ferry me, stranger, the firth across.
Farmaguth
Surely you do shame to the dead,
Bearing his body from bright-lit hall
Through nighted woods and wolf-fells dark
Down to the surf, the seal-loud shore.
Kinsmen call to come to a feast;
Pile with gold a glittering pyre;
Praise the deeds done by his arm;
Lament his loss with mournful words.
Sigmund
Few kin live to come to a feast.
My people's line now lies in dust,
Forgotten of gods, forgotten of men--
Long have lived; of life grown weary.
My father betrayed by a faithless king,
A sister burned, my brothers killed,
And Borghild my wife, wicked of mind,
My sister's son, has slain, and mine.
Farmaguth
What mighty wrong could rouse such wrath
That serpent-like your son she stung,
A deed whose cost her death could be,
But nothing less than lasting shame?
Sigmund
Her brother wooed a woman that
Sinfjotli too had sought to wed.
Sword and sheild settled their feud;
The brother fell as fate decreed.
Such my might for many slain,
Wergild no man of me has had,
Yet freely I gave red gold to her,
Peace to buy for a brother's death.
Thrice in hall the horn she bore;
Thrice my son with scorn refused,
Knowing the woman willed his death,
And twice myself, I took the drink.
Twice unharmed the horn I drained.
Sinfjotlis might, to mine far less,
No poison blade, or point could harm,
Though poison drunk his death would be.
A third time thus; by then grown drunk,
With fool's words his woe I wrought,
Bade him lift to lip the horn,
And moustache use, the mead to strain.
And so he drank, And dead he fell.
Seldom to man is mead a friend,
As fools in sorrow find next day,
Waking to woes drunk words have wrought.
Little remains for me to do,
But build a pyre and burn my son,
And raise a mound that men will see.
Then live or die, I little care.
My dearest son this day I've lost,
And Borghild too, my bedmate once.
Little of worth is left to me.
And I am old, too old to wed.
Farmaguth
Hot your haste to hurry the end.
One battle yet you have to fight,
Another wife to wed remains,
Another son to swell her womb.
A tree of battle barbed with thorn,
Golden of leaf, graceful in form
Yet must spring from Sigmund's line--
The soil not turned, the seed not sown.
Sigmund
Well-meaning words their worth but small.
Much I've seen, and suffered much
For many half-years, too many by one.
Ferry me, stranger, the firth across.
Farmaguth
Well know I that woman's art
Freya taught the father of gods.
Far I see, and farther still--
Much is yet for you to do.
Farmaguth my name, well known to men;
widely through all the worlds I've gone.
Though strange to you I seem to be,
Twice we've met, and once more will.
But now the sun sets in the west.
Ravens to Har return with word
Of weal and woe in worlds nine.
Too long in talk we've lingered here.
My craft is small to carry three,
And you are not a youth half-grown.
Within the bow the body lay,
But you must take the trail around.
Sigmund did as the other bade. But when the boat had been pushed off from the shore it vanished, so that Sigmund know that it was Odin who had taken his son.
"Sigrun and Helgi" is taken from the last episode of "The Second Lay of Helgi Hundingsbana." This poem deals with the love between Helgi, a son of Sigmund, and a Valkyrie, Sigrun. Both are said to be reincarnations of another Helgi and another Valkyrie. Sigrun is betrothed, apparently unwillingly to another man. Helgi wins her hand in battle, but in the process kills her father, and eight of his sons, sparing the one surviving brother, Dag, for his sister's sake. Later Dag murders Helgi, and is cursed by Sigrun, who is inconsolable over the loss of her love, and curses her brother in memorably violent terms. The story ends with this gothic little scene.
The original poem must originally have been an effective and fairly unified work, but the loss of some stanzas, unclear transitions, and material imported from other poems have blurred its outlines, and caused it to be one of the less read poems of the collection. I have done nothing innovative with the material except draw this compact little story out of its context so that it can appear to better advantage. As nearly as possible I have followed the original text, including the prose, my only addition being a longer prose introduction to the beginning of the story. The original is in fornyrdislag meter, which I have followed.
SIGRUN AND HELGI
Helgi was the son of Sigmund, and a great warrior. To win Sigrun he defeated in battle and killed her father, King Hogni and eight of his sons, sparing only Dag for his sister's sake. Later Dag killed Helgi and was cursed by Sigrun, who wept continuously over the death of her husband. One evening Sigrun's maid was passing Helgi's burial mound and saw Helgi with a large following ride into it. The maid said:
What sight is this that seems a dream,
Dead men riding, or Ragnarok?
Spurring your horses, hastening by,
Or to their hearths do heroes return?
Helgi said
No dream to make you doubt your eyes,
Nor world's end, though us you see,
Spurring our horses, hastening by.
Nor to their hearths may heroes return.
The maiden returned home and told Sigrun:
Come out, Sigrun of Sevafioll
If you'd meet the master of folk;
The hill is open; Helgi has come,
With weeping wounds waits you there
That you may staunch the streaming blood.
Sigrun entered the mound and said to Helgi:
As glad I am to greet you here
As Odin's hawks, by hunger stirred
At slaughter's stench, and still-warm flesh,
Or when, dew drenched, the dawn they see.
Let me kiss the dead king first
Ere bloody mail-coat you cast aside.
Helgi, your hair is heavy with frost;
With dew of the slain, soaked you are,
Cold are the hands of Hogni's son;
How is there, lord, healing for that?
Helgi said:
By you, Sigrun of Sevafioll
Is Helgi soaked in sorrow-dew.
Gold-wearer, your weeping is cruel;
Before you sleep, bright southern maid,
Blood-tears wet the breast of your lord
With ice and fire, a festering grief.
Of this rare drink a draught we'll share.
Though life and land are lost to me,
Let no man sing sad songs for that,
Though on my breast are bleeding wounds,
For now our brides to the barrow come,
Women admired with we, the dead.
Sigrun prepared a bed in the mound:
Here I've made you, Helgi, a bed,
Free from care, kin of Ylfings,
There sleeping to lie, lord, in your arms,
As once I lay with the living king.
Helgi said:
Nothing, I say, will now seem strange
Soon or late at Sevafioll,
When you are clasped in corpse's arms,
So white in the howe, Hogni's child,
The quick with the dead, daughter of kings.
Now I must ride the reddening way
On a pale horse through paths of sky,
Westward bound to Windhelm bridge
Ere Salgofnir wakes the warrior band.
Then Helgi and his men rode away, and the women returned home. The next evening Sigrun had the maid keep watch at the mound. When Sigrun came at sunset she said:
Were he coming, he would by now,
Sigmund's heir, from Odin's hall.
Small hope remains that he will come,
Now eagles roost on ash's limbs,
And all are gone to the gathering of dreams.
Mad you'd be to make your way
King's daughter, to a corpse's house.
The dead become more dangerous far
When darkness falls than in full day.
Sigrun died soon after of sorrow and grief. It was thought in olden times that people were reborn, but now we consider it "an old wive's tale" that people are born again. It is said that Helgi and Sigrun were born again, he as Helgi Haddingsjaskati, and she as Kara, daughter of Halfdan, as is told in "The Lay of Kara," and she was a Valkyrie.
A few notes on the text: When Helgi is called "Hogni's son," it means son-in-law. The plural in references to the wives in the mounds makes no sense, since the story speaks only of Sigrun spending the night there. "The Lay of Kara" is lost, though the basic story is known from another source. According to the story, both Sigrun and Helgi have been reincarnated, and will be again.
"The Song of the Nuthatches" is the last part of "The Lay of Fafnir" which tells of the slaying of the dragon, Fafnir by Sigurd, and of Sigurd roasting the dragon's heart at the request of Regin the smith. This poem is a translation, and differs in only one respect from the poem as it appears in the Edda, though the difference is an important one. In the Edda seven nuthatches speak, each speaking one stanza. It was suggested as early as the 19th century that there might only be three nuthatches, a suggestion that Sophus Bugge at least partially confirmed by pointing out the woodcarving of the scene on the portals of the Hyllestad Church in Norway, in which there are only three birds. Not only is three more typical of stories in general, it is far more dramatic here, and seems to be further confirmed by the verse form. The first nuthatch points out Regin's murderous intentions in tones that are almost absurdly measured and qualified. The second adds to the sentiment in the same calm, overly restrained manner. The third speaks in violent and passionate terms, and in a different verse form, the quicker, ljodahattr meter. Then the first two speak again in the same tone as before, and the third agains speaks in the same quick, bloody-minded terms, and again in a different meter than the other nuthatches use, or the rest of the poem for that matter. A pattern seems to be developing, but it is broken at this point by the third nuthatch adding a second stanza to his speech. Then Sigurd responds in the same violent tone as the third, and confirms his shift to a more bloody-minded attitude by also using ljodahattr meter. Other than these four stanzas, three by the third nuthatch, and one by Sigurd, the rest of the poem is all in fornyrdislag meter. The difference in dramatic effect more than the evidence of the panels convinces me that the Medieval editor of the Edda was mistaken in dividing the speeches among seven nuthatches.
THE SONG OF THE NUTHATCHES
Sigurd took Fafnir's heart and roasted it on a spit. When he thought it was done and the juices were dripping, he poked it with a finger to test it. He burned his finger and stuck it into his mouth. But when Fafnir's heart's-blood touched his tongue, he understood the speech of the birds. He overheard some nuthatches twittering in the bushes. One nuthatch said:
"Blood soaked, there Sigurd sits;
Fafnir's heart with fire he roasts.
Wiser the ring-breaker were I think,
The shining life-sinew himself to eat."
A second spoke:
"There Regin lies, and lays a plan
To trick the youth that trusts in him.
Wrathful words he wraps in guile,
This smith of vileness to avenge his kin."
A third spoke:
"Cut off the head of the hoary wretch,
And hie him off to Hel.
Then all the gold get for himself,
The hoard that Fafnir had."
The first spoke:
"Wise were he if heed he took
To sound advice we sisters give:
Do right by self, make ravens glad.
See the ears, suspect the wolf."
The second spoke:
"Less wise to me the warrior seems
Than battle-leader ought to be,
If brother share not brother's fate,
When he has been the bane of one."
The third spoke:
"A fool is he if he should spare
The foreman of the folk.
There Regin lies, and wrong intends,
And he, unguarded from guile.
"The frost-cold jotun free of his head,
And wrest from him the rings.
The fortune then that Fafnir had,
One hand alone will hold."
Sigurd spoke:
"Regin's fate so fair is not,
That he will be my bane.
These brothers I mean both to slay,
And send them hence to Hel.
Sigurd cut off Regin's head, then ate Fafnir's heart and drank his blood and Fafnir's. Then Sigurd heard the words of the nuthatch:
"Gather, Sigurd, the golden rings;
Unkingly it is to cower in fear.
A maid I know, and none more fair,
Decked in gold, though get her you may.
Green is the track to Giuki's hall,
And fate the way to the wanderer shows.
That king, indeed, one daughter has,
Whose hand, Sigurd, your gold may buy."
Another spoke:
"There stands a hall on Hindarfiall
That all around is ringed with fire
That wise men made once long ago
From golden light, the glow of streams.
A valkyrie sleeps on the summit there;
about her bright, the bane of trees.
A sleep thorn, Ygg has struck in her,
Because she felled his favored one.
There will you find the maiden helmed,
Who came from war on Vingskornir.
Sigdrifa may from dream be roused,
Skiolding, never if Norns deny."
Sigurd followed Fafnir's track to his lair and found it open. The door and doorposts were iron, and all the posts inside the house which was partly underground. There Sigurd found much gold. He filled two chests and took the helm of terror, a gold mail shirt, the sword Hrotti, and many other priceless things. He loaded them on Grani, but the horse would not move until he had climbed on his back as well.
Some notes on the text: Ygg is another name for Odin, as is Har in The Lay of Farmaguth. "Bane of trees" like "bane of branches" and "suns of Surt" earlier, is a kenning for fire. What the "helm of terror" is is unknown. Fafnir, though a dragon, is the brother of the smith, Regin. Either his violent, greedy, and hoarding nature has manifested itself physically, or he has taken this form to guard the gold. He and his brother are not humans, and here Fafnir is called a jotun (etin, or giant), though elsewhere Regin is called a dwarf.
Index
Volsungs
Sigdrifa
Asatru
Rune Poems I
Rune Poems II
"Hogni and the Water Sprites" is a small story that does not appear in either the Edda or The Volsunga Saga. It is from the German Nibelungenlied, though I have given the characters their Icelandic names to keep this poem consistant with my other poems in the eddaic style. I have also used the Icelandic fornyrdislag meter, which works somewhat like the meter of the original poem, though the lines are shorter. As for the incidents of the poem and the manner in which they are presented, I have followed the original poem fairly closely, though not so closely that this could be called a translation. It is, rather, a retelling.
HOGNI AND THE WATER SPRITES
Gunnar and Hogni with a large following journied to Atli's hall in the land of the Huns. When they came to the Rhine it was in full flood. Gunnar wanted to ford the stream, but Hogni feared they would lose too many men, and so went looking for a ferry.
Hogni roamed the river's side,
The current too swift to swim against,
Seeking a boat to bear him across,
But found no house, nor ferry near.
Though loud the torrent, tumbling down,
A second sound he seemed to hear.
Then turning aside, he saw a pool
Fed by a spring from falls above.
And there in the water women swam,
A pair of nixies, naked and white
As ivory wands or willow peeled,
As swan, or snow, or silver coin.
Seeing a man, they swam far out,
And taunted him with teasing words,
Laughing with voices light and sweet.
Little they feared the force of his arm.
Hogni not long their laughter endured,
But finding their clothes, he caught them up,
And held them till one, Hadeburg named,
Promised with tears to tell him his fate.
"Companion of kings, our clothing give back,
If you would know the Norns' decree,
What good or ill in Atli's hall.
All will I tell you truly I swear."
Like water fowl the women swam,
And Hogni knew their nature from that--
Women famous for wisdom and truth--
So eagerly listened to all that she said.
"None wills you harm in Hunnish lands,
And warm will be your welcome there,
For Atli waits with eager heart.
Long will be told tales of this quest."
All this and more the maiden said,
Whatever Hogni hoped to hear,
And gladly he gave their garments back,
Laid them on rocks at river's edge.
But once they had donned their dresses again,
Magic garments that gave them power,
The second spoke, Sigelinde named--
Less welcome the song she sang to him.
"My sister lied, led you on,
Hoping her words would win our clothes.
Beyond the water waits your death.
Over Mirkwood are massing your foes."
"Turn again while time remains,
Or die at the hands of Hunnish men."
But Hogni said, "What whorish lie
Is this you tell, what trick intend?"
"Who in this land have we to fear?
What danger could face a force so strong?"
"Danger enough from Atli's hand.
A fawning wolf the wise beware."
With hasty words Hogni replied,
"Never will I take such tidings back
To Gunnar the king, the Giukings' lord.
Say where I can find a ferry now."
Then Hadeburg said, "My sister speaks truth.
Stop at the Rhine; return to your homes,
Or long your wives will wait for you,
Standing at windows, watching the road."
"Your bane you'll have of Budli's son.
To gain the gold that Grani bore,
Sigurd's gold that Gudrun's should be,
King Atli means to murder you."
With angry words the warrior replied,
"For better or worse, my wyrd is mine;
None knows the day his death will come.
Where is the ferry, or ford at least?"
Swiftly then Sigelinde spoke,
"Since I see you're set on death,
The ferryman lives not far downstream.
He has a house high on the bank."
"Gunnar I know the gold will hide
Deep in the Rhine to darkly gleam
For eyes of frogs and fish alone,
And none remain to know the place.
Gunnar and Hogni hid the gold just as the wise woman had said, and went on to Atli's court where both met their fate, and so the gold hoard cursed by Andvari the dwarf, the gold that had been the bane of all who held it, was lost forever to the eyes of men.
1. The Lay of Signy Volsungsdottir 8. The Lay of Regin
2. Farmaguth
3. Sigrun and Helgi
4. The Song of the Nuthatches
5. Hogni and the Water Sprites
6. Brynhild's Final Request
7. Brynhild's Hel Ride
This poem is translated from "The Short Lay of Sigurd," which is actually quite a long poem. This passage, which ends the poem, is the dying Brynhild's request that she be cremated at the side of Sigurd, though she was largely responsible for his murder at the hands of her husband Gunnar, and his brother Hogni.
