Voluspá [Skaldic Version] [English translation]

Hearing I ask from all the tribes,

greater and lesser, the offspring of Heimdall;

Father of the Slain, you wished me well to declare

living beings’ ancient stories, those I remember from furthest back.

Early in time Ymir made his settlement,

there was no sand nor sea nor cool waves;

earth was nowhere nor the sky above,

a void of yawning chaos, grass was there nowhere

The sun turns black, land sinks into the sea,

the bright stars vanish from the sky;

steam rises up in the conflagration,

hot flame plays high against heaven itself.

Brother will fight brother and be his slayer,

sister’s sons will violate the kinship-bond.

The ancient tree groans and the giant gets loose,

Yggdrasill shudders, the tree standing upright.

Now Garm bays loudly before Gnipa-cave,

the fetter will break and the ravener run free,

much wisdom she knows, I see further ahead

to the mighty Doom of the Gods, of the victory-gods.

She sees, coming up a second time,

earth from the ocean, eternally green;

the waterfalls plunge, an eagle soars above them,

over the mountain hunting fish.

A hall she sees standing, fairer than the sun,

thatched with gold, at Gimle;

there the noble fighting-bands will dwell

and enjoy the days of their lives in pleasure.