I know a tale, O sons of earth.
I speak it as I must.
Of how nine trees gave life to Worlds
That giants held in trust.
That was the first Age, Ymir’s time.
There was no land or sea.
Just void between two darknesses,
No stars by which to see.
Till Buri’s sons brought
Order From out of Chaos; light
From darkness; life from death
And shining day from night.
The Aesir came. On Ida’s plain
The new gods built their kingdom.
Here they raised their citadel, their courts,
Their seats of wisdom.
Gold they had in quantity
From the folk in World Below,
They shaped the fates of mortal men
And sealed their own, so long ago.
From the Alder and the Ash,
They fashioned the first Folk from wood.
One gave spirit; one gave speech;
One gave fire in the blood.
I know a mighty Ash that stands.
Its name is Yggdrasil.
It stands eternal, evergreen,
Growing over wisdom’s well.
I speak now of the Sorceress,
Gullveig-Heid, thrice-burned, thrice-born,
Seeress, mistress of the Fire
Vengeful, bloated with desire.
I speak of war, as now I must
Of war against the Aesir.
The Vanir, Gullveig’s kindred
Cry vengeance for their sister.
Odin flings his spear. Now war
Is fast unleashed upon us.
Asgard’s walls are broken down;
The Firefolk, victorious.
The Aesir meet in council.
But oaths are to be broken.
The Sorceress has done her work.
The Oracle has spoken.
But I see more. There Heimdall’s horn
Lies underneath the sacred tree.
In Mimir’s well, Allfather’s eye
Was forfeit. Will you hear me?
I see your fate, O sons of earth.
I hear the battle calling.
Odin’s folk prepare to ride
Against the shadows falling.
I see a branch of mistletoe
Wielded by a blind man.
This, the poison dart that slays
Asgard’s most beloved son.
I speak as I must. The funeral pyre
Sends smoke into the fading sky.
Frigg weeps bitter tears — too late,
Her son sits, silent, at Hel’s side.
I see one bound beneath the court,
Under the Cauldron of Rivers.
The wretch looks like Loki. His wife
Alone stands by him as he suffers.
I speak as I must. Three rivers converge
Upon the gods in their domain.
A river of knives from the east; from the north
And south, twin rivers of ice and flame.
I see a hall on the shores of Death.
Acrawl with snakes and serpents.
Netherworld, in which the damned
Await the time of judgement.
In Ironwood, the Witch awakes.
The Fenris Wolf will have his day.
His brothers howling at the skies
The sun and moon will be their prey.
Night will fall upon the Worlds.
Evil winds will howl and blow.
A void between two darknesses —
What more would Allfather know?
Now crows the golden cockerel
To call the Aesir to the foe.
And in the silent hall of Hel,
A soot-red rooster loudly crows.
The wolf at Hel’s gate howls. The chain
Is broken; Loki’s son runs free.
Ragnarók is come at last,
Chaos rides to victory.
Now comes the time of axe and sword;
Brother shall kill brother.
Now comes the time of wolves; the son
Will soon supplant the father.
Yggdrasil, the World Ash
Quakes where it stands. The Watchman
Sounds his horn. In Asgard,
Odin speaks with Mimir’s Head.
The wolf at Hel’s gate howls again.
Loki’s second son breaks free.
The World Tree falls; the Serpent writhes,
Lashing the waves in fury.
