I know that I hung | |
In the windcold tree | |
Nine whole nights | |
With hurt point | |
To Oden given | |
Self given to myself | |
In that tree | |
Which nobody knows | |
From which roots it ran | |
not given bread | |
They brought no horns | |
Saw down from the tree | |
Took up runes | |
Took them with screams | |
And down from the tree I fell | |
Nine magic songs I got | |
From the famous son of | |
Boltorn, Bestlas father | |
And a drink I got | |
Of precious mead | |
Poured by Odrere | |
Then I became vigorous | |
And got wise | |
Grew and felt well | |
Of word sought word | |
Me word again | |
Of work sought work | |
Me work again |