Hwaet!
Strange things creep over the land;
Something ends and something starts
As the adder sun sloughs another skin.
Where now are the bones
Of Wayland the Wise,
That goldsmith
So glorious of yore?
Wayland the steadfast warrior knew what it was to be banished; he suffered miserably, his only messmates sorrow and heartache, and exile in the wintry cold. This was after King Nidhael had prisoned and pined him, had bound with supple sinew bonds a far better man.
But that passed off, and so may this.
Hamstrung Wayland limps over the barrow-land,
Sky-flamed his middle-earth smithy.
The Saxons came to a land all covered with trees,
And at once began to chop and clear,
And to break the heavy virgin soil of the valleys with ploughs;
Doom-hearted they viewed the giants’ strongholds,
Stone-built cities decaying in the rain,
Bleak home to frogs and bats,
And the straight paved roads, no work of man.
Wyrd had laid the mighty waste
For dishonouring the Mother.
Have you looked to the hills and seen a stalking stranger,
The bearded one in his long cloak, lost in low cloud?
Have you met him at the crossroads gallows?
Have you seen Old Grim glancing from under his hood,
Piercing your soul with his one good eye?
Have you seen a pair of ravens tumbling,
And heard wolves howling in the wood?
The adder came crawling and struck at none. But Woden took nine glory-twigs, and struck the adder so that it flew into nine parts.
This, our hearth, is Middle-earth
Girt by endless ocean
Wherein swims the almighty serpent
So huge he encircles us
And bites his own tail.
And in the sea’s edge mountains
Groaning giants dwell.
Wisdom falls from yew tree’s boughs;
Catch it in your hands and mouth.
Elfin old tree,
Be my witness;
Bless these runes as they fall.
Stout and swirling,
Riddling and gnarling,
Show your honeyed heartwood,
Full of bulls and horses.
Your thousand-year dreams
Are the roots of man.
Wood-web, tree-craft,
Weave breezes into words
And make me wise.
Woods of yore
Biggen the year.
Badger’s foot and weasel’s claw
Wear the greenwood track
Stoat’s eye and hare’s ear
Harrow the still.
Bracken’s quiver
Is moss’s creep
All shadow and shade.
Open the beech-book
And read.
The truth-tree blooms
For you and me.
Ash-tree,
Fly into the sky,
Look around
And stand your ground;
Wizard’s horse,
Ride the blue,
No storm shall fell
Your straight pride.
Maiden ashplant,
Whip the horse to gallop,
Whistle up brisk spirits in the air,
Keep horse and rider one.
The merest twig cocnbtains the tree.
Conduct the lightning
Down through me.
Evil ghosts try to unhorse me,
Their foul hands grapple
But cannot pull me off.
Maiden ash wand,
With you I draw a circle
That can bind snakes,
In you I trust
Against the sore bite,
Against the grim word,
Against the great dread
And against all evil that enters this land.
Swanskinned birch
Lovely-rough to the touch,
Witch-queen of the wild!
This cave or crossroads,
This mound or beck,
Marks a dragon’s lair.
By night the water
Seethes and hisses
At Grendel’s mere.
Drakes and wyrms
Infest the land,
Keepers of the edge.
Do you seek the wyrm-bed,
The treasure mound?
Follow earth’s kennings
To the word-hoard,
Dragon’s galdor.
Dawn to dawn,
Summer to summer,
Aeon to aeon,
The snake lives and dies.
Hallow your eyes
By the elf’s moonglow,
Wiser than life,
Than death.
What breathings are those
From high on rocks,
Flitting in treetops,
Stealing through undergrowth?
Chuckles and whistles,
Creatures of mist.
Be you shot in the skin,
In the blood
Or in the bone,
By god, witch or elf,
I shall heal you.
With vervain and henbane,
Wormwood,harewort and leek.
Mugwort, oldest of herbs,
Mighty against thirty and three,
Mighty against venom and elfen,
Mighty against the vile She who stalks through the land.
Through bones and dreams
I reckon moons
And in red dusk
My soul I trust,
For love is the lighting of fires.
Maytime and the thorn tree by the well,
Heavy with white blossom,
And scores of vivid ribbons and rags
Hang from the branches,
Crying for aid, for blessing.
The wizard
Spies into the well,
Whispers in the water’s ear,
Begging answers to his questions.
I have stared
Into the Well of Wyrd,
Listened a long while
At the High One’s door.
This is what I heard.
Magpie and jackdaw
Dive after glint;
Rook, crow and raven
Tear corpse-flesh to bone.
The air is thick with slaughter;
Kaah kaah kaah…
Huginn and Muninn
Fly back to Odin’s shoulders,
Bringing the world’s news
From flying an orbit.
Hear the crow’s omen
When he alights in your tree.
Does he sing of life
Or death?
Shapeshifter,
Shed your human pelt,
Don the boar’s helm,
The bearskin,
The horns of war.
Bear and boar
Divide the spoils.
Where fares your fetch
Dark sleeper
And what does it find?
Burgrune and scrying
Own the night.
In black hood
And bird-cloak
Carrying her staff
The seeress sits
Upon her high stool
To work with feather and stone.
Ents, orcs and thyrs
Walk the hills and valleys;
Their long shadows
Reach over all.
Out of Ymir’s flesh
Of fire and ice
The earth was fashioned
And from his gore the seas;
Mountaintops from his bones
Sky from his skull;
And from his brows the gods
Built Middle-earth;
And from his brains clouds.
Would you bind the wolf
Who likes so little to be bound?
With gossamer,
With gossamer.
A spider by night
Will take you in her web
To bridle and ride you
Beyond the moon.
No comments:
Post a Comment