Baldr`s Dreams

Once were the gods     together met,

And the goddesses came     and council held.

And the far famed ones     the truth would find,

Why baleful dreams     to Baldr had come.

     Then Odin rose,     the enchanter old,

     And the saddle he laid     on Sleipnir`s back;

     Thence rode he down     to Niflhel deep,

     And the hound he met     that came from hell.

Bloody he was     on his breast before,

At the father of magic     he howled from afar;

Forward rode Odin,     the earth resounded,

Till the house so high     of Hel he reached.

     Then Odin rode     to the eastern door,

     There, he knew well,     was the wise–woman`s grave;

     Magic he spoke     and mighty charms,

     Till spell–bound she rose     and in death she spoke:

“What is the man,     to me unknown,

That has made me travel     the troublous road?

I was snowed on with snow,     and smitten with rain,

And drenched with dew;     long was I dead.”

     Odin spake:

     “Vegtam my name,     I am Valtam`s son;

     Speak thou of hell,     for of heaven I know:

     For whom are the benches     bright with rings,

     And the platforms gay     bedecked with gold?”

The Wise–Woman spake:

“Here for Baldr     the mead is brewed,

The shining drink,     and the shield lies o`er it;

But their hope is gone     from the mighty gods.

Unwilling I spake,     and now would be still.”

     Odin spake:

     “Wise–woman, cease not!     I seek from thee

     All to know     that I fain would ask:

     Who shall vengeance win     for the evil work,

     Or bring to the flames     the slayer of Baldr?”

The Wise–Woman spake:

“Rind bears Valli     in Vestrsalir,

And one night old     fights Odin`s son;

His hands he shall wash not,     his hair he shall comb not,

Till the slayer of Baldr     he brings to the flames.

Unwilling I spake,     and now would be still.”

     Odin spake:

     “Wise–woman cease not!     I seek from thee

     All to know     that I fain would ask:

     What maidens are they     who then shall weep,

     And toss to the sky     the yards of the sails?

The Wise-Woman spake:

“Vegtam thou art not,     as erstwhile I thought;

Odin thou art, the enchanter old.”

     Odin spake:

     “No wise–woman art thou,     nor wisdom hast;

     Of giants three     the mother art thou.”

The Wise–Woman spake:

“Home ride, Odin,     be ever proud;

For no one of men     shall seek me more

Till Loki wanders     loose from his bonds,

And to the last strife     the destroyers come.”



Myths are the easiest way of seeking a way to the divine, and making sense of the unexplainable in a seemingly random, and chaotic world. Gods, goddesses and spirits reside in every nook and cranny of earthly existence, needing to be appeased, molly coddled and respected. The Norse Myths, perhaps, speak loudest to us because they are the most recent, and express every earthy, primal fear, love, loathing and emotional needs buried deep within the North European psyche. They are part of a shared heritage which makes us who we are; no one can truly understand the western world without first looking to the Sagas and their immeasurable impact upon western imagination and culture. Imperial Rome and the Germanic peoples who inherited the crumbling Imperium, and retained all of it`s basic concepts as the bedrock of their own future, are the Alpha, and the Omega of western civilisation; the Allfather, Thor, Loki, and all the other great  characters still live and breath, because of our inner need to take our place among them in the halls of Valhalla, where the brave may live forever…………


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