Monday, August 22, 2011

Friðrek drápa inn Frisi, Part Three (UPDATED August 26!)

In this section, there are two main events.  The first two verses tell of Cooper's Lake and the great battles that Frederick fought there, particularly the year he fought in two tournaments at once.  The second section speaks of festive parties at his house in Buffalo, where he taught for two (?) years.  I've interpolated a tale told me about a frozen clove lemon. (The cloven fruit game is a kissing game --- when you give the fruit to a person, he or she pulls a clove from the fruit.  The forfeit is a kiss.) In this case a frozen fruit was given to Frederick by a pretty girl with the thought that he would be unable to pull a clove loose.  Instead, he dispatched it by biting into the lemon, sending the young lady running away in mock horror.

Anyway, the verses are followed by translation.  If you missed the first two sections of the Friðrek drápa inn Frisi, they are here and here.  The fourth and final section will be posted later this week.

You can here this section of the poem HERE.

Enjoy!

Siglt of uppdal stag lautr
sildar Traundle strauma.
Telgjaðr drekka tiginn
tirar flótti þinga.
Brennu höggorms byrskíð
buðkr á fjördr blákaldar.
Mikil-sigr vannt á móti
merglauss þar reyfara

Hafðr til bloði heljar
(Hreggskomir í hænar)
hundruð gráskegg hjalmôru
(höslur innan hólmi).
Hrafna-gælir handsterkr
hólmstað bykis reist;
lifa á hræs lanar
lastauð ulfr sakaðar.

Hvernig sýna hæstu
heimill liege minna
elskandi hlatur eilifr
ölsöng sunginn fulla.

Söngur hávað ok sœtt
skjalfrað þafstöng gallharð.
Fors horna inn fœtar
flaug-gniesta hrœða.
kinn-roði meyjar kembda
karr ok ertað karlar.
Dróttir segjað drengr
drykkja mildi mikill.

Snúa afleið sæt-ligr
skorðar silki borða;
gleyning ok gamanligr
galsi inn yðr halla.
Mildligr ok munligr
mayjar á þu færa
fagr gull-aldin fádœmi
freiðinn ok bitr-kryddað.

Gaddfrosinn beit gersemi
götvar Iðuns Gríska;
negull  kaldir naglar
hnykðir upp með jarn-tönn.
Meyjar kinn-roðr móður
mykrblar flýja kyrtill
hreimar glymjaði höll
heimskr ulf-brosa eltu

You sailed the ox of the hollows of the herring [SHIP] Trundle across inland streams.  You carved the Dragon’s fleet high born.  You burned  the viper’s breeze-skis [SHIPS] at the cooper’s black-waved fjord.  You won a great victory against the marrowless pirates there.

You, a storm-cutter [EAGLE] among hens inside the battlefield-poles,  put to bloody death hundreds of grey beard helm-envoys [WARRIORS].  You rise on the cooper’s fields, strong-handed raven-feeder [WARRIOR].  The  vicious wolf feeds on the pile of your foes’ corpses.

Bring us home, my liege, to you, Sing the old ale-songs with loud loving laughter.

Sweet loud songs shook the rock-ribbed roof-beams.  The Waterfall of horns [MEAD] fueled foot-spark-showers [DANCING].  Blushing maidens combed their curls and teased the men-folk.  The good folk speak of your very generous feasts.

Sweet silken Embroidery props [WOMEN] you hunted and charmed.  Mirthful and playful, they frolicked in your hall. Mild and pleasant maidens brought you the finest golden-fruit sharp spiced and frozen.

You bit into Idun's hard-frozen treasured jewel [CLOVE LEMON] from Greece; the cold cloves you pulled up with iron teeth.  Blushing maidens fled to their mother's dark blue skirts; their squeals echoed through the hall.  Your joking wolfish grin chased them.

No comments:

Post a Comment