Friðrek drápa inn Frisi, Part One (UPDATED AUGUST 26!)

This poem was written to honor the man who fostered me into the SCA, Duke Frederick of Holland.  I presented it to him at the Pennsic War.  I will post it in four parts, over the next week or two.  A recorded version will be up as soon as I complete editing it.

The first section describes his arrival in our then very young part of the SCA (Western NY) and the impact he had on us.  As is traditional for a drápa, the poem begins with a refrain.  This refrain repeats before each section of the poem.

You can hear the poem here.

The translation of the Icelandic follows the section.

Friðrek drápa inn Frisi

Hvernig sýna hæstu

heimill liege minna

elskandi hlatur eilifr

ölsöng sunginn fulla.

Hlátur þinn að heyra

hlið komum með liege

Komum með heim kennar

kátliga þegnur tengda 

Vestan um haf vit-maðr

vitr spek færa nytful

Djupvitr færið daemum

drengliga upp syngja.

Forkunna grípu fræði

fætr at fræðimaðr.

Mart drengir þer mátu

mor-broður fleygi-maðr. 

Sal þin var upp sendir 

seima til al-beimar.

Veitir pella veizlan

val-born kema hábarð.

Hunangsbára hornar

heðra drakk í gleði.

Rota húfur roskinn

risnu-maðr hávaði.

Gladdi skaldur glaðr 

gramr  hátlíðir kátligr,

Gulla hyreti gjofull

gaf þau góðar gjafar

songvinn yngri skaldr

stamatunga namgipt

mannung spottað margir

málhalt fífill kallað

Tínir mærðar tóku

tala skald albliðlig:

gagl elska hvað gerir

ok gera það þú elskar.

stendur í dag stoltliga

stað-goðr öl-Yggsmað

“Hlydnað þú gull-hlifandi

Hlœgir mik fá gœzka.”

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

Your laughter leads us; liege, we come home. We come home, master, merry thanes to join you.

From the Western seas, wise-man, you carried useful wisdom.  Deeply wise, you brought brave lore you sang out loud.  The eager-to-learn [STUDENTS] grasped lore at your feet, learned man.  Many young folk praised you Uncle “Flying-man”.

Dispenser of gold [GENEROUS MAN] your hall was open to all men.  The well-born came to feast at your high-table, giver of costly materials [GENEROUS MAN].  Horns of honey waves [MEAD] <they> drank here in joy.  hospitable man you served ripe root-caps [MUSHROOMS].

Skalds entertained the cheerful king at joyous feasts.  The flinger of gold [GENEROUS MAN > KING] gave them good gifts.  One young skald called stammer-tongue sang.  Many mocked the youth, called him dull-tongue daffodil.

Gatherer of Glory [KING] took the skald and kindly told him: goose-bright,  love what you do - do what you love. Today the well-tempered Man of Ygg’s Ale [POET] proudly stands: “I obeyed you gold-protector [KING]; Now I am glad to grasp kindness.”