Showing posts with label Thescorre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thescorre. Show all posts

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Songs for Wolves!

Hi, there. I'm sort of between verses (got two or three more to go on the latest poem, then polishing and revision). So, here are a couple of SCA-related songs I've written. As a brief explanation, I live in the Barony of Thescorre, which is located in the Rochester, NY, area ("Thescorre" being an anagram of "Rochester"). The Kingdom (or regional group) we belong to is the Kingdom of Aethelmearc. The Kingdom to the North of us is Ealdormere (the Province of Ontario). We often jibe good-naturedly about the Great Lakes as the Inland Seas, and dispute over who owns them. And, we are presently engaged in The Great Aethelmearc-Ealdormere Cross-Border Bardic Tiff and Colour War which began here.

These two songs, in English (as Old Norse can be as hard as Korean), feature the Baron of Thescorre (which has three ravens on its arms) repelling an invasion of the Grey Wolves of Ealdormere. It seems that such mockery has caused some folks to go a bit nuclear, and to threaten us with their verbal missiles.

I hope that you'll enjoy the results of our bardic conclave.

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Wolves Song # 1
(The Foxes Song)
Wolves Song # 2
(The Grey Wolves Song1)
The wolves came down to sing one night
They gathered in a circle in the pale moonlight
The other creatures fled in fright
As the wolves put up their howl, oh
foul-o, growl-o
The other creatures fled in fright
as the wolves put up their howl-o

They bayed at the man who sat in the moon
While the dog ducked out with a cow and spoon
Then they boarded a boat on the lake with the loons1
and they crossed the Inland Seas-o
freeze-o, please-o
they boarded a boat on the lake with the loons
and they crossed the Inland Seas-o

The wolves struck sails and manned the oars
Til they beached their boat on a rocky shore
For they had come to High Thescorre
Where the ravens rule the roost-o
Loose-o, goose-o
For they had come to High Thescorre
Where the ravens rule the roost-o

The Grey Wolves formed up nice and neat
All spiffed out from their ears to their feet
For they had come to steal some meat
And they were counting ku-o2
one-o, two-o
For they had come to steal some meat
And they were counting ku-o

The Raven chief was Bobby Dubh3
The wolves all called him the Raven Boob
But the Ravens knew he was nobody's noob
When his armor he strapped on-o br> on-o, Don-Ho
But the Ravens knew he was nobody's noob
When his armor he strapped on-o
The Raven troops stood to the fray
The archers's arrows found their prey
Soon the mighty grey wolves scurried away
With new feathers in their bums-o
some-o, dumb-o
And the mighty grey wolves scurried away
With new feathers in their bums-o

Away they scampered, the puppies tamed
Back across the puffin plain4
Long on lyrics, but short on brains
And the Ravens drank their beer-o
cheer-o, hero-o
Long on lyrics, but short on brains
And the Ravens drank their beer-o

So to Ealdormere, let this lesson be
Don't come across OUR Inland Seas
Don't look to raid our ku & sheeps
Or your ending will be grim-o
Slim-o, trimmed-o
Don't look to raid our ku & sheeps
Or your ending will be grim-o
CHORUS:

For we sail cross our inland seas
Come to the Grey Wolves' hall on the breeze
Yes, we sail cross our inland seas
To visit the grey wolves, may we sit down please?

We sit in our mead hall, as your ease you take
Your singing and yelling, they keep us awake
You drink and carouse, as your thirst you slake!
We work in the morning, you hosers!
Would you please pipe down, fer Chrissake!

CHORUS

We are simple farmers of mutton and ku
Your cattle are lowing, we hear your ku moo
If you do not want them, we will take home a few
Thanks for the sheep and the critters
We'll sell cheeze and milk back to you
CHORUS

We're rowing our ships as this ditty we sing
We have flaming grenades to toss from our slings
Because you have no doorbell for our King to ring
Your city walls seem to be burning
You're lucky - marshmellows we bring

CHORUS

Your Aethelmearc cousins have come home to roost
We bring back the ravens your grey wolves have loosed
As we're hunting for loons, beaver, and squirtlemoose2
We hope you like our Southern comfort
It may give your spirits a boost!

CHORUS TWICE


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Wolves Song # 1

1 - loons - Ealdormereans, from the totemic bird on their money.
2 - ku - cattle/cows from the Old Norse kus, kus! cow, cow! a milkmaid's call and the English moo! moo!.
3 - Bobby Dubh - "Black Bobby" from the names of the three ravens on Thescorre's banner: Hugin, Munin, and, of course Bob.
4 - puffin plain - a kenning for the sea.

Wolves Song # 2

1 - The Grey Wolves Song - The original melody for this Wolves Song is the iconic The Wolves Song written by Master Hector of the Black Height.
2 - squirtlemoose - the product of the genetic experiments in Great White Northern Cross-Breeding. Behold the Mighty Squirlemoose!



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Like Them? Hate Them? Ready For CROSS-BORDER BARDIC RUGGERS?


Please leave a comment below or send me e-mail. Thank you!

Friday, March 15, 2013

Saleem drápa goðinn (Drápa for Saleem the Chieftain)

Again, I am writing about a dear friend. Saleem ibn Alefan was the second Baron of Thescorre and has been a marshall (trainer of fighters) in our Barony for many years. Today, he is fighting a brave battle with cancer. This is written for him. Once again, this erfidrápa is premature, and again I pray that both he and my readers live for a very long time.

The form is Ljóðaháttr:
The ljóðaháttr stanza typically contains six lines or two units of three lines each. The first two lines in each unit are connected by alliteration, and the third is also decorated with alliteration. The first two lines have at least two beats and the third three beats.
Source: (http://www.trobar.org/prosody/pnort.php)

You will note that many of the verses in the body of the poem are repeating. The first parts of these verses are largely based on the HÁVAMÅL (The Counsel of Óthinn the One-Eyed) edited and translated by Jackson Crawford.

The recordings will be added in the next few days.

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Saleem drápa goðinn (Drapa for Saleem the Chieftain)
Old Norse Verses Poetic Translation
Stef:

Skeggjaðr herra
stǫndum prúðliga
snarr svanbekkjar sól
gunngjóð spjotar
góma fólkið
leyfa láðvǫrðr lunda gunnborðs.

Visur:

Heyr þu spakræður
ef sækir mundu
af randa hreggbjóðr
Opts gott þat es gamlir kveða;
opt ýr skơrpum belg
skilin orð koma;

Nú heyrþu orð skaldins
hárra, gamla ok tannlaussa
allþơrf ýta sonum,
heill sás kva.
heill sás kann,
njóti sás nam,
heilir þeirs hlýddu.

(stef)

Sifjum es þá blandat
hverr es segja ræðr
einum allan hugaldr.
Svá með hann -
goða hrafnar -
beztrar vináttu ok helztrar.

Sifjum es þá blandat
hverr es segja ræðr
einum allan hugaldr.
Svá með hann -
hærra þegn prúðr
hlut fríðmǫnnum hafi gefit.

(Stef)

Fróðr sá þykkisk
es fregna kann
ok segja it sama.
Svá með hann -
ráðsmann síðgóðan
launtals skjólsman slæligan.

Fróðr sá þykkisk
es fregna kann
ok segja it sama.
Svá með hann -
Grœðir vísdóms
er hrafnsheim til vigafar fylgir.

Fróðr sá þykkisk
es fregna kann
ok segja it sama.
Svá með hann -
herra hniplings,
ríkismanna raðunautr.

(Stef)

Lifa með drengskap
allt líf þín
ok vil skylfi nipt Fenris að nema þú
Svá með hann -
rǫskvast Hrafnsgóði
fyrst til hríðar Fróða.

Lifa með drengskap
allt líf þín
ok vil skylfi nipt Fenris að nema þú
Svá með hann -
Grimmast gjóða
Fíðrirjóðr Yggjar.

(Stef)

Esat maðr alls vesall
þótt hánn sé illa heill -
sumr es af frændum sæll,
Svá með hann -
lindar línu
fríðill ok vin ljúfastr.

Esat maðr alls vesall
þótt hánn sé illa heill -
sumr es af frændum sæll,
Svá með hann -
álptar-blíða
dóttir ástúðligast.

Esat maðr alls vesall
þótt hánn sé illa heill -
sumr es af frændum sæll,
Svá með hann -
Fygja fast són
djárfastr ok bezt hugaðr.

(Stef)

Glaðr ok reifr
skyli gumna hverr
unz sinn bíðr bana.
Svá með hann -
á Dauði segir
orð sætastu ok hvatastu.

Glaðr ok reifr
skyli gumna hverr
unz sinn bíðr bana.
Svá með oss -
Láta lærið
frá lífi honum vega dugnaðar.

(Stef)
Refrain:

Bearded chieftain
bravely stands
hero of the swan´s bench sun.
Palate spears of people
praise the land-keeper
leader of the shield trees.

Verses:

Hear you wisdom
if seek you would
of the bringer of the shield storm.
wisdom dwells in old men's hearts;
oft from gray-beards
wise words come.

Hear you words
of the hoary skald,
old and toothless, all for men's good.
Health to you who speak them,
Health to you who know them,
Joy to you who learn them,
Health to you who hear them.

(Refrain)

Men are friends
when they can share
their minds' fruit without fear.
Thus with him -
Raven's Chieftain,
of all comrades best and truest.

Men are friends
when they can share
their minds' fruit without fear.
Thus with him -
to men of peace the brave thegn
his greatest share has given.

(Refrain)

He seems wise
who knows the answer
and knows how to explain it.
Thus with him -
counselor honest -
well-versed secret keeper.

He seems wise
who knows the answer
and knows how to explain it.
Thus with him -
Wisdom-feeder
Ravenhome's war-leader.

He seems wise
who knows the answer
and knows how to explain it.
Thus with him -
pelican-lord gentle
counsellor of Kings.

(Refrain)

Live with bravery
all thy life
and Hel will fear to seize you.
Thus with him -
brave Raven´s leader
first to the storm of Fróði.

Live with bravery
all thy life
and Hel will fear to seize you.
Thus with him -
osprey feeder
Yggjar's feather reddener

(Refrain)

Soul-wretched is no man
even if he weakens -
men find happiness in their kin.
Thus with him -
of head-dress linden -
dearest friend and lover.

Soul-wretched is no man
even if he weakens -
men find happiness in their kin.
Thus with him -
of swan's grace lovely-
dearest friend and father.

Soul-wretched is no man
even if he weakens -
men find happiness in their kin.
Thus with him -
of scion stout-heart -
dearest friend and father.

(Refrain)

Man should also
cheerful be,
till certain death comes for him.
Thus with him -
to Death speaks he
sweetest words and bravest.

Man should also
cheerful be,
till certain death comes for him.
Thus with us -
Let us learn
from his life valor´s ways.

(Refrain)


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Kennings Used

svanbekkjar sól > sun of the swan's bench > sun of the river > GOLD
spjotar góma > spears of the palate > TONGUES
Láðvǫrðr > land-keeper > BARON
gunnborðs > shield trees > WARRIORS

hreggbjóðr > shield-storm > WAR
randa hreggbjóðr > bringer of the shield-storm > WARRIOR
hugaldr > mind fruit > THOUGHTS
goða hrafnar > raven's chieftain > THESCORRE BARON
Grœðir vísdóms > wisdom feeder > COUNSELLOR
hrafnsheim > ravens' home > THESCORRE
vigafar fylgir > war-way leader > CHIEFTAIN
herra hniplings > pelican-lord > COMPANION OF THE PELICAN
ríkismanna raðunautr > king's man wisdom-bringer > COUNSELLOR
nipt Fenris > sister of Fenris > HEL
Hrafnsgóði > raven's chieftain > THESCORRE BARON
hríðar Fróða > storm of Fróði > WAR
Grimmast gjóða > osprey feeder > WARRIOR
FíðrirYggjar > feathers of Yggjar > feathers of Odin >RAVEN
Fíðrirjóðr Yggjar > reddener of the feathers of Yggjar > WARRIOR
lindar línu > linden of the head-dress > WOMAN, WIFE
álptar-blíða > swan's grace > MAIDEN, DAUGHTER
Fygja fast són > scion stout-heart > BRAVE SON

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Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Hrafnars ýr (Ravens' yews)

In the Barony of Thescorre (located in Rochester, NY), we have excellent archers. In celebration of these fine folk, I wrote the following poem. It involves an attack by certain raiders from the Kingdom of Ealdormere and how they are repelled by the brave archers of the Barony. From what I understand, this  poem may well start a bardic war with our friends from across the Inland Seas.

If so, while I may perish, I will struggle to the end. To wit,


"HAVE AT YOU, WOLVES OF THE BREED!"

====================

                
Hrafnars ýr

Fram norðt vargsfjǫll fimvig
fjándr sigla svandalir;
nautfé kaupangs unýtast
níðings-sunnar rifsa
gangandi til gunnar
geirviðir af myrkskógi -
akraspillir ekrum
undír traðkað sunnhreinn.

Athos goði ýskelfir
ættfólk kallar snjallast:
Virkismenn varðatu
vals Yggs heim með hagl skóds.
Á barna gylðis berbeinn
bogaþruma dundu!
Með undreyr svartast svǫrrblóð
svíneyg ulfgrár dreiftu!

Svara ýglǫð Eadmund
enski : Bogar bendum
svarttyrf hrafnars sverjum
með skirir Hǫgna firra!
þrir skora bog-menn þermsligr
þrymu Ullar fljúgask.
Hergaupur harki
hagli Finna vinna.

Nóttfǫrullars norðr
nóra hlaunnar ǫrbursti.
Flyja dreypandi frenjar
til festa gaula hestr.
Of vǫll lunda válandi
vargmenn sigǫrs targa;
rekald vargham Roaks
hrylla til heim sigla.
The Ravens' Yews

War-skilled fiends from wolf-fells
northern sail swan-dales;
niðings-bastards pillage
townfolk's useless cattle.
Spear trees from dark woods
marching to battle -
destroyers of fields
trample sun-bright acres.

Athos bow-shaker, chieftain,
calls to his best kinsfolk:
Yeomen, Yggs gull's homeland
defend with weapons hail!
On Gyldis's-bastards bare-legged
rain down your bow-thunder!
With blackest blood-birds' wound-reeds
scatter swine-eyed grey-wolves!"

Edmund yew-glad English
answered: Bend we bows -
Raven´s black-turf we swear
to defend with Hogni's showers! "
Three score fittest bow-men
Join in Ullar´s Thunder;
Rabble of war-lynxes
suffer Sami's hail.

Little northern night-thieves'
buttocks arrow-bristle.
They flee to mooring-horses
dropping cattle lowing.
Across the plain of puffins
wolfmen – war-shafts targets;
Roak’s wolfish jetsam
horrid sail homeward.
====================


Kennings Used

svandalir > swan's dale > SEA
níðings-sunnar > níðings sons > RAIDERS
geirviðir > spear trees > WARRIORS
akraspillir > destroyers of fields > WARRIORS

vals Yggs > gulls of Ygg > RAVENS
vals Yggs heim > gulls of Yggs home > THESCORRE
barna gylðis > Gyldis's bastards > RAIDERS
bogaþruma > bow-thunder > ARROWS
undreyr svartast svǫrrblóð > blackest bloodbirds' wound-reeds > blackest ravens' wound-reeds > ARROWS
ulfgrár > grey wolves > RAIDERS

skirir Hǫgna > Hogna's showers > ARROWS
þrymu Ullar > Ullar's thunder > BATTLE
hagli Finna > Sami's hail > ARROWS

Nóttfǫrullars > Night thieves > RAIDERS
festa gaula > mooring horses > SHIPS
vǫll lunda > plain of puffins > SEA
sigǫrs targa victory (or war) shafts targets> arrows' targets > RAIDERS
rekald vargham Roaks > Roak's wolfish jetsam > RAIDERS


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Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Hrafnar Syngja

So, here it is, late June, and I haven't posted in like forever. It has been busy and I have been very distracted by life. Still, things have been in my mind and one of them escaped that dark black pit of despair recently.

As most of you know by know, I'm a resident of the Barony of Thescorre, in the Kingdom of Æthelmearc. The barony's heraldry is "Argent, on a pall azure between three ravens volant sable, a laurel wreath Or."

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In the lore of the barony, the ravens have been named: Hugin, Munin, and Bob (!) - the third raven who does what the other two think of and recall. As the newly appointed Baronial skald, I see it as my duty to instruct the folk of the ravens and how they sing. Thus, the latest poem.

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Old Icelandic Verse Prose Translation
Stef:

Vargǫld syngdu virðiligr
valir axlar aldinn.
Morðarákefð merkvalds
magnið sárgǫgl bragir.

Vísur 1 (af Hugin)

Hugrenning þin hagrádr
hjálms gný aptr kallað:
Ráðagǫrð af róðrvíd
reiðar at leiðadu.
Dýfjarðar fyrðar
fljúgask með tré-konung:
með spakleik þin siklingr
slagr gefa dólgmann.

Verse 2 (af Munin)

Aldinn draumar íllir
ǫrlǫgs brenna knorr-muns
orras hjaldrs eyrendi -
aptir dagstingr minna.
Gefa hásæt gjafar -
gnýr minna fyr dýjarl;
Gefa þiljur gjafar -
geira-mun fyr herjar.

Verse 3 - (af Svart-Rob)

Flǫgrað vígstars fljúga
fjarri ofan merkjum.
Dýfolk fylgdu dagfar
djarfum á gnýs darra.
Drukk af fors horn drekis
drógdu þeima heima;
Sennu vápna syngdu -
sælligr með dýfolk hlæðu.
Stef:

Sing of ancient age of wolves,
worthy hawks of the shoulder.
Best of wound-gulls, you raise
mark-guards' slaughter-rashness.

Verse 1 (about Hugin):

Wise-counselor, your mind's wandering
calls after helmets' din:
Lead you the raiders
to blood-storm counsel-taking.
The warriors of the bog-fjord
fly to battle with Tree-King;
With your wise-play the king
gives his foes defeat.

Verse 2 (about Munin):

Ancient dreams of evil's
doom burn the mind´s ship;
The battle´s blackcock´s errand -
be-minded after day's sting.
Give gifts of din-dreams
to Bog-lord in high-seat
Give gifts of spear-thought
to warriors on benches.

Verse 3 (about Black-Bob):

Fly far above slaughter-
starling's banner fluttering.
Guide the bog-folk bold
on the spear-roar´s journey.
Lead them homeward
drunk on dragon's-horn-wave;
Sing of weapon-quarrels
Laugh with bog-men happy!
=================================================




================================================== 

Kennings Used

NOTE: As you know, if you read my blog often, a kenning is a specialized form of metaphor. Ordinarily, I would refer to Thescorre as hrafna heim "Ravens' Home", but in this case, I've changed the base noun to "bog" after the old description on Thescorre as the Barony of the Bog.

Stef:

Vargǫld > age of wolves > WAR
valid axlar > Hawks of shoulder > RAVENS
Morðarákefð > slaughter-rashness > BRAVERY

Verse 1:

Hugrenning > mind's wandering > THOUGHTS
hjálms gný > din of helmets > BATTLE
Ráðagǫrð > counsel-taking > ADVICE, PLANNING
róðrvíd > blood-storm > BATTLE
Dýfjarðar > bog-fjord > THESCORRE (Barony of the Bog)
tré-konung > Tree King > KING OF ÆTHELMEARC
spakleik > wise-play > WISDOM
dólgmann > enemy-men > FOES

Verse 2:

knorr-muns > ship of mind > MEMORY
orras hjaldrs > battle's blackcock > RAVEN
dagstingr > day-sting > DAWN
gnýr minna > din's memory > BATTLE
dýjarl > bog-earl > THESCORRE BARON
geira-mun > spear-memory > BATTLE

Verse 3:

vígstars > slaughter-starling > RAVEN
Dýfolk > bog-army > THESCORRE ARMY
dagfar > day-faring > JOURNEY
gnýs darra > spear roar > BATTLE
fors horn drekis > dragon's horn-wave > BLOOD
Sennu vápna > weapon-quarrel > BATTLE




===========================


In other news, this past weekend, Their Majesties of Æthelmearc, Andreas and Kallista, gave me a writ for elevation to the Order of the Laurel. This document orders me to appear before Their Majesties to be inducted into the order, which is the highest order our "medieval recreation" group offers in the Arts and Sciences. It is a great honor and I thank Their Majesties for Their generosity.




===========================


So, please comment on the poem. I'd appreciate any comments you have.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Geirþeyr (Spear Storm)

This poem is a revision of Vigþeyr which I wrote last year. As I noted in a post not too long ago, the main improvements lie in the stef which is now in true runhendr, in the rhyme schemes which have been tightened, and in the grammar, which I believe has been much improved.

As this is a significantly longer poem than most of my efforts, I know it's difficult to get a grasp on in a blog reading. Because of this, I'm putting it up as a pdf which you can download and read at your leisure. Also, there is a recording you can listen to.

The poem itself is designed as a call to war for the seven baronies of our Kingdom. I hope that many will choose to read it.

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As always, your comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated,

Saturday, July 2, 2011

THE NEW PROJECT

Ok.  I promised that I'd give you the first part of THE NEW PROJECT™ as soon as I finished it.  Well, given that nothing is ever truly finished, here it is.  This is an attempt at writing a piece of a prose saga, a þættr (short story), if you like.  It is very loosely based on the early days of the four shires in Western New York and Pennsylvania, or the Western Regions: the Debateable Lands, Thescorre, the Rhydderich Hael, and Myrkfaellin.  Please note that I said very loosely.  Thus its names: Fylkis saga vestrmarki  "The Saga of the Shires of the West-Marches".  The notion is that we find most OI verse interpolated and inserted into prose passages.  So, this is an attempt to shows what that would look like.  Actually, in a manuscript, it would look like this: GKS 1009 folio 5r with the verse written like prose.

My two greatest fears are: first, I got the vocabulary wrong.  Idiomatic language can be rough.  Second, and greatest, that I completely got the grammar wrong.  If you read OI and can help me with gentle commentary and correction, I'll greatly appreciate and gratefully accept it.

So, here you go, first in my attempt at OI; then, in English.


Fylkis saga vestrmarki  Chapter One (Fyrstr Kapital )

Langt síðan, það bar til að það var strííð á meðai inn fykis vestrmarkar ok reyfarar. Inn máttkar fyrðar af Hrafn-heim ok fylkingar Hala-stjarna ok is-drekki her-lið gnáttu með inn kussarar.  Hræs lanar hlaðit.  Úlfar hákku ok hrafnar háfu sam-drykkja.  Fengu úsigr fylkis-folk.   Válandi fólka heyrði megin konungr austan-verðr.  Sín drottning syrgði af angist þeirra.  Sendi inn konungr sín goðr riddari leggja á grið ok frið.  Þannig var það að Friðrekr mattkar siglað til vestrmark. Svá inn gamli segir:

1. Friðrek ræsir fremð inn
frið-skjöldri gráskegg vissin
haf-skip siglir  hlyðir 
humra til Austur rumlend.
Metendr leiða morgum
morðáls til villi-borgar;
öskranfossdœl ásetta
ískaldr reista dísasalr.

2. Siglt of uppdal stag lautr
sildar Traunda strauma.
Telgjaðr drekka til-eygðr
tingls-marr gulla þinga.
Barða höggorms byrskíð
bakað á fjördr blákald.
Mikil-sigr vannt á móti
merglauss þar reyfarar

Flyði á skipgengum höf til vesturs lendir reyfarar bautinn, meðan Friðrekr setja í brandr þorpar þeirra.  Frið-görvir drengi-ligr inn þrið-fylkis sam-einaði ok af þeirra fólk-tjaldum  ein fylkingarr-brodd flykaut.  Inn fylkis-fólk sinn gagni faginn ok báðu Frederick þeirra konung.  Svá skaldi segir:

3. Pruðr, vask með þér, þjóðann, 
þat haust frá komt austan; 
einn, stillir, mátt alla 
jǫrð hegna, svá fregnið; 
himin þóttisk þá heiðan 
hafa, es landa krafðir, 
ljos-bera, ok lifðir, 
landfolk tekit hǫndum.

Hann ferðaðist síðan fótgangandi ok á hestbaki.  Hann könnuðu hæðum oc dala,  eptir-leitan fyrir einn huldu-fanz af eldr-sǫgu.  Eptir marg-nátta, hann fundinn einn myrkfælsdala innan grœn-holt oc vatna-djúp.  Þar lifði folk all-froðu.  Þau hlýðusk á konunginn oc kom þat ásamt með þeim.  At þessu, svörðu hollustu-eiðr á Friðrek konung.   Fyrstr-konunginn var mönnum mikil öfuss á því.

Hann siglt sex í norðr, upp lœkar oc þjóðár, til haf inn-landi, oc skip-farað til sinn heim.  Loks heim, einn mikill fagnaðar-öl þeir fagnað þat allir ok sérhverir drekkað eitt öldr.  Friðrek var hjarta-prúðast konnunga.  Svá inn gamli segir:

4. 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.

Translation:

Long ago, it happened that there was strife between the Western-forest shires and pirates.  The mighty firth of Raven-home, the Tail-Star army, and the Ice-Drake troops clashed with the Corsairs.  Corpses piled grew.  Wolves gorged and ravens caroused.  The shire-folk suffered. The mighty king of the Eastern Lands heard the people´s wailings.  His queen mourned for their anguish. The king sent his good knight to impose truce and peace.  Thus it was that might Frederick sailed to the West-march.  As the ancient skald says:

(Verse 1) Grizzled grey-beard Frederick the "Peace-Shield" advancer of honor, you sailed the warship from the lobster-slopes [OCEANS] to the Eastern lands.  You lead many testers of the battle eel [SWORD > WARRIORS] to the wild hills; you settled in the ice-cold valley of the roaring waterfall; you built a temple.

(Verse 2) You sailed the ox of the hollows of the herring [SHIP] Trundle across inland streams.  You carved the squint-eyed Dragons golden fleet (tingls-marr-þinga > SHIP-THING > FLEET).  You beat  the vipers breeze-skis [SHIPS] roasted them at the black-waved fjord.  You won a great victory against the marrowless pirates 

The beaten pirates fled far over the inland seas to the west, while the Frederick put fire to their villages.  The brave “peace-maker” brought the three shire-folk together and made an army of their folk-bands.  The people rejoiced in his victory and proclaimed him their king.  As the skald says:

(Verse 3) Brave king, I was with you that autumn when you came from the East; lord, you alone can secure the entire country; that was heard.  The countrymen thought they caught bright heaven with their hands when you claimed the lands, Light-bearer, and were alive.

He then traveled by foot and horseback exploring the hills and dales, searching for a hidden tribe that was rumored in ancient tales.  Among the deep lakes and the green woods, he soon discovered the dark fells dale, where a learned people lived.  These folk heard of the great King and swiftly swore their fealty to him alone.  Frederick, the first king of these lands, was gladdened by this.

He returned to his own home, sailing north on the rivers to the Inland Seas.  Finally home, they held a great joyful feast and all came.  Frederick was the most generous [Hjarta-prúðr  > Valiant hearted > Generous] of kings. As the old-one said:

(Verse 4) 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].


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Finally, a tip of the hat to Jackson Crawford, who is my inspiration to madness.  His most recent posting, Gunnar Fire-Iron, Skáld of the Wild West, is a very good attempt at writing poetry in an ON form.  You should go read it.