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,

A Teaser for "GeirÞeyr" (Spear-Storm)

This full poem will make its debut on May 5th at Crown Tournament in the Barony of Delftwood (Syracuse, NY). It is a revision of a previous drapa (long poem with refrain). The purpose of revision is improvement, of course; in this case, the improvement has generally been in rhyme scheme, especially the internal rhymes. However, the one verse you will get today is somewhat different. My original thought was to try a quick experiment in runhendr, a verse form with rhymed couplets. Looking back at this one verse, I understood that I had been only partially successful. I had rhyme, but it was only partial or loose rhyme, where runhendr calls for exact rhyme.

In browsing the Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages website, I came across a metre called dróttkvætt runhendr, which may be best described as a hybrid form, with dróttkvætt length lines and runhendr rhyme. Here is an example, a lausavisr (loose verse) written by Bjorn Kálfsson, in approximately 1182:

Fant sék hvern á hesti,
hér's nú siðr enn vesti,
(leið eigum vér langa)
en lendir menn ganga;
hirðmenn skulu hlaupa,
hér esat gótt til kaupa,
(munka mǫrgu kvíða),
en matsveinar ríða.

This verse mocks soldiers fleeing on foot from a battle, for having left their horses behind:

Prose Translation: I see every servant on a horse and the landsmen walking; now here's the worst habit; we have a long way to go. The retainers must run and the cooks are riding; there's no good bargain here; I'm not going to fear much.

You can see the regular line length, the presence of some alliteration (though not as strict as classic dróttkvætt metre) and the addition of the end-rhyme.

This is the metre I aimed at in my revision. Below you have the original verse, which was written in late Spring 2011, on the left and the revised version on the right. The prose translations follow the verses.

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Original Verse	Revised Verse
Rúni minna rekka rikis-faðirs sagna hug-runr Munin halda Hugin geirþey á-gætta holt-græn brynjar  hafta holt-græn riki heilsa Bil-seim fríðust blása Baldr-styr mattig beita	Rúni minna rekka fǫður Mímirs drekkja hugrúnar Munin halda geirþeyar Hugin skalda brynjar hafta holt-græn! riki heilsa holt-græn! Bil-seims fríðust beiddi ok bága ljóna leiddi

Original verse: Counselor of warriors remember your ancestors' lessons.  Munin holds wisdom and Hugin praises battle [geir-þey  “spear breeze” > BATTLE].  The Sylvan army [brynjar  “mail-shirts” > WARRIORS > ARMY] joins; The Sylvan realm salutes!  Fairest queen [Bil-seim “Goddess of gold” > QUEEN] inspires!  Mighty king [Baldr-styr “God of war” > KING] leads!

Revised verse: Counselor of warriors remember your ancestors' lessons [Mímirs drekkja “Mimir’s drink > Wisdom giant’s drink > WISDOM]. Munin holds wisdom and Hugin praises battle [geirþeyar “spear storms” > BATTLE]. The Sylvan army [brynjar “mail-shirts” > WARRIORS > ARMY] joins; The Sylvan realm salutes! Fairest queen [Bil-seims “Goddess of gold” > QUEEN] inspires! Mighty king [bága ljóna “Fighter of men" > KING] leads!

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The difference may seem subtle, but having the full rhymes makes a big difference in both appearance and sound. In this type of verse, form may trump meaning.

If you have comments or questions, you can leave them here, contact me at Facebook, or write me.

An Early Runhendr: The Four at the Bridge

Hej!

Here's a little "ditty" for you in English from the legend and lore of Æthelmearc!

THE FOUR AT THE BRIDGE

At Coopers pond our scene

On field hill great ravine

battles twixt warring foes

dragons come tigers go

dwarves elves, aetheling men

fight on hill, then in fen

two bridges they must cross

and from them foemen toss

Four heroes join the throng

dance to valkyrie’s  song

brave Boris, Haakon's kin

with Oak tree tall, then thin

green Morguhn, duke soon knight

young Willem, Fridriks wight

to fight at Pennsic war

a bridge to bathe in gore

To battle dwarvelords here

who rose from Calontir

our four men form a host

a half-tonne of pot roast

fiercesome  fighters four

who out-fought many score

whom many feared and yet

in battle they can't get

Thru spear storm’s din they stood

no action turned the mood

beneath the sun's harsh stare

they broil to pot roast rare

they glare at Calon herd

who at our heroes jeer

til thrice-king angry roared --

By Thor! His Grace was bored!

On three, charge! Morguhn said!

On three, Duke Morguhn lead!

thru Calon wall they sped

dwarves fell neath Willem's tread

Binder detached a head

Boris laid the dead to bed

surly sword-elves fled

Norns snipped their ghastly threads

Bodies from bridgehead flew

of hammer-dwarves and crew

three stout swordsmen tried

to gain brave Morguhn's side

then marshall's whistle shrilled

twas time to count the kill

whence from the corpse pile fell

came giggles straight from hell!

That pile our heroes tore

dead heads they tossed and more

to find His Grace they sped

whose laugh fills all with dread

Out Dead Things marshall cried

waked corpses moved aside

but Yngvar's Bane denied

raise blades... I've Not Yet Died!

Thrice-king rose without sound

took his stance, held the ground

foes fell from mortal wound

some bled stumbled swooned

til thirteen dwarvelords came

with arrows spears took aim

cowards felled brave duke

thus honor they forsook

Battle quit, bridge lay red

with raven wine from dead

treasure wasted armies fled

bloodswans songs bring dread

bloodstorm ends with many slain

corpses burn, across the plain

O'er blood fest ravens play

fast fried heroes...have it your way!

Even comes battles ends

armies leave, foes now friends

all dead risen head home

some to camp, some to roam

to beer and mead and songs

to spouses, cheering throngs!

Join me in beery toast

to half-tonne of pot roast!

NOTES:


This poem was written in 2008, before I moved on to Old Icelandic poetry.  It is written in an Old Icelandic form called runhendr, In Old Icelandic and eddaic poetry, end rhyme scheme is seldom  considered necessary.  Indeed, in drottkveitt, or Court Poetry, end rhyme is never used purposefully.  However, there is a form of poetry common to Iceland that does use end rhyme, runhendt (runnng rhyme).  In The Structure of Old Norse Drottkveitt Poetry, Kari Ellen Gade says:


"Not until the end of the tenth century, in Egil's [Skallagrimsson] "Hoflauðsen" [Head-Ransom] does end rhyme play a constitutive part in skaldic metrics.  This new meter, runhendr, which consists of lines with four syllables dispenses with the internal rhymes altogether and replaces it with end rhymes..... It is clear that runhendr meter represented a bold break with the established norms for the composition of skaldic poetry, and that this innovation was most likely the result of foreign [most likely English or Irish] influence.”


It should be noted that in the Prose Edda, Snorri Sturlusson identifies many different types of runhendr, including one with six syllables in a line.  While runhendr is unusual in Old Icelandic poetry, it is far more accessible to modern ears than dróttkvætt. [See my earlier posting for an example in Old Icelandic of this verse form]

This poem is the story of a true event at Pennsic 13 or so, when a line of four men: Boris Dragonsbane, Haakon Oaktall,  Morguhn Sheridan, and Wilfred Altmarker - charged through a Calontir shield wall & died gloriously.  It is ever so slightly embroidered, as such legends become over generations of the telling.  The next to last verse is partially borrowed from the Magnusdrapa, where the poet speaks of ravens pulling corpses from a burning house (fast fried corpses).  It was just too good to pass up.  In the poem, I have used fewer kennings than might be expected, in order to keep the flow of the narrative intact.  Among those used are: 

spear storm - battle 

Yngvar’s Bane - Morguhn Sheridan (for the classic battles between the two great knights of Æthelmearc)

bloodswans - ravens

bloodstorm - battle 

blood fest - battlefield

raven wine - blood

half tonne of pot roast - the line of four fighters who tipped the scales at just over 1100 pounds. 

Enjoy!

Fridrikr