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Asatru Ring Frankfurt & Midgard
Living with the Gods. Living for the Gods. Living through the Gods.

The Poetic Edda Online
In the translation of Bellows 

Lays of the Gods
Atlakvitha en Grönlenzka

The Greenland Lay of Atli

Guthrun, Gjuki's daughter, avenged her brothers, as has become well known. She slew first Atli's sons, and thereafter she slew Atli, and burned the hall with his whole company. Concerning this was the following poem made:

1. Atli sent   of old to Gunnar
A keen-witted rider,   Knefröth did men call him;
To Gjuki's home came he   and to Gunnar's dwelling,
With benches round the hearth,   and to the beer so sweet.

2. Then the followers, hiding   their falseness, all drank
Their wine in the war-hall,   of the Huns' wrath wary;
And Knefröth spake loudly,   his words were crafty,
The hero from the south,   on the high bench sitting:

3. "Now Atli has sent me   his errand to ride,
On my bit-champing steed   through Myrkwood the secret,
To bid You, Gunnar,   to his benches to come,
With helms round the hearth,   and Atli's home seek.

4. "Shields shall ye choose there,   and shafts made of ash-wood,
Gold-adorned helmets,   and slaves out of Hunland,
Silver-gilt saddle-cloths,   shirts of bright scarlet,
With lances and spears too,   and bit-champing steeds.

5. "The field shall be given you   of wide Gnitaheith,
With loud-ringing lances,   and stems gold-o'er-laid,
Treasures full huge,   and the home of Danp,
And the mighty forest   that Myrkwood is called."

6. His head turned Gunnar,   and to Hogni he said:
"What thy counsel, young hero,   when such things we hear?
No gold do I know   on Gnitaheith lying
So fair that other   its equal we have not.

7. "We have seven halls,   each of swords is full,
(And all of gold   is the hilt of each;)
My steed is the swiftest,   my sword is sharpest,
My bows adorn benches,   my byrnies are golden,
My helm is the brightest   that came from Kjar's hall,
(Mine own is better   than all the Huns' treasure.)"

Hogni spake:
8. "What seeks she to say,   that she sends us a ring,
Woven with a wolf's hair?   methinks it gives warning;
In the red ring a hair   of the heath-dweller found I,
Wolf-like shall our road be   if we ride on this journey."

9. Not eager were his comrades,   nor the men of his kin,
The wise nor the wary,   nor the warriors bold.
But Gunnar spake forth   as befitted a king,
Noble in the beer-hall,   and bitter his scorn:

10. "Stand forth now, Fjornir!   and hither on the floor
The beakers all golden   shalt thou bring to the warriors.
.    .    .    .    .        .    .    .    .    .
.    .    .    .    .        .    .    .    .    .

11. "The wolves then shall rule   the wealth of the Niflungs,
Wolves aged and grey-hued,   if Gunnar is lost,
And black-coated bears   with rending teeth bite,
And make glad the dogs,   if Gunnar returns not."

12. A following gallant   fared forth with the ruler,
Yet they wept as their home   with the hero they left;
And the little heir   of Hogni called loudly:
"Go safe now, ye wise ones,   wherever ye will!"

13. Then let the bold heroes   their bit-champing horses
On the mountains gallop,   and through Myrkwood the secret;
All Hunland was shaken   where the hard-souled ones rode,
On the whip-fearers fared they   through fields that were green.

14. Then they saw Atli's halls,   and his watch-towers high,
On the walls so lofty   stood the warriors of Buthli;
The hall of the southrons   with seats was surrounded,
With targets bound   and shields full bright.

15. Mid weapons and lances   did Atli his wine
In the war-hall drink,   without were his watchmen,
For Gunnar they waited,   if forth he should go,
With their ringing spears   they would fight with the ruler.

16. This their sister saw,   as soon as her brothers
Had entered the hall,--   little ale had she drunk:
"Betrayed art thou, Gunnar!   what guard hast thou, hero,
'Gainst the plots of the Huns?   from the hall flee swiftly!

17. "Brother, 'twere far better   to have come in byrnie,
With thy household helmed,   to see Atli's home,
And to sit in the saddle   all day 'neath the sun,
(That the sword-norns might weep   for the death-pale warriors,
And the Hunnish shield-maids   might shun not the sword,)
And send Atli himself   to the den of the snakes;
(Now the den of the snakes   for thee is destined.

Gunnar spake:
18. .    .    .    .    .        .    .    .    .    .
"Too late is it, sister,   to summon the Niflungs,
Long is it to come   to the throng of our comrades,
The heroes gallant,   from the hills of the Rhine."

19. Then Gunnar they seized,   and they set him in chains,
The Burgundians' king,   and fast they bound him.

20. Hogni slew seven   with sword so keen,
And an eighth he flung   in the fire hot;
A hero should fight   with his foemen thus,
As Hogni strove   in Gunnar's behalf.

21. .    .    .    .    .        .    .    .    .    .
.    .    .    .    .        .    .    .    .    .
The leader they asked   if his life he fain
With gold would buy,   the king of the Goths.

Gunnar spake:
22. "First the heart of Hogni   shall ye lay in my hands,
All bloody from the breast   of the bold one cut
With ke-en-biting sword,   from the son of the king."

23. .    .    .    .    .        .    .    .    .    .
They cut out the heart   from the breast of Hjalli,
On a platter they bore it,   and brought it to Gunnar.

24. Then Gunnar spake forth,   the lord of the folk:
"Here have I the heart   of Hjalli the craven,
Unlike to the heart   of Hogni the valiant,
For it trembles still   as it stands on the platter;
Twice more did it tremble   in the breast of the man.

25. Then Hogni laughed   when they cut out the heart
Of the living helm-hammerer;   tears he had not.
.    .    .    .    .        .    .    .    .    .
On a platter they bore it,   and brought it to Gunnar.

26. Then Gunnar spake forth,   the spear of the Niflungs:
"Here have I the heart   of Hogni the valiant,
Unlike to the heart   of Hjalli the craven,
Little it trembles   as it lies on the platter,
Still less did it tremble   when it lay in his breast.

27. "So distant, Atli,   from all men's eyes,
Shalt thou be as thou   . . . . . from the gold.
.    .    .    .    .        .    .    .    .    .
.    .    .    .    .        .    .    .    .    .

28. "To no one save me   is the secret known
Of the Niflungs' hoard,   now Hogni is dead;
Of old there were two,   while we twain were alive,
Now is none but I,   for I only am living.

29. "The swift Rhine shall hold   the strife-gold of heroes,
That once was the gods',   the wealth of the Niflungs,

In the depths of the waters   the death-rings shall glitter,
And not shine on the hands   of the Hunnish men."

Atli spake:
30. "Ye shall bring the wagon,   for now is he bound."

31. On the long-maned Glaum   rode Atli the great,
About him were warriors       .    .    .    .    .
But Guthrun, akin   to the gods of slaughter,
Yielded not to her tears   in the hall of tumult.

Guthrun spake:
32. "It shall go with thee, Atli,   as with Gunnar thou heldest
The oaths ofttimes sworn,   and of old made firm,
By the sun in the south,   by Sigtyr's mountain,
By the horse of the rest-bed,   and the ring of Ull."

33. Then the champer of bits   drew the chieftain great,
The gold-guarder, down   to the place of death.
.    .    .    .    .        .    .    .    .    .

34. By the warriors' host   was the living hero
Cast in the den   where crawling about
Within were serpents,   but soon did Gunnar
With his hand in wrath   on the harp-strings smite;

The strings resounded,--   so shall a hero,
A ring-breaker, gold   from his enemies guard.

35. Then Atli rode   on his earth-treading steed,
Seeking his home,   from the slaughter-place;
There was clatter of hoofs   of the steeds in the court,
And the clashing of arms   as they came from the field.

36. Out then came Guthrun   to meeting with Atli,
With a golden beaker   as gift to the monarch:
"Thou mayst eat now, chieftain,   within thy dwelling,
Blithely with Guthrun   young beasts fresh slaughtered."

37. The wine-heavy ale-cups   of Atli resounded,
When there in the hall   the Hunnish youths clamored,
And the warriors bearded,   the brave ones, entered.

38. Then in came the shining one,       .    .    .    .    .
    .    .    .    .    .   and drink she bore them;
Unwilling and bitter   brought she food to the warrior,
Till in scorn to the white-faced   Atli did she speak:

39. "Thou giver of swords,   of thy sons the hearts
All heavy with blood   in honey thou hast eaten;
Thou shalt stomach, thou hero,   the flesh of the slain,
To eat at thy feast,   and to send to thy followers.

40. "Thou shalt never call   to thy knees again
Erp or Eitil,   when merry with ale;
Thou shalt never see   in their seats again
The sharers of gold   their lances shaping,
(Clipping the manes   or minding their steeds.)"

41. There was clamor on the benches,   and the cry of men,
The clashing of weapons,   and weeping of the Huns,
Save for Guthrun only,   she wept not ever
For her bear-fierce brothers,   or the boys so dear,
So young and so unhappy,   whom with Atli she had.

42. Gold did she scatter,   the swan-white one,
And rings of red gold   to the followers gave she;
The fate she let grow,   and the shining wealth go,
Nor spared she the treasure   of the temple itself.

43. Unwise then was Atli,   he had drunk to wildness,
No weapon did he have,   and of Guthrun bewared not;
Oft their play was better   when both in gladness
Each other embraced   among princes all.

44. With her sword she gave blood   for the bed to drink,
With her death-dealing hand,   and the hounds she loosed,
The thralls she awakened,   and a firebrand threw
In the door of the hall;   so vengeance she had.

45. To the flames she gave all   who yet were within,
And from Myrkheim had come   from the murder of Gunnar;
The timbers old fell,   the temple was in flames,
The dwelling of the Buthlungs,   and the shield-maids burned,
They were slain in the house,   in the hot flames they sank.

46. Now the tale is all told,   nor in later time
Will a woman in byrnie   avenge so her brothers;
The fair one to three   of the kings of the folk
Brought the doom of death   ere herself she died.

Still more is told in the Greenland ballad of Atli.

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