Morgunn Í Grárri Vindhjálmars Þoku Við Berufjörð - Árstíðir Lífsins

Morgunn í grárri vindhjálmars þoku við Berufjǫrð

Kuldi læðist kringum garða mannanna sem sjást varla á jǫtna vegum;

steingerð lík jǫtnanna

Ávallt berja brims gamngr á strǫndinni ok sundvǫrpir brimi yfir svarta sanda

grunn

Einungis litlir bjarka myrkviðar hringir veita mǫnnum skjól

Annars rísa hallvallar hráleiki ok dǫkkgrænt jarðar hár

Vindrinn fleygir sverð-Njarðar randa blikum sínum inn í fjǫrðinn ok kǫld

vindhǫgg umkringja þorp

Þat gránar, þat gránar

Djúpa, langa skerja foldin vaknar meira ok meira til lífs ok sólin skín í

gegnum líflaus grá skýin

Skýin gráta til jarðar

Rigningin hamrar ok litar daginn gráan í lǫngum, endalaust lǫngum heimi hins

sama

Fyrsta augnablik nýs vetrtals

Kaldir, grábrúnir jǫtnar leggja ilkvisti sína í djúpið af Ymis blóði

Á fótum þeirra finnst eik, nýtt barr

Þat er ekki langt síðan hranna brjótr fylgdi bǫlgum sína leið til veraldar

ískǫldi ok brennisteinshita

Erfiðlega dvelja þar mennirnir enn

Vítt ok breitt finnast fyrstu ísa brots blómin milli hnignunar Marnars barna

Andstæður milli vors ok kaldra orms felli

Ek vakna ok frostna í ofbirtu

Mána systir svo skýr, blekkir ekki burtu kaldan vormorgun, vormorguninn þegar

nýtt líf reis frá móðurinni

The morning in the gray fog of a wind helmet at Berufjǫrð

The cold creeps around the gardens of the people, which are hardly visible on the roads;

petrified corpses of the giants

The surf is always beating on the beach and swimmers are throwing surf over the black sand

base

Only small rings of bright, dark wood provide shelter for people

Otherwise, the rawness of the halls and the dark green hair of the earth rise

The wind flings the sword-Njarðar's stripes into the fjord and it's cold

gusts of wind surround a village

It's graying, it's graying

The deep, long cut folds come more and more to life and the sun shines in

through the lifeless gray clouds

The clouds cry to the ground

The rain hammers down and turns the day gray in the long, endlessly long world of the other

same

The first moment of a new winter

Cold, grey-brown ghouls plunge their fireboughs into the depths of Ymis blood

At their feet is found an oak, a new bough

It's not long ago that a broken glass followed its way to the world

ice cold and sulfur heat

The men still hardly stay there

Wide and wide, the first ice break flowers are found between the decline of Marnar's children

Contrasts between spring and cold worm fall

I wake up and freeze in extreme light

Moon sister so clear, does not deceive away the cold spring morning, the spring morning already

new life arose from the mother