Album
ARFUR
Album · 8 August 2026 · 15 tracks
ARFUR means inheritance. It is OTHRAVAR's fourth album, following The Nine Realms, JÖTNAR, MYRKR and FORNǪLD. Fifteen tracks, each told through a different voice from Norse tradition: gods, heroes, creatures and forgotten sagas. A hammer born from a goddess's golden hair. A poet who earned immortality with words. A god who made silence his weapon. A shieldmaiden who took up a cursed blade without fear. A queen who avenged her brother in the darkest way. A dead man who rose from his grave and never found rest. The album does not follow one hero or one event. It shows the different kinds of inheritance the Norse world passed down: power, words, vengeance, fate. What moves from one generation to the next is not only blood, but the story itself. Pure Nordic folk throughout, built on bagpipes, hurdy-gurdy, tagelharpa and frame drums, driven at high tempo. Three tracks (Hœnir, Cnut the Great, Örvar-Oddr) slow the pace and give the album room to breathe. 15 tracks, sung in Old Icelandic.
Tracklist
Tap a track for lyrics, story and listening links.
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Lyrics
Sif! Sif! Gullhár! Sif! Sif! Gullhár! Sif! Sif! Gullhár! Sif! Sif! Gullhár! Gullið hár, skorið af, Reiði Þórs, eldur og stál, Úr hári mínu fæddist hamar, Mjölnir sjálfur, úr hefnd minni. Gullið hár, skorið af, Reiði Þórs, eldur og stál, Úr hári mínu fæddist hamar, Mjölnir sjálfur, úr hefnd minni. Ég svaf, Loki laumaðist inn, Rakaði höfuð mitt í myrkri, Ég vaknaði nakin og svívirt, Gull mitt horfið, hár mitt farið. Gullið hár, skorið af, Reiði Þórs, eldur og stál, Úr hári mínu fæddist hamar, Mjölnir sjálfur, úr hefnd minni. Gullið hár, skorið af, Reiði Þórs, eldur og stál, Úr hári mínu fæddist hamar, Mjölnir sjálfur, úr hefnd minni. Þórr greip Loka með járnhendi, Ég brýt hvert bein í þér, Nema þú finnir gull sem vex, Nema þú bætir svívirðinguna. Loki hljóp til Svartálfaheims, Dvergar smíða í eldi og myrkri, Gullhár sem vex, Gungni, Skíðblaðni, En kibbnin krafðist meira enn. Brokkr og Eitri tóku veðmál, Höfuð Loka gegn þrem gjöfum, Gullinbursti, Draupnir, og svo — Mjölnir, hamar sem aldrei bregst. Gullið hár, skorið af, Reiði Þórs, eldur og stál, Úr hári mínu fæddist hamar, Mjölnir sjálfur, úr hefnd minni. Gullið hár, skorið af, Reiði Þórs, eldur og stál, Úr hári mínu fæddist hamar, Mjölnir sjálfur, úr hefnd minni. Mjölnir, Mjölnir, úr hefnd minni, Mjölnir, Mjölnir, úr hefnd minni. Mjölnir, Mjölnir, úr hefnd minni, Mjölnir, Mjölnir, úr hefnd minni.
Sif! Sif! Golden hair! Sif! Sif! Golden hair! Sif! Sif! Golden hair! Sif! Sif! Golden hair! The golden hair, cut away, Thor's wrath, fire and steel, From my hair a hammer was born, Mjölnir himself, out of my vengeance. The golden hair, cut away, Thor's wrath, fire and steel, From my hair a hammer was born, Mjölnir himself, out of my vengeance. I slept, Loki crept inside, He shaved my head in the darkness, I woke bare and dishonoured, My gold gone, my hair taken. The golden hair, cut away, Thor's wrath, fire and steel, From my hair a hammer was born, Mjölnir himself, out of my vengeance. The golden hair, cut away, Thor's wrath, fire and steel, From my hair a hammer was born, Mjölnir himself, out of my vengeance. Thor seized Loki with an iron hand, I will break every bone in you, Unless you find gold that grows, Unless you mend the dishonour. Loki ran to Svartálfaheimr, Dwarves forge in fire and darkness, Golden hair that grows, Gungnir, Skíðblaðnir, But the rivalry demanded still more. Brokkr and Eitri took the wager, Loki's head against three gifts, Gullinbursti, Draupnir, and then — Mjölnir, the hammer that never fails. The golden hair, cut away, Thor's wrath, fire and steel, From my hair a hammer was born, Mjölnir himself, out of my vengeance. The golden hair, cut away, Thor's wrath, fire and steel, From my hair a hammer was born, Mjölnir himself, out of my vengeance. Mjölnir, Mjölnir, out of my vengeance, Mjölnir, Mjölnir, out of my vengeance. Mjölnir, Mjölnir, out of my vengeance, Mjölnir, Mjölnir, out of my vengeance.
Story Behind The Song
Snorri's Skáldskaparmál opens the story with a prank. Loki cut off all of Sif's hair while she slept. Thor caught him and threatened to break every bone in his body unless he put it right, and the only repair Thor would accept was hair of real gold that would grow like the hair Loki had taken. Loki went to the dwarves. The sons of Ívaldi made the golden hair, and with it the spear Gungnir and the ship Skíðblaðnir. Loki then wagered his own head against the brothers Brokkr and Eitri that they could not match those gifts. They made the boar Gullinbursti, the ring Draupnir, and the hammer Mjölnir. The hammer's handle came out short because Loki, in the shape of a fly, bit Brokkr's eyelid while he worked the bellows. The gods judged Mjölnir the finest of the six gifts, and Loki lost the bet. The song gives the account back to Sif, who in the source has no lines at all. The chain it follows is the one Snorri sets out: her hair is cut, the theft has to be repaired, the repair sends Loki to the dwarves, and the dwarves make the hammer. Mjölnir, the weapon that defends Ásgarðr, exists because of a wrong done to her. -
Lyrics
Rúnir risu á brjósti mínu, Áður en ég sagði fyrsta orð, Óðinn kallaði mig skáld, Fyrir en ég kunni að ganga. Ég sit í Valhöll við hlið hans, Ég tek á móti föllnum hetjum, Þeirra nöfn deyja aldrei, Því ég syng þau að eilífu. Orð eru sverð, ljóð eru skildir, Bragi syngur, nafnið lifir. Bragi kveður, hetjan lifir, Bragi syngur, dauðinn tapar, Orð mín rista dýpra en stál, Ódauðleiki er ljóð mitt gefið. Bragi kveður, hetjan lifir, Bragi syngur, dauðinn tapar, Orð mín rista dýpra en stál, Ódauðleiki er ljóð mitt gefið. Iðunn er kona mín, epli hennar, Halda æsku guðanna eilíft, En orð mín halda hetjum lifandi, Löngu eftir að bein þeirra fúna. Orð eru sverð, ljóð eru skildir, Bragi syngur, nafnið lifir. Bragi kveður, hetjan lifir, Bragi syngur, dauðinn tapar, Orð mín rista dýpra en stál, Ódauðleiki er ljóð mitt gefið. Bragi kveður, hetjan lifir, Bragi syngur, dauðinn tapar, Orð mín rista dýpra en stál, Ódauðleiki er ljóð mitt gefið. Sverð þitt ryðgar, skjöldur þinn brotnar, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... En nafn þitt í ljóði mínu — ryðgar aldrei, brotnar aldrei! Bragi kveður, hetjan lifir, Bragi syngur, dauðinn tapar, Orð mín rista dýpra en stál, Ódauðleiki er ljóð mitt gefið. Bragi kveður, hetjan lifir, Bragi syngur, dauðinn tapar, Orð mín rista dýpra en stál, Ódauðleiki er ljóð mitt gefið. Nafnið lifir, nafnið lifir, Í ljóði mínu, í ljóði mínu. Nafnið lifir, nafnið lifir, Í ljóði mínu, í ljóði mínu.
Runes rose upon my breast, Before I spoke my first word, Odin called me a skald, Before I could walk. I sit in Valhöll at his side, I receive the fallen heroes, Their names never die, For I sing them for ever. Words are swords, poems are shields, Bragi sings, the name lives on. Bragi recites, the hero lives, Bragi sings, death is the loser, My words cut deeper than steel, Immortality is my poem given. Bragi recites, the hero lives, Bragi sings, death is the loser, My words cut deeper than steel, Immortality is my poem given. Iðunn is my wife, her apples, Keep the gods young for ever, But my words keep heroes alive, Long after their bones have rotted. Words are swords, poems are shields, Bragi sings, the name lives on. Bragi recites, the hero lives, Bragi sings, death is the loser, My words cut deeper than steel, Immortality is my poem given. Bragi recites, the hero lives, Bragi sings, death is the loser, My words cut deeper than steel, Immortality is my poem given. Your sword rusts, your shield breaks, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... But your name in my poem — never rusts, never breaks! Bragi recites, the hero lives, Bragi sings, death is the loser, My words cut deeper than steel, Immortality is my poem given. Bragi recites, the hero lives, Bragi sings, death is the loser, My words cut deeper than steel, Immortality is my poem given. The name lives on, the name lives on, In my poem, in my poem. The name lives on, the name lives on, In my poem, in my poem.
Story Behind The Song
Bragi is the god of poetry. Snorri names him in Gylfaginning as foremost in skaldskapr, the craft of verse, and says he is wise in words above all others. His wife is Iðunn, who keeps the apples that hold the gods' youth. Two details in the song come straight from the sources. Runes carved on Bragi's tongue appear in Sigrdrífumál, in the list of places where runes are cut. Bragi welcoming the dead into Valhöll comes from Eiríksmál, where Odin sends him to greet the arriving king. The song puts those two together: the god whose art is language is also the one who receives the fallen and speaks their names. The claim it builds on them is Bragi's own, and it belongs to the album's theme. Iðunn's apples keep the gods young, but they do nothing for a dead warrior. A name survives only if someone recites it. What the poet leaves behind outlasts what the smith does, because steel rusts and verse is repeated. -
Lyrics
Ráðið mun, ráðið mun, Ráðið mun um það. Ráðið mun, ráðið mun, Ráðið mun um það. Þeir sáu mig háan og fagran, Þeir héldu ég væri konungur verður, En án Mímis við hlið mína, Sagði ég ekkert nema þessi orð. Hœnir þegir, Hœnir horfir, Orð mín ein duga aldrei ein, Þeir héldu mig veikan, þeir héldu mig heimskan, En þögnin mín var vopn sem þeir skildu ekki. Hœnir þegir, Hœnir horfir, Orð mín ein duga aldrei ein, Þeir héldu mig veikan, þeir héldu mig heimskan, En þögnin mín var vopn sem þeir skildu ekki. Vanir reiddust, Vanir sviku, Þeir tóku höfuð Mímis af, En sá sem þegir lifir lengur, Sá sem talar deyr fyrst. Ráðið mun, ráðið mun, Ráðið mun um það. Ráðið mun, ráðið mun, Ráðið mun um það. Hœnir þegir, Hœnir horfir, Orð mín ein duga aldrei ein, Þeir héldu mig veikan, þeir héldu mig heimskan, En þögnin mín var vopn sem þeir skildu ekki. Hœnir þegir, Hœnir horfir, Orð mín ein duga aldrei ein, Þeir héldu mig veikan, þeir héldu mig heimskan, En þögnin mín var vopn sem þeir skildu ekki. Þeir sem tala mikið, deyja fljótt, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... Ég lifi enn. Ég þegi enn. Ég sé allt sem þeir sjá ekki. Hœnir þegir, Hœnir horfir, Orð mín ein duga aldrei ein, Þeir héldu mig veikan, þeir héldu mig heimskan, En þögnin mín var vopn sem þeir skildu ekki. Hœnir þegir, Hœnir horfir, Orð mín ein duga aldrei ein, Þeir héldu mig veikan, þeir héldu mig heimskan, En þögnin mín var vopn sem þeir skildu ekki. Ráðið mun, ráðið mun, Ráðið mun um það. Ráðið mun, ráðið mun, Ráðið mun um það.
The counsel will decide, the counsel will decide, The counsel will decide upon it. The counsel will decide, the counsel will decide, The counsel will decide upon it. They saw me tall and fair, They thought me a king worth having, But without Mímir at my side, I said nothing but these words. Hœnir is silent, Hœnir watches, My words alone never suffice alone, They thought me weak, they thought me a fool, But my silence was a weapon they did not understand. Hœnir is silent, Hœnir watches, My words alone never suffice alone, They thought me weak, they thought me a fool, But my silence was a weapon they did not understand. The Vanir grew angry, the Vanir betrayed, They struck the head from Mímir, But he who keeps silent lives longer, He who speaks dies first. The counsel will decide, the counsel will decide, The counsel will decide upon it. The counsel will decide, the counsel will decide, The counsel will decide upon it. Hœnir is silent, Hœnir watches, My words alone never suffice alone, They thought me weak, they thought me a fool, But my silence was a weapon they did not understand. Hœnir is silent, Hœnir watches, My words alone never suffice alone, They thought me weak, they thought me a fool, But my silence was a weapon they did not understand. Those who talk much die soon, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... I am still alive. I am still silent. I see everything they do not see. Hœnir is silent, Hœnir watches, My words alone never suffice alone, They thought me weak, they thought me a fool, But my silence was a weapon they did not understand. Hœnir is silent, Hœnir watches, My words alone never suffice alone, They thought me weak, they thought me a fool, But my silence was a weapon they did not understand. The counsel will decide, the counsel will decide, The counsel will decide upon it. The counsel will decide, the counsel will decide, The counsel will decide upon it.
Story Behind The Song
After the war between the Æsir and the Vanir, the two sides exchanged hostages. Snorri tells it in Ynglinga saga: the Æsir sent Hœnir, who was tall and handsome and looked every part a leader, and with him Mímir, the wisest of them. The Vanir made Hœnir a chief. But whenever he was asked to rule on anything and Mímir was not beside him, he gave the same answer: let others decide. The Vanir concluded they had been cheated in the exchange. They cut off Mímir's head and sent it back to the Æsir. Odin preserved it and kept consulting it afterwards. The song is the version Hœnir never gives in the source, where he is only ever described from outside. It does not dispute what happened. It reads the silence differently: a god who says nothing is still there at the end, while the one who answered every question was beheaded for it. Hœnir survives Ragnarök in Völuspá, one of the few who does. -
Lyrics
Gylfi konungur lofaði mér landi, Svo miklu sem ég gæti plægt, Hann hló, hann hélt það væri leikur, Hann þekkti ekki mátt minn. Fjórir synir mínir urðu að uxum, Hornin risu, húðin harðnaði, Ég beisl þá við plóginn minn, Og jörðin sjálf fann óttann. Gefjun plægir, jörðin rifnar, Fjórir uxar draga landið sjálft, Gefjun sker, hafið gleypir, Sjáland fæðist úr valdi mínu. Gefjun plægir, jörðin rifnar, Fjórir uxar draga landið sjálft, Gefjun sker, hafið gleypir, Sjáland fæðist úr valdi mínu. Jörðin sjálf öskraði undir plógnum, Björg brotnuðu, dalir opnuðust, Svíar horfðu og gátu ekkert gert, Meðan land þeirra sigldi til sjávar. Fjórir synir, fjórir uxar, Hornin rista dýpra en nokkurt sverð, Gylfi lofaði því sem hann hélt ómögulegt, Ég tók hann á orðinu — og tók landið hans. Gefjun plægir, jörðin rifnar, Fjórir uxar draga landið sjálft, Gefjun sker, hafið gleypir, Sjáland fæðist úr valdi mínu. Gefjun plægir, jörðin rifnar, Fjórir uxar draga landið sjálft, Gefjun sker, hafið gleypir, Sjáland fæðist úr valdi mínu. Gefjun plægir, jörðin rifnar, Fjórir uxar draga landið sjálft, Gefjun sker, hafið gleypir, Sjáland fæðist úr valdi mínu. Gefjun plægir, jörðin rifnar, Fjórir uxar draga landið sjálft, Gefjun sker, hafið gleypir, Sjáland fæðist úr valdi mínu. Sjáland lifir, Sjáland lifir, Úr valdi mínu, úr valdi mínu. Sjáland lifir, Sjáland lifir, Úr valdi mínu, úr valdi mínu.
King Gylfi promised me land, As much as I could plough, He laughed, he thought it a game, He did not know my power. My four sons became oxen, Horns rose, hides hardened, I harnessed them to my plough, And the earth itself felt fear. Gefjun ploughs, the earth is torn, Four oxen drag the land itself, Gefjun cuts, the sea swallows, Zealand is born out of my power. Gefjun ploughs, the earth is torn, Four oxen drag the land itself, Gefjun cuts, the sea swallows, Zealand is born out of my power. The earth itself screamed beneath the plough, Rocks broke, valleys opened, The Swedes watched and could do nothing, While their land sailed out to sea. Four sons, four oxen, The horns cut deeper than any sword, Gylfi promised what he thought impossible, I took him at his word — and took his land. Gefjun ploughs, the earth is torn, Four oxen drag the land itself, Gefjun cuts, the sea swallows, Zealand is born out of my power. Gefjun ploughs, the earth is torn, Four oxen drag the land itself, Gefjun cuts, the sea swallows, Zealand is born out of my power. Gefjun ploughs, the earth is torn, Four oxen drag the land itself, Gefjun cuts, the sea swallows, Zealand is born out of my power. Gefjun ploughs, the earth is torn, Four oxen drag the land itself, Gefjun cuts, the sea swallows, Zealand is born out of my power. Zealand lives, Zealand lives, Out of my power, out of my power. Zealand lives, Zealand lives, Out of my power, out of my power.
Story Behind The Song
Snorri tells this twice, in Gylfaginning and again at the start of Ynglinga saga. Gylfi, a king in Sweden, gave a wandering woman as much land as she could plough with four oxen in a day and a night. He did not know she was of the Æsir. Gefjun went to Jötunheimr, where she had four sons by a giant, and turned them into oxen. The plough cut so deep that the land came loose. The oxen dragged it west into the sea, where it became the island of Zealand, and the hollow it left behind filled with water and became a lake. Snorri quotes the skald Bragi Boddason on it, which makes the verse older than his prose. The song keeps the detail that gives the story its edge: Gylfi set the terms himself. He measured the gift by what he assumed a person could do in a day, and lost an island because he was wrong about who he was bargaining with. Zealand, with Copenhagen on it, is what remains of the bargain. -
Lyrics
Rekinn! Rekinn! Enn á ný! Rekinn! Rekinn! Enn á ný! Rekinn! Rekinn! Enn á ný! Rekinn! Rekinn! Enn á ný! Rekinn frá Noregi fyrir blóð, Rekinn frá Íslandi fyrir stríð, Ég sigli vestur þar sem enginn snýr, Ég finn land sem enginn á. Rekinn frá Noregi fyrir blóð, Rekinn frá Íslandi fyrir stríð, Ég sigli vestur þar sem enginn snýr, Ég finn land sem enginn á. Þeir kölluðu mig morðingja, Þeir ráku mig úr hverju landi, En hver sá sem rekur mig út, Sendir mig að nýju konungsríki. Ís þakti landið sem ég fann, En ég kallaði það Grænland, Nafn sem lokkar, nafn sem lýgur, Menn fylgdu lyginni vestur til mín. Rekinn frá Noregi fyrir blóð, Rekinn frá Íslandi fyrir stríð, Ég sigli vestur þar sem enginn snýr, Ég finn land sem enginn á. Rekinn frá Noregi fyrir blóð, Rekinn frá Íslandi fyrir stríð, Ég sigli vestur þar sem enginn snýr, Ég finn land sem enginn á. Þeir ráku mig sem úrgang, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... Ég kom aftur sem konungur eigin ríkis. Sonur minn siglir enn lengra en ég! Rekinn frá Noregi fyrir blóð, Rekinn frá Íslandi fyrir stríð, Ég sigli vestur þar sem enginn snýr, Ég finn land sem enginn á. Rekinn frá Noregi fyrir blóð, Rekinn frá Íslandi fyrir stríð, Ég sigli vestur þar sem enginn snýr, Ég finn land sem enginn á. Grænland lifir, lygin lifir, Rekinn, en aldrei sigraður. Grænland lifir, lygin lifir, Rekinn, en aldrei sigraður.
Driven out! Driven out! Once again! Driven out! Driven out! Once again! Driven out! Driven out! Once again! Driven out! Driven out! Once again! Driven from Norway for blood, Driven from Iceland for strife, I sail west where no one turns back, I find a land that no one owns. Driven from Norway for blood, Driven from Iceland for strife, I sail west where no one turns back, I find a land that no one owns. They called me a killer, They drove me out of every country, But whoever drives me out, Sends me on to a new kingdom. Ice covered the land I found, But I called it Greenland, A name that lures, a name that lies, Men followed the lie west to me. Driven from Norway for blood, Driven from Iceland for strife, I sail west where no one turns back, I find a land that no one owns. Driven from Norway for blood, Driven from Iceland for strife, I sail west where no one turns back, I find a land that no one owns. They drove me out like refuse, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... I came back as king of my own realm. My son sails further still than I! Driven from Norway for blood, Driven from Iceland for strife, I sail west where no one turns back, I find a land that no one owns. Driven from Norway for blood, Driven from Iceland for strife, I sail west where no one turns back, I find a land that no one owns. Greenland lives, the lie lives, Driven out, but never defeated. Greenland lives, the lie lives, Driven out, but never defeated.
Story Behind The Song
Eiríkr Þorvaldsson, called Eiríkr the Red, was exiled twice. His family left Norway when his father was outlawed for killings. In Iceland he was outlawed himself, first from one district and then from the whole country for three years, after feuds that ended in more deaths. He used the sentence to sail west and look for land that had been sighted but not settled. He spent the three years exploring the coast, and when the term ran out he came back to recruit settlers. Eiríks saga rauða states his reasoning for the name plainly: he called it Grœnland because men would be far more willing to go there if the land had an attractive name. Twenty-five ships sailed; fourteen arrived. The song takes him at his word on all of it, including the naming. He does not present it as discovery so much as consequence. Each expulsion moved him further west, and the last one put him at the head of a settlement of his own. His son Leifr, whose voyage is on FORNǪLD, went further. -
Lyrics
Ég klæddist brynju, ekki kjól, Ég bar sverð, ekki nál, Þeir kölluðu mig undarlega, Ég kallaði mig frjálsa. Hervör gengur inn í eldinn, Hervör vekur dauða menn, Hervör óttast ekki bölvun, Tyrfingur verður minn. Hervör gengur inn í eldinn, Hervör vekur dauða menn, Hervör óttast ekki bölvun, Tyrfingur verður minn. Ég sigldi til hauganna einn, Loginn brann blár í myrkri, Draugar risu, jörðin skalf, Ég kallaði á föður minn dauðan. Angantýr! Gef mér sverðið! Angantýr! Gef mér sverðið! Angantýr! Gef mér sverðið! Angantýr! Gef mér sverðið! Hervör gengur inn í eldinn, Hervör vekur dauða menn, Hervör óttast ekki bölvun, Tyrfingur verður minn. Hervör gengur inn í eldinn, Hervör vekur dauða menn, Hervör óttast ekki bölvun, Tyrfingur verður minn. Sverðið mun drepa með hverri drátt, Ég ræð eigin örlögum! Bölvunin fylgir blóði þínu að eilífu, Þá fylgi ég henni frjáls! Hervör gengur inn í eldinn, Hervör vekur dauða menn, Hervör óttast ekki bölvun, Tyrfingur verður minn. Hervör gengur inn í eldinn, Hervör vekur dauða menn, Hervör óttast ekki bölvun, Tyrfingur verður minn. Tyrfingur er minn, bölvunin er mín, Tyrfingur er minn, bölvunin er mín. Tyrfingur er minn, bölvunin er mín, Tyrfingur er minn, bölvunin er mín.
I wore mail, not a gown, I bore a sword, not a needle, They called me strange, I called myself free. Hervör walks into the fire, Hervör wakes the dead men, Hervör does not fear the curse, Tyrfingr shall be mine. Hervör walks into the fire, Hervör wakes the dead men, Hervör does not fear the curse, Tyrfingr shall be mine. I sailed to the burial mounds alone, The flame burned blue in the darkness, Draugar rose, the earth shook, I called upon my dead father. Angantýr! Give me the sword! Angantýr! Give me the sword! Angantýr! Give me the sword! Angantýr! Give me the sword! Hervör walks into the fire, Hervör wakes the dead men, Hervör does not fear the curse, Tyrfingr shall be mine. Hervör walks into the fire, Hervör wakes the dead men, Hervör does not fear the curse, Tyrfingr shall be mine. The sword will kill with every drawing, I rule my own fate! The curse will follow your blood for ever, Then I follow it as a free woman! Hervör walks into the fire, Hervör wakes the dead men, Hervör does not fear the curse, Tyrfingr shall be mine. Hervör walks into the fire, Hervör wakes the dead men, Hervör does not fear the curse, Tyrfingr shall be mine. Tyrfingr is mine, the curse is mine, Tyrfingr is mine, the curse is mine. Tyrfingr is mine, the curse is mine, Tyrfingr is mine, the curse is mine.
Story Behind The Song
Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks tells of Hervör, daughter of the berserk Angantýr. She grew up doing what the saga calls men's work, took up weapons, and for a time lived as an outlaw under the name Hervarðr. The sword Tyrfingr was made by dwarves under compulsion, and they cursed it: it would kill a man every time it was drawn, and it would be the death of three people in the family. Angantýr was buried with it on Samsey after falling there. Hervör sailed to the island alone. The crew would not go ashore because the mounds burned with grave-fire at night. She went up anyway and called her father by name until he answered. The exchange in the poem is an argument. Angantýr tells her what the sword is and refuses her, saying no woman should carry it and that it will destroy her line. She answers that she does not care what it costs and asks again. He gives it to her. The song keeps her side of it: the curse is real, she has been told exactly what it will do, and she takes it as her inheritance anyway. -
Lyrics
Gunnar og Högni, sviknir af Atla, Gull þagað, leyndarmál grafið, Hörpuslátt með tánum í ormagröf, Þögnin okkar er sigur okkar. Gunnar og Högni, sviknir af Atla, Gull þagað, leyndarmál grafið, Hörpuslátt með tánum í ormagröf, Þögnin okkar er sigur okkar. Atli bauð okkur gull og heiður, Við vissum lygina, við komum samt, Bræður saman, síðasta ferðin, Heiður er meira en líf sjálft. Þeir skáru hjarta Högna út, Hann hló meðan hann dó, Þeir spurðu mig um gullið falið, Ég þagði, ég brosti, ég beið. Gunnar og Högni, sviknir af Atla, Gull þagað, leyndarmál grafið, Hörpuslátt með tánum í ormagröf, Þögnin okkar er sigur okkar. Gunnar og Högni, sviknir af Atla, Gull þagað, leyndarmál grafið, Hörpuslátt með tánum í ormagröf, Þögnin okkar er sigur okkar. Hendur bundnar, tær frjálsar enn, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... Ég sló hörpuna með tánum mínum, ormarnir sofnuðu — nema einn. Gunnar og Högni, sviknir af Atla, Gull þagað, leyndarmál grafið, Hörpuslátt með tánum í ormagröf, Þögnin okkar er sigur okkar. Gunnar og Högni, sviknir af Atla, Gull þagað, leyndarmál grafið, Hörpuslátt með tánum í ormagröf, Þögnin okkar er sigur okkar. Gullið sefur í Rín að eilífu, Gullið sefur í Rín að eilífu. Gullið sefur í Rín að eilífu, Gullið sefur í Rín að eilífu.
Gunnarr and Högni, betrayed by Atli, Gold kept silent, the secret buried, Harp-playing with the toes in the snake pit, Our silence is our victory. Gunnarr and Högni, betrayed by Atli, Gold kept silent, the secret buried, Harp-playing with the toes in the snake pit, Our silence is our victory. Atli offered us gold and honour, We knew the lie, we came all the same, Brothers together, the last journey, Honour is more than life itself. They cut the heart out of Högni, He laughed while he died, They asked me about the hidden gold, I kept silent, I smiled, I waited. Gunnarr and Högni, betrayed by Atli, Gold kept silent, the secret buried, Harp-playing with the toes in the snake pit, Our silence is our victory. Gunnarr and Högni, betrayed by Atli, Gold kept silent, the secret buried, Harp-playing with the toes in the snake pit, Our silence is our victory. Hands bound, toes still free, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... I struck the harp with my toes, the serpents fell asleep — all but one. Gunnarr and Högni, betrayed by Atli, Gold kept silent, the secret buried, Harp-playing with the toes in the snake pit, Our silence is our victory. Gunnarr and Högni, betrayed by Atli, Gold kept silent, the secret buried, Harp-playing with the toes in the snake pit, Our silence is our victory. The gold sleeps in the Rhine for ever, The gold sleeps in the Rhine for ever. The gold sleeps in the Rhine for ever, The gold sleeps in the Rhine for ever.
Story Behind The Song
Atlakviða and Völsunga saga tell the same end for the sons of Gjúki. Atli invited Gunnarr and Högni to his hall. Their sister Guðrún, married to Atli, sent a warning; they read it and went anyway. Atli wanted the gold that had come to them from Sigurðr, the hoard taken from Fáfnir. Gunnarr said he would only speak once he had seen Högni's heart. They first brought him the heart of a slave, and Gunnarr said it could not be his brother's because it trembled. Then they killed Högni, who laughed as they cut, and brought his heart, which lay still. Gunnarr said now the secret was his alone, and he would never tell it. He was thrown bound into a snake pit, where he played a harp, with his toes in Völsunga saga, until one adder reached him. The song takes the brothers' view of what they achieved. They lost their lives and kept the hoard out of Atli's hands. Where the gold went is left as the tradition leaves it, sunk in the Rhine and never recovered. -
Lyrics
Bræður mínir dóu í höll þinni, Þú hlóst, þú hélst að ég gleymdi, Þú tókst mig sem konu, ekki sem hefnd, Þú vissir ekki hvað ég ber í mér. Synir okkar léku sér við fætur mína, Ég horfði á þá, ég hugsaði um Gunnar, Ég tók hnífinn minn með rólegri hendi, Móðurást brann til ösku þá nótt. Guðrún hefnir, Guðrún tekur, Synir hennar verða að gulli og blóði, Guðrún ber fram kaleik og hjörtu, Atli étur það sem hann elskaði mest. Guðrún hefnir, Guðrún tekur, Synir hennar verða að gulli og blóði, Guðrún ber fram kaleik og hjörtu, Atli étur það sem hann elskaði mest. Ég sagði honum sannleikann að lokum, Hann fölnaði, hann skildi loksins, Kaleikur hans var hauskúpa sonar hans, Kjötið hans var hjarta eigin blóðs. Étið! Étið! Blóð af blóði! Étið! Étið! Blóð af blóði! Étið! Étið! Blóð af blóði! Étið! Étið! Blóð af blóði! Guðrún hefnir, Guðrún tekur, Synir hennar verða að gulli og blóði, Guðrún ber fram kaleik og hjörtu, Atli étur það sem hann elskaði mest. Guðrún hefnir, Guðrún tekur, Synir hennar verða að gulli og blóði, Guðrún ber fram kaleik og hjörtu, Atli étur það sem hann elskaði mest. Hvað hef ég etið? Hvað hef ég drukkið? Synir þína, Atli. Blóð af þínu blóði. Ég brenn fyrir þetta! Þú brennur í nótt, í eigin höll. Guðrún hefnir, Guðrún tekur, Synir hennar verða að gulli og blóði, Guðrún ber fram kaleik og hjörtu, Atli étur það sem hann elskaði mest. Guðrún hefnir, Guðrún tekur, Synir hennar verða að gulli og blóði, Guðrún ber fram kaleik og hjörtu, Atli étur það sem hann elskaði mest. Höllin brennur, hefndin er lokið, Höllin brennur, hefndin er lokið. Höllin brennur, hefndin er lokið, Höllin brennur, hefndin er lokið.
My brothers died in your hall, You laughed, you thought I would forget, You took me as a wife, not as vengeance, You did not know what I carry in me. Our sons played at my feet, I watched them, I thought of Gunnarr, I took my knife with a steady hand, A mother's love burned to ash that night. Guðrún avenges, Guðrún takes, Her sons become gold and blood, Guðrún brings out the cup and the hearts, Atli eats what he loved most. Guðrún avenges, Guðrún takes, Her sons become gold and blood, Guðrún brings out the cup and the hearts, Atli eats what he loved most. I told him the truth at the last, He went pale, he understood at last, His cup was the skull of his son, His meat was the heart of his own blood. Eat! Eat! Blood of your blood! Eat! Eat! Blood of your blood! Eat! Eat! Blood of your blood! Eat! Eat! Blood of your blood! Guðrún avenges, Guðrún takes, Her sons become gold and blood, Guðrún brings out the cup and the hearts, Atli eats what he loved most. Guðrún avenges, Guðrún takes, Her sons become gold and blood, Guðrún brings out the cup and the hearts, Atli eats what he loved most. What have I eaten? What have I drunk? Your sons, Atli. Blood of your blood. I will burn for this! You burn tonight, in your own hall. Guðrún avenges, Guðrún takes, Her sons become gold and blood, Guðrún brings out the cup and the hearts, Atli eats what he loved most. Guðrún avenges, Guðrún takes, Her sons become gold and blood, Guðrún brings out the cup and the hearts, Atli eats what he loved most. The hall burns, the vengeance is finished, The hall burns, the vengeance is finished. The hall burns, the vengeance is finished, The hall burns, the vengeance is finished.
Story Behind The Song
Guðrún Gjúkadóttir was married to Atli after Sigurðr's death. When Atli killed her brothers Gunnarr and Högni for the Rhine gold, the vengeance fell to her, and the sources let her take it in full. Atlakviða and Völsunga saga agree on what she did. She killed the two sons she had borne Atli, had cups made from their skulls, and served him their hearts and their blood mixed with wine. She told him what he had eaten only after the meal. Then she set the hall alight with Atli and his men inside, and killed him herself. The poem does not moralise about it, and neither does the song. The logic is the feud's own: a killing is answered by a killing that costs the killer as much as it cost the avenger. Guðrún destroys her own children to take everything from Atli, and the last thing left standing in the story is the fire. The brothers' side of the same feud is the previous track, Þögnin okkar. -
Lyrics
Göngu-Hrólfr! Of stór fyrir hest! Göngu-Hrólfr! Of stór fyrir hest! Göngu-Hrólfr! Of stór fyrir hest! Göngu-Hrólfr! Of stór fyrir hest! Rollo gengur, engin hestur ber hann, Rollo brýtur Frakkland með fótum sínum, Konungur býður land, ekki bardaga, Ný jörð fæðist úr göngu minni. Rollo gengur, engin hestur ber hann, Rollo brýtur Frakkland með fótum sínum, Konungur býður land, ekki bardaga, Ný jörð fæðist úr göngu minni. Þeir hlógu að mér í Noregi, Of stór, of þungur, gangandi jötunn, En fætur mínir báru mig yfir höf, Fætur mínir tóku það sem hestar gátu ekki. Karl konungur bauð mér frið og land, Ef ég kyssti fót hans eins og þræll, Ég sendi mann minn í staðinn fyrir mig, Hann kastaði konunginum til jarðar. Rollo gengur, engin hestur ber hann, Rollo brýtur Frakkland með fótum sínum, Konungur býður land, ekki bardaga, Ný jörð fæðist úr göngu minni. Rollo gengur, engin hestur ber hann, Rollo brýtur Frakkland með fótum sínum, Konungur býður land, ekki bardaga, Ný jörð fæðist úr göngu minni. Ég kraup ekki, ég beygði mig ekki, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... Normandí fæddist af stolti mínu — ekki af undirgefni! Rollo gengur, engin hestur ber hann, Rollo brýtur Frakkland með fótum sínum, Konungur býður land, ekki bardaga, Ný jörð fæðist úr göngu minni. Rollo gengur, engin hestur ber hann, Rollo brýtur Frakkland með fótum sínum, Konungur býður land, ekki bardaga, Ný jörð fæðist úr göngu minni. Normandí lifir, ganga mín lifir, Normandí lifir, ganga mín lifir. Normandí lifir, ganga mín lifir, Normandí lifir, ganga mín lifir.
Göngu-Hrólfr! Too large for a horse! Göngu-Hrólfr! Too large for a horse! Göngu-Hrólfr! Too large for a horse! Göngu-Hrólfr! Too large for a horse! Rollo walks, no horse carries him, Rollo breaks France with his feet, The king offers land, not battle, A new realm is born out of my walking. Rollo walks, no horse carries him, Rollo breaks France with his feet, The king offers land, not battle, A new realm is born out of my walking. They laughed at me in Norway, Too large, too heavy, a walking giant, But my feet carried me across seas, My feet took what horses could not. King Charles offered me peace and land, If I kissed his foot like a thrall, I sent my man in my place, He threw the king to the ground. Rollo walks, no horse carries him, Rollo breaks France with his feet, The king offers land, not battle, A new realm is born out of my walking. Rollo walks, no horse carries him, Rollo breaks France with his feet, The king offers land, not battle, A new realm is born out of my walking. I did not kneel, I did not bow, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... Normandy was born of my pride — not of submission! Rollo walks, no horse carries him, Rollo breaks France with his feet, The king offers land, not battle, A new realm is born out of my walking. Rollo walks, no horse carries him, Rollo breaks France with his feet, The king offers land, not battle, A new realm is born out of my walking. Normandy lives, my walking lives, Normandy lives, my walking lives. Normandy lives, my walking lives, Normandy lives, my walking lives.
Story Behind The Song
Rollo, the first ruler of Normandy, is identified in Icelandic tradition with Hrólfr, son of Rögnvaldr of Møre. Heimskringla explains his byname Göngu-Hrólfr, Hrólfr the Walker: he was so large that no horse could carry him, so he went on foot. After years of Norse raiding on the Seine, King Charles the Simple granted him land around Rouen in 911, at Saint-Clair-sur-Epte, in exchange for allegiance and the defence of the river against other raiders. That grant became Normandy. The scene with the foot comes from Dudo of Saint-Quentin, writing about a century later. Homage required kissing the king's foot. Rollo would not stoop to it and told one of his men to do it for him; the man lifted the foot to his mouth instead of bending, and tipped the king onto his back. Dudo was writing for Rollo's descendants, so the anecdote flatters them, and it may be exactly the kind of story a court invents. The song uses it the way Dudo intended, as proof that the terms were accepted without submission. Rollo's descendant William took England in 1066. -
Lyrics
Knútur ríkir, þrjú lönd í einni hendi, England, Noregur, Danmörk, allt mitt, En einn dag settist ég við sjóinn, Til að sýna hvað konungur er ekki. Knútur ríkir, þrjú lönd í einni hendi, England, Noregur, Danmörk, allt mitt, En einn dag settist ég við sjóinn, Til að sýna hvað konungur er ekki. Þrjú ríki bogna undir mér, Ég sigraði England með sverði og samningi, Hirðmenn mínir hrósuðu mér óendanlega, Sögðu ég réði jafnvel hafinu sjálfu. Ég lét bera hásæti mitt að ströndinni, Ég settist þar sem flóðið kæmi að, Ég skipaði sjónum að hörfa fyrir mér, Hirðmenn mínir horfðu, hljóðir og vissir. Knútur ríkir, þrjú lönd í einni hendi, England, Noregur, Danmörk, allt mitt, En einn dag settist ég við sjóinn, Til að sýna hvað konungur er ekki. Knútur ríkir, þrjú lönd í einni hendi, England, Noregur, Danmörk, allt mitt, En einn dag settist ég við sjóinn, Til að sýna hvað konungur er ekki. Sjórinn hlýddi ekki, sjórinn kom nær, Fætur konungsins urðu blautir og kaldir, Hirðmenn stóðu agndofa, konungurinn brosti, Vald mitt nær ekki yfir Guði sjálfum. Þeir kölluðu mig almáttugan, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... Ég sýndi þeim sannleikann með blautum fótum — enginn konungur er guð! Knútur ríkir, þrjú lönd í einni hendi, England, Noregur, Danmörk, allt mitt, En einn dag settist ég við sjóinn, Til að sýna hvað konungur er ekki. Knútur ríkir, þrjú lönd í einni hendi, England, Noregur, Danmörk, allt mitt, En einn dag settist ég við sjóinn, Til að sýna hvað konungur er ekki. Sjórinn kom, sjórinn kenndi mér, Sjórinn kom, sjórinn kenndi mér. Sjórinn kom, sjórinn kenndi mér, Sjórinn kom, sjórinn kenndi mér.
Knut rules, three lands in one hand, England, Norway, Denmark, all mine, But one day I sat down by the sea, To show what a king is not. Knut rules, three lands in one hand, England, Norway, Denmark, all mine, But one day I sat down by the sea, To show what a king is not. Three kingdoms bend beneath me, I won England by sword and by treaty, My courtiers praised me without end, Said I ruled even the sea itself. I had my throne carried to the shore, I sat where the tide would come, I commanded the sea to retreat before me, My courtiers watched, silent and certain. Knut rules, three lands in one hand, England, Norway, Denmark, all mine, But one day I sat down by the sea, To show what a king is not. Knut rules, three lands in one hand, England, Norway, Denmark, all mine, But one day I sat down by the sea, To show what a king is not. The sea did not obey, the sea came nearer, The king's feet turned wet and cold, The courtiers stood stunned, the king smiled, My power does not reach over God himself. They called me almighty, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... I showed them the truth with wet feet — no king is a god! Knut rules, three lands in one hand, England, Norway, Denmark, all mine, But one day I sat down by the sea, To show what a king is not. Knut rules, three lands in one hand, England, Norway, Denmark, all mine, But one day I sat down by the sea, To show what a king is not. The sea came, the sea taught me, The sea came, the sea taught me. The sea came, the sea taught me, The sea came, the sea taught me.
Story Behind The Song
Cnut the Great ruled England, Denmark and Norway, the realm later called the North Sea Empire. He took the English throne in 1016 after years of war, and held it by treaty as much as by force. The story of the tide is told by Henry of Huntingdon, writing about a century after Cnut's death. Cnut had his chair set on the shore as the tide came in and ordered the sea not to touch him. The water rose over his feet anyway. Henry's point is the opposite of the one the story is usually put to: Cnut staged it to rebuke courtiers who had told him his power had no limit. In Henry's account he never wore his crown again afterwards, hanging it on a crucifix instead. The song keeps that reading. The king is not deluded and does not lose; he arranges the demonstration himself, and the wet feet are the argument. The last line is his own conclusion, that a king's authority stops well short of God's. -
Lyrics
Völva sagði mér dauða minn, Ormur úr hausi Faxa hests míns, Ég hló, ég reiddist, ég drap hestinn, Ég gróf hann djúpt, ég flúði örlögin. Þrjú hundruð ár flý ég spádóminn, Þrjú hundruð ár berst ég og lifi, Oddur flýr, Oddur sigrar, En örlögin ganga hægar en ég, ekki hraðar. Þrjú hundruð ár flý ég spádóminn, Þrjú hundruð ár berst ég og lifi, Oddur flýr, Oddur sigrar, En örlögin ganga hægar en ég, ekki hraðar. Ég barðist í hverju landi þekktu, Konungar dóu, heimsveldi féllu, Ég einn stóð eftir, ódauðlegur að sjá, Þrjú hundruð ár, ég taldi ekki lengur. Gamall maður snýr heim að lokum, Fætur hans þekkja gömlu slóðina, Hann finnur haug þar sem hesturinn svaf, Spádómurinn beið þolinmóður allan tímann. Þrjú hundruð ár flý ég spádóminn, Þrjú hundruð ár berst ég og lifi, Oddur flýr, Oddur sigrar, En örlögin ganga hægar en ég, ekki hraðar. Þrjú hundruð ár flý ég spádóminn, Þrjú hundruð ár berst ég og lifi, Oddur flýr, Oddur sigrar, En örlögin ganga hægar en ég, ekki hraðar. Ég sparkaði í hauskúpuna gömlu, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... Ormurinn beið þar. Þrjú hundruð ár. Fyrir mig einan. Ég sparkaði í hauskúpuna gömlu, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... Ormurinn beið þar. Þrjú hundruð ár. Fyrir mig einan. Þrjú hundruð ár flý ég spádóminn, Þrjú hundruð ár berst ég og lifi, Oddur flýr, Oddur sigrar, En örlögin ganga hægar en ég, ekki hraðar. Þrjú hundruð ár flý ég spádóminn, Þrjú hundruð ár berst ég og lifi, Oddur flýr, Oddur sigrar, En örlögin ganga hægar en ég, ekki hraðar. Ormurinn beit, spádómurinn stóð, Þrjú hundruð ár breyttu engu. Ormurinn beit, spádómurinn stóð, Þrjú hundruð ár breyttu engu.
A völva foretold my death, A serpent from the skull of Faxi, my horse, I laughed, I grew angry, I killed the horse, I buried him deep, I fled my fate. Three hundred years I flee the prophecy, Three hundred years I fight and live, Oddr flees, Oddr conquers, But fate walks slower than I, not faster. Three hundred years I flee the prophecy, Three hundred years I fight and live, Oddr flees, Oddr conquers, But fate walks slower than I, not faster. I fought in every known country, Kings died, empires fell, I alone remained, immortal to look at, Three hundred years, I no longer counted. An old man comes home at the last, His feet know the old path, He finds the mound where the horse slept, The prophecy waited patiently all that time. Three hundred years I flee the prophecy, Three hundred years I fight and live, Oddr flees, Oddr conquers, But fate walks slower than I, not faster. Three hundred years I flee the prophecy, Three hundred years I fight and live, Oddr flees, Oddr conquers, But fate walks slower than I, not faster. I kicked the old skull, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... The serpent waited there. Three hundred years. For me alone. I kicked the old skull, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... The serpent waited there. Three hundred years. For me alone. Three hundred years I flee the prophecy, Three hundred years I fight and live, Oddr flees, Oddr conquers, But fate walks slower than I, not faster. Three hundred years I flee the prophecy, Three hundred years I fight and live, Oddr flees, Oddr conquers, But fate walks slower than I, not faster. The serpent bit, the prophecy stood, Three hundred years changed nothing. The serpent bit, the prophecy stood, Three hundred years changed nothing.
Story Behind The Song
Örvar-Odds saga is one of the fornaldarsögur. A völva came to the farm where Oddr was young and told each person there what would become of them. Oddr wanted no part of it and struck her. She gave him his fate anyway: he would live three hundred years and travel widely, but he would die at that same farm, killed by his horse Faxi. He killed the horse at once, buried it in a pit and piled stones over it, and left. The three hundred years are the saga itself, a long career of raiding and fighting across Scandinavia, the Baltic, the Rus lands and further. At the end he comes back as an old man to see the place again. He stumbles against something in the ground, and it is Faxi's skull. An adder comes out of it and bites his foot, and he dies of the wound. The song's line is the saga's own irony: fate did not chase him. It stayed where it was and waited for him to walk back to it. -
Lyrics
Draugur gengur! Draugur rís! Draugur gengur! Draugur rís! Draugur gengur! Draugur rís! Draugur gengur! Draugur rís! Ég ligg í haugnum, kaldur og þungur, Holdið mitt rotnar ekki, blóðið mitt frýs, Nóttin kallar, ég rís úr moldu, Ég geng þar sem lifendur sofa óttalausir. Ég ligg í haugnum, kaldur og þungur, Holdið mitt rotnar ekki, blóðið mitt frýs, Nóttin kallar, ég rís úr moldu, Ég geng þar sem lifendur sofa óttalausir. Þeir grófu mig djúpt, þeir héldu ég svæfi, En svefninn er ekki fyrir mig ætlaður, Ég tek styrk þeirra sem ég tók ekki í lífi, Ég verð sterkari með hverri nótt. Þeir sendu mann til að berjast við mig, Hann var sterkur, hann var hugrakkur, Ég féll að lokum, en með síðasta andanum, Ég bölvaði augum hans að eilífu. Ég ligg í haugnum, kaldur og þungur, Holdið mitt rotnar ekki, blóðið mitt frýs, Nóttin kallar, ég rís úr moldu, Ég geng þar sem lifendur sofa óttalausir. Ég ligg í haugnum, kaldur og þungur, Holdið mitt rotnar ekki, blóðið mitt frýs, Nóttin kallar, ég rís úr moldu, Ég geng þar sem lifendur sofa óttalausir. Þú sérð myrkrið núna, er það ekki? Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... Það mun aldrei fara. Ég tryggði það með bölvun minni! Ég ligg í haugnum, kaldur og þungur, Holdið mitt rotnar ekki, blóðið mitt frýs, Nóttin kallar, ég rís úr moldu, Ég geng þar sem lifendur sofa óttalausir. Ég ligg í haugnum, kaldur og þungur, Holdið mitt rotnar ekki, blóðið mitt frýs, Nóttin kallar, ég rís úr moldu, Ég geng þar sem lifendur sofa óttalausir. Ég ligg hér enn, ég ligg hér enn, Draugur gengur, draugur bíður. Ég ligg hér enn, ég ligg hér enn, Draugur gengur, draugur bíður.
The draugr walks! The draugr rises! The draugr walks! The draugr rises! The draugr walks! The draugr rises! The draugr walks! The draugr rises! I lie in the mound, cold and heavy, My flesh does not rot, my blood freezes, The night calls, I rise from the earth, I walk where the living sleep without fear. I lie in the mound, cold and heavy, My flesh does not rot, my blood freezes, The night calls, I rise from the earth, I walk where the living sleep without fear. They buried me deep, they thought I would sleep, But sleep is not what is meant for me, I take the strength I did not take in life, I grow stronger with every night. They sent a man to fight me, He was strong, he was brave, I fell at the last, but with my final breath, I cursed his eyes for ever. I lie in the mound, cold and heavy, My flesh does not rot, my blood freezes, The night calls, I rise from the earth, I walk where the living sleep without fear. I lie in the mound, cold and heavy, My flesh does not rot, my blood freezes, The night calls, I rise from the earth, I walk where the living sleep without fear. You see the darkness now, do you not? Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... It will never leave. I made certain of it with my curse! I lie in the mound, cold and heavy, My flesh does not rot, my blood freezes, The night calls, I rise from the earth, I walk where the living sleep without fear. I lie in the mound, cold and heavy, My flesh does not rot, my blood freezes, The night calls, I rise from the earth, I walk where the living sleep without fear. I lie here still, I lie here still, The draugr walks, the draugr waits. I lie here still, I lie here still, The draugr walks, the draugr waits.
Story Behind The Song
A draugr is the dead man who does not stay in his mound. The sagas treat it as a physical problem, not a haunting: the body is heavy, swollen and cold, it keeps its own flesh, and it grows stronger the longer it walks. It kills livestock and men, and the ground it walks over goes bad. The best-known case is Glámr in Grettis saga. He was a shepherd found dead at Christmas, buried where he lay because the body could not be moved to a church, and afterwards he walked. Grettir Ásmundarson came to fight him and won, but only just. As Glámr lay dying under him, the moon came out behind them, and Glámr told Grettir he would never grow stronger than he was at that moment, that his deeds would turn to ill luck, and that he would always see those eyes in the dark. Grettir became afraid of the dark from that night, and it undid him: he could not bear to be alone, and the outlawry that followed killed him. The song is the draugr's own account. It keeps the point the saga makes about this kind of death: the curse spoken at the end outlasts the fight, and the man who won it lost more than the one who died. -
Lyrics
Skrælingjar komu úr skóginum, Örvar flugu, menn mínir hlupu, Ég stóð kyrr, barn undir hjarta, Ég hafði engan stað að hlaupa til. Ég sá sverð liggja hjá dauðum manni, Ég tók það hægt, ég fann þyngd þess, Óttinn í kringum mig var eins og þoka, En í mér var aðeins ískuldi. Þeir hlupu til skipa, þeir gleymdu heiðri, Ég ein stóð eftir, ég ein valdi. Þeir hlupu til skipa, þeir gleymdu heiðri, Ég ein stóð eftir, ég ein valdi. Freydís stendur ein á ströndinni, Sverð í hendi, dauði í augum, Ég sker hold mitt, ég slæ stálið, Öskrið mitt er stríð sem þeir aldrei sáu. Freydís stendur ein á ströndinni, Sverð í hendi, dauði í augum, Ég sker hold mitt, ég slæ stálið, Öskrið mitt er stríð sem þeir aldrei sáu. Blóð mitt rann niður bringu mína, Stálið sló við hold sem gaf ekkert eftir, Ég öskraði ekki af sársauka, Ég öskraði svo þeir vissu hvað ég var. Skrælingjar sáu konu verða skrímsli, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... Þeir hlupu til skipa sinna. Þeir sneru aldrei aftur. Skrælingjar sáu konu verða skrímsli, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... Þeir hlupu til skipa sinna. Þeir sneru aldrei aftur. Ein kona! Eitt öskur! Ein kona! Eitt öskur! Ein kona! Eitt öskur! Ein kona! Eitt öskur! Freydís stendur ein á ströndinni, Sverð í hendi, dauði í augum, Ég sker hold mitt, ég slæ stálið, Öskrið mitt er stríð sem þeir aldrei sáu. Freydís stendur ein á ströndinni, Sverð í hendi, dauði í augum, Ég sker hold mitt, ég slæ stálið, Öskrið mitt er stríð sem þeir aldrei sáu. Ein stóð ég, ein sigraði ég, Ein stóð ég, ein sigraði ég. Ein stóð ég, ein sigraði ég, Ein stóð ég, ein sigraði ég.
The Skrælingar came out of the forest, Arrows flew, my men ran, I stood still, a child beneath my heart, I had nowhere to run to. I saw a sword lying by a dead man, I took it slowly, I felt its weight, The fear around me was like a fog, But within me there was only ice. They ran for the ships, they forgot honour, I alone remained, I alone chose. They ran for the ships, they forgot honour, I alone remained, I alone chose. Freydís stands alone on the shore, Sword in hand, death in her eyes, I cut my flesh, I strike the steel, My scream is a war they never saw. Freydís stands alone on the shore, Sword in hand, death in her eyes, I cut my flesh, I strike the steel, My scream is a war they never saw. My blood ran down my breast, The steel struck against flesh that gave nothing, I did not scream from pain, I screamed so they would know what I was. The Skrælingar saw a woman become a monster, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... They ran to their ships. They never came back. The Skrælingar saw a woman become a monster, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... They ran to their ships. They never came back. One woman! One scream! One woman! One scream! One woman! One scream! One woman! One scream! Freydís stands alone on the shore, Sword in hand, death in her eyes, I cut my flesh, I strike the steel, My scream is a war they never saw. Freydís stands alone on the shore, Sword in hand, death in her eyes, I cut my flesh, I strike the steel, My scream is a war they never saw. Alone I stood, alone I won, Alone I stood, alone I won. Alone I stood, alone I won, Alone I stood, alone I won.
Story Behind The Song
Eiríks saga rauða puts Freydís Eiríksdóttir, daughter of Eiríkr the Red, at a fight in Vinland. The Norse were attacked by the people the sagas call Skrælingar, and the men broke and ran for the ships. Freydís was heavily pregnant and could not keep up. She called after them that they were cowards, and that if she had a weapon she would do better than any of them. She found a dead man, Þorbrandr Snorrason, with his sword beside him. She took it and turned to face the attackers. The saga's detail is exact: she pulled out her breast from her shift and struck it with the flat of the blade. The Skrælingar were frightened by this and ran back to their boats. The two Vinland sagas describe Freydís irreconcilably. This scene is from Eiríks saga rauða. Grœnlendinga saga has no such fight and instead makes her the organiser of the killings at the Vinland camp, which is the account behind Öxin í myrkri on FORNǪLD. The medieval record does not settle which is true, and the song does not try to. It stays inside the version that is being sung.Another telling
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Lyrics
Upp og niður! Ratatoskr hleypur! Upp og niður! Ratatoskr hleypur! Upp og niður! Ratatoskr hleypur! Upp og niður! Ratatoskr hleypur! Örninn situr efst í trénu, Níðhöggur bítur djúpt í rót, Þeir hafa aldrei sést, aldrei talast, Ég ber orðin á milli þeirra. Ratatoskr hleypur, Ratatoskr lýgur, Hvert orð stærra en það sem sagt var, Upp og niður, alla daga, alla nótt, Kaos lifir vegna mín eins. Ratatoskr hleypur, Ratatoskr lýgur, Hvert orð stærra en það sem sagt var, Upp og niður, alla daga, alla nótt, Kaos lifir vegna mín eins. Ég segi erninum að ormurinn hæðist, Ég segi orminum að örninn hótar, Hvorugur veit að ég breyti orðunum, Hvorugur veit að stríðið er mitt verk. Upp og niður! Ratatoskr hleypur! Upp og niður! Ratatoskr hleypur! Upp og niður! Ratatoskr hleypur! Upp og niður! Ratatoskr hleypur! Ratatoskr hleypur, Ratatoskr lýgur, Hvert orð stærra en það sem sagt var, Upp og niður, alla daga, alla nótt, Kaos lifir vegna mín eins. Ratatoskr hleypur, Ratatoskr lýgur, Hvert orð stærra en það sem sagt var, Upp og niður, alla daga, alla nótt, Kaos lifir vegna mín eins. Lítil skepna, stórt vald, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... Ég þarf ekki klær né tennur. Orð mín eru nóg til að rífa heiminn. Ratatoskr hleypur, Ratatoskr lýgur, Hvert orð stærra en það sem sagt var, Upp og niður, alla daga, alla nótt, Kaos lifir vegna mín eins. Ratatoskr hleypur, Ratatoskr lýgur, Hvert orð stærra en það sem sagt var, Upp og niður, alla daga, alla nótt, Kaos lifir vegna mín eins. Upp og niður, upp og niður, Ratatoskr hleypur enn. Upp og niður, upp og niður, Ratatoskr hleypur enn.
Up and down! Ratatoskr runs! Up and down! Ratatoskr runs! Up and down! Ratatoskr runs! Up and down! Ratatoskr runs! The eagle sits at the top of the tree, Níðhöggr bites deep at the root, They have never met, never spoken, I carry the words between them. Ratatoskr runs, Ratatoskr lies, Every word larger than what was said, Up and down, all day, all night, Chaos lives because of me alone. Ratatoskr runs, Ratatoskr lies, Every word larger than what was said, Up and down, all day, all night, Chaos lives because of me alone. I tell the eagle that the serpent mocks him, I tell the serpent that the eagle threatens, Neither knows that I change the words, Neither knows that the war is my doing. Up and down! Ratatoskr runs! Up and down! Ratatoskr runs! Up and down! Ratatoskr runs! Up and down! Ratatoskr runs! Ratatoskr runs, Ratatoskr lies, Every word larger than what was said, Up and down, all day, all night, Chaos lives because of me alone. Ratatoskr runs, Ratatoskr lies, Every word larger than what was said, Up and down, all day, all night, Chaos lives because of me alone. A small creature, a great power, Ah-ah-ah-aaaah... I need neither claws nor teeth. My words are enough to tear the world apart. Ratatoskr runs, Ratatoskr lies, Every word larger than what was said, Up and down, all day, all night, Chaos lives because of me alone. Ratatoskr runs, Ratatoskr lies, Every word larger than what was said, Up and down, all day, all night, Chaos lives because of me alone. Up and down, up and down, Ratatoskr is running still. Up and down, up and down, Ratatoskr is running still.
Story Behind The Song
Grímnismál and Snorri's Gylfaginning both place a squirrel on Yggdrasill. An eagle sits in the branches at the top of the world tree; the serpent Níðhöggr gnaws at the root below. Ratatoskr runs up and down the trunk carrying what one says to the other. The sources are brief and do not elaborate. Grímnismál says he bears ǫgrandi orð, words of envy or malice, between the eagle and Níðhöggr. That single phrase is the whole character: the tree holds the worlds together, and the one creature that moves freely along it spends its time making the two ends of it hate each other. The song takes the obvious inference and does not go beyond it. Nothing in the sources says the eagle and the serpent ever meet, so what each knows of the other is only what Ratatoskr reports. A messenger who can edit the message is the one with the power, and the smallest animal on the tree is the reason the quarrel never ends. -
Lyrics
Hræsvelgur flýgur! Vindurinn rís! Hræsvelgur flýgur! Vindurinn rís! Hræsvelgur flýgur! Vindurinn rís! Hræsvelgur flýgur! Vindurinn rís! Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Nafn mitt þýðir hræætandi, Ég nærist á því sem fellur og deyr, Sigur og ósigur, allt endar hjá mér, Ég er ekki dauðinn, ég er það sem fylgir. Skip sökkva vegna anda míns, Skógar falla vegna vængja minna, Menn kalla mig storm, kalla mig fárviðri, Þeir vita ekki að ég er fugl, þeir vita ekki að ég er til. Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Ég sá Sif tapa hári sínu, ég sá Hervör vekja dauða, Ég sá Guðrún hefna, ég sá Rollo ganga, Allar sögur enda í vindinum, Allar sögur enda hjá mér. Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Ég sit þar sem himinn endar, Vængir mínir opnast, heimurinn skelfur, Hvert stormur, hver andvari, hver fárviðri, Fæðist úr einu blaki vængja minna. Vindurinn man, vindurinn man, Allar sögur, allar sögur. Vindurinn man, vindurinn man, Allar sögur, allar sögur.
Hræsvelgr flies! The wind rises! Hræsvelgr flies! The wind rises! Hræsvelgr flies! The wind rises! Hræsvelgr flies! The wind rises! I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. My name means corpse-swallower, I feed on what falls and dies, Victory and defeat, all ends with me, I am not death, I am what follows. Ships sink because of my breath, Forests fall because of my wings, Men call me storm, call me gale, They do not know I am a bird, they do not know I exist. I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. I saw Sif lose her hair, I saw Hervör wake the dead, I saw Guðrún avenge, I saw Rollo walk, All stories end in the wind, All stories end with me. I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. I sit where the sky ends, My wings open, the world shudders, Every storm, every breeze, every gale, Is born of a single beat of my wings. The wind remembers, the wind remembers, All stories, all stories. The wind remembers, the wind remembers, All stories, all stories.
Story Behind The Song
Vafþrúðnismál asks where the wind comes from. The answer is Hræsvelgr: a giant in eagle shape who sits at the end of the sky, and from whose wings the wind comes over all men when he takes flight. Snorri repeats it in Gylfaginning. The name means corpse-swallower. The sources give no story beyond that, no deeds and no death; he is an explanation for a thing that happens everywhere and belongs to nobody. That is why the album ends here. Every figure before him left something behind that had to be carried by someone else, and the wind is what carries. The closing verse names four of them and does not add to their stories. Hræsvelgr is not a witness in any source and makes no claim to have judged them. He is what remains once each of them is finished: the weather over the places where the events happened, and the only thing on the record older than all of it.