Vafþrúðnismál

Ráð þú mér nú, Frigg,
alls mik fara tíðir
at vitja Vafþrúðnis;
forvitni mikla
kveð ek mér á fornum stöfum
við þann inn alsvinna jötun.

Say it RAWTH thoo MA-YR noo, FRIGG,
ALLS mik FAH-rah TE-ETH-IR
at VITJ-A VAHF-throoth-nees;
FORV-ITN-I MIKL-A
KVETH ek MA-YR aw forn STURF-UM
VITH THANN inn ALSV-INN-A YOH-tun.

Counsel me, Frigg, for I long to fare,
And Vafthruthnir fain would find;
fit wisdom old with the giant wise
Myself would I seek to match. — Bellows, 1923

The poem opens not in a giant's hall but in Asgard — with a husband asking his wife for permission to leave. Odin names his purpose plainly: he wants to match wits with Vafþrúðnir, the giant whose reputation for wisdom has reached even the gods. This is not a raid. It is a pilgrimage for knowledge, and Frigg will answer before he crosses the threshold.

Heima letja
ek mynda Herjaföðr
í görðum goða;
því at engi jötun
ek hugða jafnramman
sem Vafþrúðni vera.

Say it HA-YM-A LETJ-A
ek MYND-A HERJ-AF-URTHR
E-E GURRTH-UM goth;
thvee at ENG-I YOH-tun
ek HUGTH-A JAFNR-AMM-AN
SEM VAFTHR-O-OTHN-I VER-A.

Heerfather here at home would I keep,
Where the gods together dwell;
Amid all the giants an equal in might
To Vafthruthnir know I none. — Bellows, 1923

Frigg's reply is not fear for his safety — it is respect for the opponent. She would keep the Father of Hosts home if she could, because among all jötnar she knows none equal in might to Vafþrúðnir. The poem establishes its stakes immediately: this is not a contest with a fool. The guest is walking toward the sharpest mind in giant-kind.

Fjölð ek fór,
fjölð ek freistaða,
fjölð ek reynda regin;
hitt vil ek vita,
hvé Vafþrúðnis
salakynni sé.

Say it FJURLTH ek FOHR,
FJURLTH ek FRA-YST-ATH-A,
FJURLTH ek RA-YND-A REG-IN;
hit VIL ek VEE-tah,
HVA-Y VAHF-throoth-nees
SAL-AK-YNN-I SA-Y.

Much have I fared, much have I found,
Much have I got from the gods;
And fain would I know how Vafthruthnir now
Lives in his lofty hall. — Bellows, 1923

Odin's answer is the refrain that will echo through the entire poem: much have I fared, much have I found, much have I got from the gods. He has already paid for wisdom in blood and hanging and sacrifice. He is not coming to Vafþrúðnir as a beginner. He is coming as a collector completing a set — one more hall, one more mind, one more catalogue of what the cosmos contains.

Heill þú farir!
heill þú aftr komir!
heill þú á sinnum sér!
æði þér dugi,
hvars þú skalt, Aldaföðr,
orðum mæla jötun.

Say it hayll thoo FAR-IR!
hayll thoo AFTR KOM-IR!
hayll thoo aw SINN-UM sayr!
A-Y-ETH-I THA-YR DUG-I,
HVARS thoo SKALT, ALD-AF-URTHR,
orth MA-Y-EL-A YOH-tun.

Safe mayst thou go, safe come again,
And safe be the way thou wendest!
Father of men, let thy mind be keen
When speech with the giant thou seekest. — Bellows, 1923

Frigg sends him with the old formula of safe journey — heill þú farir, heill þú aftr komir. Go whole, return whole, keep your wits sharp when you speak with the giant. She does not forbid the journey. She blesses it. In this marriage, Odin's hunger for knowledge is not hidden. It is acknowledged, and sent forth with care.

Fór þá Óðinn
at freista orðspeki
þess ins alsvinna jötuns;
at höllu hann kom,
ok átti Íms faðir;
inn gekk Yggr þegar.

Say it FOHR THAW OH-thin
at FRAY-stah ORTHSP-EK-I
thess INS ALSV-INN-A JURT-UNS;
at hohll hahn KOM,
ok awt E-EMS FATH-IR;
inn GEKK YGGR THEG-AR.

The wisdom then of the giant wise
Forth did he fare to try;
He found the hall of the father of Im,
And in forthwith went Ygg. — Bellows, 1923

The only narrative stanza in the poem: Odin traveled to test the giant's word-wisdom, found the hall of Im's father, and walked in as Yggr — the Terrible One — under a different name than the one he will use inside. The frame is spare. No army, no disguise beyond a traveler's name. One god, one hall, one contest.

Heill þú nú, Vafþrúðnir,
nú em ek í höll kominn
á þik sjalfan sjá;
hitt vil ek fyrst vita,
ef þú fróðr sér
eða alsviðr jötunn.

Say it hayll thoo noo, VAHF-throoth-neer,
noo EM ek E-E hohll KOH-minn
aw thik SJALF-AN syaw;
hit VIL ek FYRST VEE-tah,
EF thoo FROHTHR sayr
ETH-A ALSV-ITHR JURT-UNN.

Vafthruthnir, hail! to thy hall am I come,
For thyself I fain would see;
And first would I ask if wise thou art,
Or, giant, all wisdom hast won. — Bellows, 1923

Hospitality law applies even in a wisdom duel. Odin greets the host properly before he tests him — hail, I have come to your hall, I wish to see you myself, and first I ask whether you are wise or whether you have won all wisdom. The question is both courtesy and probe. Every contest in the Eddas begins at the threshold.

Hvat er þat manna
er í mínum sal
verpumk orði á?
Út þú né komir
órum höllum frá,
nema þú inn snotrari sér.

Say it kvat er that mahn
er E-E ME-EN-UM SAL
VERP-UMK orth aw?
O-OT thoo NA-Y KOM-IR
OHR-UM hohll fraw,
NEH-mah thoo inn SNOTR-AR-I sayr.

Who is the man that speaks to me,
Here in my lofty hall?
Forth from our dwelling thou never shalt fare,
Unless wiser than I thou art. — Bellows, 1923

Vafþrúðnir sets the price of entry: no one leaves his hall unless he proves the wiser. This is not Grímnismál's torture between fires. The giant's threat is intellectual — you will stay until I win, or until you prove you deserve to walk out. The hall itself is the trap. Knowledge is the key.

Gagnráðr ek heiti,
nú emk af göngu kominn,
þyrstr til þinna sala;
laðar þurfi -
hef ek lengi farit -
ok þinna andfanga, jötunn.

Say it GAHG-rawth ek HA-YT-I,
noo EMK AF GURNG-U KOH-minn,
THYRSTR til thinn SAL-A;
LATH-AR THURF-I -
HEF ek LENG-I FAR-IT -
ok thinn ANDF-ANG-A, JURT-UNN.

Gagnrath they call me, and thirsty I come
From a journey hard to thy hall;
Welcome I look for, for long have I fared,
And gentle greeting, giant. — Bellows, 1923

Odin names himself Gagnráðr — the Gain-Counsellor — and plays the weary traveler: thirsty, long journey, in need of welcome. He does not announce himself. He asks for the hospitality due a guest before the contest begins. Even the allfather knows that how you enter a hall shapes what you can take from it.

Hví þú þá, Gagnráðr,
mælisk af golfi fyr?
Far þú í sess í sal!
Þá skal freista,
hvárr fleira viti,
gestr eða inn gamli þulr.

Say it kvee thoo THAW, GAHG-rawth,
MA-Y-EL-ISK AF GOLF-I fur?
FAR thoo E-E SESS E-E SAL!
THAW skahl FRAY-stah,
HVAWRR FLA-YR-A vit,
GEST-ur ETH-A inn GAML-I THULR.

Why standest thou there on the floor whilst thou speakest?
A seat shalt thou have in my hall;
Then soon shall we know whose knowledge is more,
The guest's or the sage's gray. — Bellows, 1923

The giant offers a seat. Standing on the floor while speaking is the posture of a petitioner; the bench is the posture of an equal. Vafþrúðnir is willing to find out whether the guest or the gray sage knows more — but only after the guest is seated like a worthy opponent. The contest will be formal.

Óauðigr maðr,
er til auðigs kemr,
mæli þarft eða þegi;
ofrmælgi mikil,
hygg ek, at illa geti
hveim er við kaldrifjaðan kemr.

Say it OH-OWTH-WTHIGR MATHR,
er til OWTH-WTHIGS kemur,
MA-Y-EL-I THARFT ETH-A THEG-I;
OFRM-A-Y-ELG-I MIK-IL,
HYGG ek, at ILL-A GET-I
HVA-YM er VITH KALDR-IFJ-ATH-AN kemur.

If a poor man reaches the home of the rich,
Let him wisely speak or be still;
For to him who speaks with the hard of heart
Will chattering ever work ill. — Bellows, 1923

A stanza that sounds like Hávamál because it may have wandered here from that tradition: the poor man in the rich man's house should speak wisely or be silent. Chatter with the cold-hearted brings harm. Odin offers proverbial wisdom before the riddles begin — a reminder that in a contest of minds, unnecessary speech is a liability.

Seg þú mér, Gagnráðr,
alls þú á golfi vill
þíns of freista frama,
hvé sá hestr heitir,
er hverjan dregr
dag of dróttmögu.

Say it SEG thoo MA-YR, GAHG-rawth,
ALLS thoo aw GOLF-I VILL
THE-ENS ov FRAY-stah FRAH-mah,
HVA-Y saw HESTR HA-YT-IR,
er HVERJ-AN DREGR
DAG ov DROHTTM-URG-U.

Speak forth now, Gagnrath, if there from the floor
Thou wouldst thy wisdom make known:
What name has the steed that each morn anew
The day for mankind doth draw? — Bellows, 1923

The giant asks the first riddle: what horse draws day across mankind each morning? The questions begin on the floor, before the wager of heads in stanza 19. Vafþrúðnir tests whether this traveler knows the machinery of time — the horses that pull light and darkness across the sky.

Skinfaxi heitir,
er inn skíra dregr
dag of dróttmögu;
hesta beztr
þykkir hann með Hreiðgotum;
ey lýsir mön af mari.

Say it SKIN-fak-see HA-YT-IR,
er inn SKE-ER-A DREGR
DAG ov DROHTTM-URG-U;
HEST-A BEZTR
THYKK-IR hahn METH HRA-YTHG-OT-UM;
A-Y LE-ES-IR MURN AF MAR-I.

Skinfaxi is he, the steed who for men
The glittering day doth draw;
The best of horses to heroes he seems,
And brightly his mane doth burn. — Bellows, 1923

Skinfaxi — Shining-Mane — draws day for men. Best of horses, his mane lights the world. Odin answers correctly and easily. The contest appears balanced, but the audience already knows who sits in the guest seat. The giant is measuring a god against horses any skald could name.

Seg þú þat, Gagnráðr,
alls þú á golfi vill
þíns of freista frama,
hvé sá jór heitir,
er austan dregr
nótt of nýt regin.

Say it SEG thoo that, GAHG-rawth,
ALLS thoo aw GOLF-I VILL
THE-ENS ov FRAY-stah FRAH-mah,
HVA-Y saw JOHR HA-YT-IR,
er OWST-WSTAN DREGR
nohht ov NE-ET REG-IN.

Speak forth now, Gagnrath, if there from the floor
Thou wouldst thy wisdom make known:
What name has the steed that from East anew
Brings night for the noble gods? — Bellows, 1923

The second horse-question: what steed brings night from the east for the noble gods? Day and night are paired. The giant moves from mankind's morning to the gods' evening. The riddles map the clock of the cosmos before they map its origins.

Hrímfaxi heitir,
er hverja dregr
nótt of nýt regin;
méldropa fellir hann
morgin hvern;
þaðan kemr dögg um dala.

Say it HRIM-fak-see HA-YT-IR,
er HVERJ-A DREGR
nohht ov NE-ET REG-IN;
MA-YLDR-OP-A FELL-IR hahn
MORG-IN HVERN;
THATH-AN kemur DURGG um DAL-A.

Hrimfaxi name they the steed that anew
Brings night for the noble gods;
Each morning foam from his bit there falls,
And thence come the dews in the dales. — Bellows, 1923

Hrimfaxi — Frosty-Mane — brings night. Foam falls from his bit each morning, and from that foam come the dews in the valleys. The answer ties weather to myth: the dew on the grass is leftover night-foam from a horse's bridle. The Norse cosmos is never purely symbolic. It drips on your fields.

Seg þú þat, Gagnráðr,
alls þú á golfi vill
þíns of freista frama,
hvé sú á heitir,
er deilir með jötna sonum
grund ok með goðum.

Say it SEG thoo that, GAHG-rawth,
ALLS thoo aw GOLF-I VILL
THE-ENS ov FRAY-stah FRAH-mah,
HVA-Y SO-O aw HA-YT-IR,
er DA-YL-IR METH JURTN-A SON-UM
GRUND ok METH goth.

Speak forth now, Gagnrath, if there from the floor
Thou wouldst thy wisdom make known:
What name has the river that 'twixt the realms
Of the gods and the giants goes? — Bellows, 1923

Third question: what river runs between the lands of gods and giants? The poem moves from sky to boundary. Every wisdom catalogue needs a border — the place where one kind of being cannot casually cross into another's territory.

Ífing heitir á,
er deilir með jötna sonum
grund ok með goðum;
opin renna
hon skal of aldrdaga;
verðr-at íss á á.

Say it EE-fing HA-YT-IR aw,
er DA-YL-IR METH JURTN-A SON-UM
GRUND ok METH goth;
OP-IN RENN-A
HON skahl ov ALDRD-AG-A;
verthur - at E-ESS aw aw.

Ifing is the river that 'twixt the realms
Of the gods and the giants goes;
For all time ever open it flows,
No ice on the river there is. — Bellows, 1923

Ifing never freezes. It runs open forever between gods and giants. Because ice cannot form on it, the river is a permanent passage — and a permanent exposure. Neither side can seal the border with winter. The cosmos keeps its doors unlocked.

Seg þú þat, Gagnráðr,
alls þú á golfi vill
þíns of freista frama,
hvé sá völlr heitir,
er finnask vígi at
Surtr ok in svásu goð.

Say it SEG thoo that, GAHG-rawth,
ALLS thoo aw GOLF-I VILL
THE-ENS ov FRAY-stah FRAH-mah,
HVA-Y saw VURLLR HA-YT-IR,
er FINN-ASK VE-EG-I at
SURTR ok IN SVAWS-WSU goth.

Speak forth now, Gagnrath, if there from the floor
Thou wouldst thy wisdom make known:
What name has the field where in fight shall meet
Surt and the gracious gods? — Bellows, 1923

Fourth question: what field will host the battle between Surt and the gracious gods? The riddles have reached Ragnarök before the wager of heads. Vafþrúðnir tests whether the guest knows where the last war will be fought.

Vígriðr heitir völlr,
er finnask vígi at
Surtr ok in svásu goð;
hundrað rasta
hann er á hverjan veg;
sá er þeim völlr vitaðr.

Say it VE-EGR-ITHR HA-YT-IR VURLLR,
er FINN-ASK VE-EG-I at
SURTR ok IN SVAWS-WSU goth;
HUNDR-ATH RAST-A
hahn er aw HVERJ-AN VEG;
saw er thaym VURLLR VIT-ATHR.

Vigrith is the field where in fight shall meet
Surt and the gracious gods;
A hundred miles each way does it measure,
And so are its boundaries set. — Bellows, 1923

Vígríðr — the Field of Battle — measures a hundred leagues every way. Snorri quotes this stanza because the scale matters: Ragnarök is not an alley fight. It is a war with a named plain large enough to hold gods, giants, and fire.

Fróðr ertu nú, gestr,
far þú á bekk jötuns,
ok mælumk í sessi saman;
höfði veðja
vit skulum höllu í,
gestr, of geðspeki.

Say it FROHTHR ERT-U noo, GEST-ur,
FAR thoo aw BEKK JURT-UNS,
ok MA-Y-EL-UMK E-E SESS-I SAM-AN;
HURFTH-I VETHJ-A
vit SKUL-UM hohll E-E,
GEST-ur, ov GETHSP-EK-I.

Wise art thou, guest! To my bench shalt thou go,
In our seats let us speak together;
Here in the hall our heads, O guest,
Shall we wager our wisdom upon. — Bellows, 1923

The turning point. Vafþrúðnir declares the guest wise, invites him to the bench, and proposes they wager their heads on whose wisdom is greater. What began as hospitality is now mortal — for the giant. He has rashly bet what he cannot afford to lose against a guest he has not identified.

Seg þú þat it eina,
ef þitt æði dugir
ok þú, Vafþrúðnir, vitir,
hvaðan jörð of kom
eða upphiminn
fyrst, inn fróði jötunn.

Say it SEG thoo that it A-YN-A,
EF thit A-Y-ETH-I DUG-IR
ok thoo, VAHF-throoth-neer, vit,
HVATH-AN JURRTH ov KOM
ETH-A UPPH-IM-INN
FYRST, inn FROHTH-I JURT-UNN.

First answer me well, if thy wisdom avails,
And thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
In earliest time whence came the earth,
Or the sky, thou giant sage? — Bellows, 1923

Odin takes the questioning seat. First: whence came earth and sky in earliest time? The contest shifts from names to origins. If Grímnismál is the floor plan of the cosmos, Vafþrúðnismál is the genealogy — where everything came from, in numbered order.

Ór Ymis holdi
var jörð of sköpuð,
en ór beinum björg,
himinn ór hausi
ins hrímkalda jötuns,
en ór sveita sær.

Say it OHR YM-IS HOLD-I
VAR JURRTH ov SKURP-UTH,
EN OHR BA-YN-UM BJURRG,
HIM-INN OHR HOWS-WSI
INS HRE-EMK-ALD-A JURT-UNS,
EN OHR SVA-YT-A SA-Y-ER.

Out of Ymir's flesh was fashioned the earth,
And the mountains were made of his bones;
The sky from the frost-cold giant's skull,
And the ocean out of his blood. — Bellows, 1923

From Ymir's body: flesh to earth, bones to mountains, skull to sky, blood to sea. The creation story matches Völuspá because the poets drew from a shared well. The world is literally made from a slain giant. Violence is not what happened after creation. Violence is the material.

Seg þú þat annat,
ef þitt æði dugir
ok þú, Vafþrúðnir, vitir,
hvaðan máni kom,
sá er ferr menn yfir,
eða sól it sama.

Say it SEG thoo that ANN-AT,
EF thit A-Y-ETH-I DUG-IR
ok thoo, VAHF-throoth-neer, vit,
HVATH-AN MAWN-WNI KOM,
saw er FERR men UV-yir,
ETH-A SOHL it SAM-A.

Next answer me well, if thy wisdom avails,
And thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
Whence came the moon, o'er the world of men
That fares, and the flaming sun? — Bellows, 1923

Second: whence moon and sun over the world of men? Light and time are next. The poem is building the cosmos in layers — body, then lamps, then seasons.

Mundilfari heitir,
hann er mána faðir
ok svá Sólar it sama;
himin hverfa
þau skulu hverjan dag
öldum at ártali.

Say it MOON-dil-fah-ree HA-YT-IR,
hahn er MAWN-WNA FATH-IR
ok svaw SOHL-AR it SAM-A;
HIM-IN HVERF-A
THOW SKUL-U HVERJ-AN DAG
URLD-UM at AWRT-WRTAL-I.

Mundilferi is he who begat the moon,
And fathered the flaming sun;
The round of heaven each day they run,
To tell the time for men. — Bellows, 1923

Mundilfari fathered both moon and sun; they run the round of heaven each day as measure for men. Snorri adds the story that the gods were angry at the names and set the children to drive the chariots — punishment turned into cosmology. The seeker notes: timekeeping begins in a father's pride.

Seg þú þat it þriðja,
alls þik svinnan kveða
ok þú, Vafþrúðnir, vitir,
hvaðan dagr of kom,
sá er ferr drótt yfir,
eða nótt með niðum.

Say it SEG thoo that it THRITHJ-A,
ALLS thik SVINN-AN KVETH-A
ok thoo, VAHF-throoth-neer, vit,
HVATH-AN DAGR ov KOM,
saw er FERR DROHTT UV-yir,
ETH-A nohht METH NITH-UM.

Third answer me well, if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
Whence came the day, o'er mankind that fares,
Or night with the narrowing moon? — Bellows, 1923

Third: whence day and night? The questions are numbered now — a formal exam with a syllabus. Odin is not improvising. He is walking Vafþrúðnir through the entire creation curriculum.

Dellingr heitir,
hann er Dags faðir,
en Nótt var Nörvi borin;
ný ok nið
skópu nýt regin
öldum at ártali.

Say it DEL-ling-ur HA-YT-IR,
hahn er DAGS FATH-IR,
EN nohht VAR NURRV-I BOR-IN;
NE-E ok NITH
SKOHP-U NE-ET REG-IN
URLD-UM at AWRT-WRTAL-I.

The father of day is Delling called,
And the night was begotten by Nor;
Full moon and old by the gods were fashioned,
To tell the time for men. — Bellows, 1923

Delling fathered day; Nor fathered night; the gods made moon-phases for mankind's measure. Day and night are a family tree, not abstractions. The clock of the world is genealogical.

Seg þú þat it fjórða,
alls þik fróðan kveða,
ok þú, Vafþrúðnir, vitir,
hvaðan vetr of kom
eða varmt sumar
fyrst með fróð regin.

Say it SEG thoo that it FJOHRTH-A,
ALLS thik FROHTH-AN KVETH-A,
ok thoo, VAHF-throoth-neer, vit,
HVATH-AN VETR ov KOM
ETH-A VARMT SUM-AR
FYRST METH FROHTH REG-IN.

Fourth answer me well, if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
Whence did winter come, or the summer warm,
First with the gracious gods? — Bellows, 1923

Fourth: whence winter and summer first among the gods? Season follows day and night. The cosmos is not only built — it cycles. Warmth and cold have fathers too.

Vindsvalr heitir,
hann er Vetrar faðir,
en Svásuðr sumars.

Say it VIND-sval-ur HA-YT-IR,
hahn er VETR-AR FATH-IR,
EN SVAH-soo-thur SUM-ARS.

Vindsval he was who was winter's father,
And Svosuth summer begat. — Bellows, 1923

Vindsval fathered winter; Svásuðr fathered summer. The manuscript preserves only these two lines; later paper copies add a closing couplet about both lasting until the gods' destruction. This page presents the attested text. The lacuna is honest — not every stanza survived whole.

Seg þú þat it fimmta,
alls þik fróðan kveða,
ok þú, Vafþrúðnir, vitir,
hverr ása ellztr
eða Ymis niðja
yrði í árdaga.

Say it SEG thoo that it FIMMT-A,
ALLS thik FROHTH-AN KVETH-A,
ok thoo, VAHF-throoth-neer, vit,
kverr AWS-WSA ELLZTR
ETH-A YM-IS NITHJ-A
YRTH-I E-E AWRD-WRDAG-A.

Fifth answer me well, if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
What giant first was fashioned of old,
And the eldest of Ymir's kin? — Bellows, 1923

Fifth: who was the eldest of Æsir or Ymir's kin in ancient days? The question reaches before the world was made — into giant genealogy.

Örófi vetra
áðr væri jörð of sköpuð,
þá var Bergelmir borinn,
Þrúðgelmir
var þess faðir,
en Aurgelmir afi.

Say it URR-OHF-I VETR-A
AW-thur VA-Y-ER-I JURRTH ov SKURP-UTH,
THAW VAR BER-gel-meer BOR-INN,
THRO-OTHG-ELM-IR
VAR thess FATH-IR,
EN OWR-gel-meer AF-I.

Winters unmeasured ere earth was made
Was the birth of Bergelmir;
Thruthgelmir's son was the giant strong,
And Aurgelmir's grandson of old. — Bellows, 1923

Countless winters before earth existed, Bergelmir was born — Thrúðgelmir's son, Aurgelmir's grandson. Bergelmir is the survivor who escaped when Ymir's blood drowned the frost-giants. The eldest is not the first giant. It is the one who lived.

Seg þú þat it sétta,
alls þik svinnan kveða,
ok þú, Vafþrúðnir, vitir,
hvaðan Aurgelmir kom
með jötna sonum
fyrst, inn fróði jötunn.

Say it SEG thoo that it SA-YTT-A,
ALLS thik SVINN-AN KVETH-A,
ok thoo, VAHF-throoth-neer, vit,
HVATH-AN OWR-gel-meer KOM
METH JURTN-A SON-UM
FYRST, inn FROHTH-I JURT-UNN.

Sixth answer me well, if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
Whence did Aurgelmir come with the giants' kin,
Long since, thou giant sage? — Bellows, 1923

Sixth: whence came Aurgelmir with the race of giants? Odin pushes further back — before Bergelmir's boat, before the world, to the first emergence of giant-kind.

Ór Élivágum
stukku eitrdropar,
svá óx, unz varð jötunn;
þar eru órar ættir
komnar allar saman;
því er þat æ allt til atalt.

Say it OHR A-YL-IV-AWG-WGUM
STUKK-U A-YTRDR-OP-AR,
svaw OHX, oonz VARTH JURT-UNN;
thar EH-roo OHR-AR A-Y-ETT-IR
KOMN-AR AHL-lar SAM-AN;
thvee er that A-Y-E ALLT til AT-ALT.

Down from Elivagar did venom drop,
And waxed till a giant it was;
And thence arose our giants' race,
And thus so fierce are we found. — Bellows, 1923

From Élivágar's poison drops a giant grew; thence came all giant races — and thus they are fierce. The origin is venom and accumulation. Giants are not gentle because their material was dripping poison in the gap before the world. Snorri's prose supplies the fuller ice-and-fire account; the stanza gives the essence.

Seg þú þat it sjaunda,
alls þik svinnan kveða,
ok þú, Vafþrúðnir, vitir,
hvé sá börn gat,
inn baldni jötunn,
er hann hafði-t gýgjar gaman.

Say it SEG thoo that it SJOWND-WNDA,
ALLS thik SVINN-AN KVETH-A,
ok thoo, VAHF-throoth-neer, vit,
HVA-Y saw BURRN GAT,
inn BALDN-I JURT-UNN,
er hahn HAV-thee - T GE-EGJ-AR GAM-AN.

Seventh answer me well, if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
How begat he children, the giant grim,
Who never a giantess knew? — Bellows, 1923

Seventh: how did the grim giant beget children without a giantess? The question is biological and mythic at once — Ymir's self-generation.

Undir hendi vaxa
kváðu hrímþursi
mey ok mög saman;
fótr við fæti
gat ins fróða jötuns
sexhöfðaðan son.

Say it oond HEND-I VAX-A
KVAWTH-WTHU HRE-EMTH-URS-I
MA-Y ok MURG SAM-AN;
FOHTR VITH FA-Y-ET-I
GAT INS FROHTH-A JURT-UNS
SEXH-URFTH-ATH-AN SON.

They say 'neath the arms of the giant of ice
Grew man-child and maid together;
And foot with foot did the wise one fashion
A son that six heads bore. — Bellows, 1923

Under the frost-giant's arm grew maid and man together; foot with foot fashioned a six-headed son. The cosmos reproduces strangely at the beginning. Multi-headed children and limb-born pairs are not anomalies in the oldest layer of the mythology. They are how the first beings multiplied.

Seg þú þat it átta,
alls þik svinnan kveða,
ok þú, Vafþrúðnir, vitir,
hvat þú fyrst of mant
eða fremst of veizt,
þú ert alsviðr, jötunn.

Say it SEG thoo that it awt,
ALLS thik SVINN-AN KVETH-A,
ok thoo, VAHF-throoth-neer, vit,
kvat thoo FYRST ov MANT
ETH-A FREMST ov VA-YZT,
thoo ERT ALSV-ITHR, JURT-UNN.

Eighth answer me well, if wise thou art called,
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
What farthest back dost thou bear in mind?
For wide is thy wisdom, giant! — Bellows, 1923

Eighth: what is the farthest back you remember? Odin asks the giant for his deepest memory — not a fact from cosmology but the horizon of personal recall.

Örófi vetra
áðr væri jörð of sköpuð,
þá var Bergelmir borinn;
þat ek fyrst of man,
er sá inn fróði jötunn
á var lúðr of lagiðr.

Say it URR-OHF-I VETR-A
AW-thur VA-Y-ER-I JURRTH ov SKURP-UTH,
THAW VAR BER-gel-meer BOR-INN;
that ek FYRST ov mahn,
er saw inn FROHTH-I JURT-UNN
aw VAR LO-OTHR ov LAG-ITHR.

Winters unmeasured ere earth was made
Was the birth of Bergelmir;
This first knew I well, when the giant wise
In a boat of old was borne. — Bellows, 1923

Bergelmir in the boat — the giant's first memory matches stanza 29's genealogy. Before earth, before measure, a wise giant lay in a boat on poisoned waters. Survival is the oldest story Vafþrúðnir knows.

Seg þú þat it níunda,
alls þik svinnan kveða,
ok þú, Vafþrúðnir, vitir,
hvaðan vindr of kemr,
svá at ferr vág yfir;
æ menn han sjalfan of sjá.

Say it SEG thoo that it NE-E-UND-A,
ALLS thik SVINN-AN KVETH-A,
ok thoo, VAHF-throoth-neer, vit,
HVATH-AN VINDR ov kemur,
svaw at FERR VAWG UV-yir;
A-Y-E men HAN SJALF-AN ov syaw.

Ninth answer me well, if wise thou art called
If thou knowest it, Vafthruthnir, now:
Whence comes the wind that fares o'er the waves
Yet never itself is seen? — Bellows, 1923

Ninth: whence the wind that crosses waves yet is never seen? From creation and memory to invisible force. The poem catalogues not only things but processes — what moves the world without showing its face.

Hræsvelgr heitir,
er sitr á himins enda,
jötunn í arnar ham;
af hans vængjum
kvæðu vind koma
alla menn yfir.

Say it HRAY-svel-gur HA-YT-IR,
er SITR aw HIM-INS END-A,
JURT-UNN E-E ARN-AR HAM;
AF HANS VA-Y-ENGJ-UM
KVA-Y-ETH-U VIND KOM-A
ALL-A men UV-yir.

In an eagle's guise at the end of heaven
Hræsvelg sits, they say;
And from his wings does the wind come forth
To move o'er the world of men. — Bellows, 1923

Hræsvelg sits at heaven's end in eagle's form; wind comes from his wings over men. The wind has a body, far away, eating corpses in a name that means Corpse-Eater. Even the air you breathe traces to a predator at the sky's edge.

Seg þú þat it tíunda,
alls þú tíva rök
öll, Vafþrúðnir, vitir,
hvaðan Njörðr of kom
með ása sonum -
hofum ok hörgum
hann ræðr hundmörgum -
ok varð-at hann ásum alinn.

Say it SEG thoo that it TE-E-UND-A,
ALLS thoo TE-EV-A RURK
URLL, VAHF-throoth-neer, vit,
HVATH-AN NJURRTHR ov KOM
METH AWS-WSA SON-UM -
HOF-UM ok HURRG-UM
hahn RA-Y-ETHR HUNDM-URRG-UM -
ok VARTH - at hahn AWS-WSUM AL-INN.

Tenth answer me now, if thou knowest all
The fate that is fixed for the gods:
Whence came up Njorth to the kin of the gods,
(Rich in temples and shrines he rules,)
Though of gods he was never begot? — Bellows, 1923

Tenth: whence Njörðr among the Æsir, though never born of gods? The contest turns to divine politics — a Vanir hostage who rules temples and shrines among the Æsir.

Í Vanaheimi
skópu hann vís regin
ok seldu at gíslingu goðum,
í aldar rök
hann mun aftr koma
heim með vísum vönum.

Say it E-E VAN-AH-A-YM-I
SKOHP-U hahn VE-ES REG-IN
ok SELD-U at GE-ESL-ING-U goth,
E-E ALD-AR RURK
hahn MUN AFTR KOM-A
HA-YM METH VE-ES-UM VURN-UM.

In the home of the Wanes did the wise ones create him,
And gave him as pledge to the gods;
At the fall of the world shall he fare once more
Home to the Wanes so wise. — Bellows, 1923

The wise powers made Njörðr in Vanaheim and gave him as hostage; at the world's end he will fare home to the wise Vanir. Hostage exchange ended a war between Æsir and Vanir. Njörðr belongs to both stories — god among gods, Vanir among Vanir, destined to return when the world falls.

Seg þú þat et ellifta,
hvar ýtar túnum í
höggvask hverjan dag;
val þeir kjósa
ok ríða vígi frá,
sitja meir of sáttir saman.

Say it SEG thoo that ET ELL-IFT-A,
kvar E-ET-AR TO-ON-UM E-E
HURGGV-ASK HVERJ-AN DAG;
VAL thayr KJOHS-A
ok REE-thah VE-EG-I fraw,
SIT-yah MA-YR ov sawt SAM-AN.

Eleventh answer me well, if thou knowest all
The fate that is fixed for the gods:
What men are they who in Othin's home
Each day to fight go forth? — Bellows, 1923

Eleventh: who are the men who fight every day in Odin's courts? Odin asks about his own hall — the einherjar before the name is spoken.

Allir einherjar
Óðins túnum í
höggvask hverjan dag,
val þeir kjósa
ok ríða vígi frá,
sitja meirr of sáttir saman.

Say it AHL-leer A-YNH-ERJ-AR
OHTH-INS TO-ON-UM E-E
HURGGV-ASK HVERJ-AN DAG,
VAL thayr KJOHS-A
ok REE-thah VE-EG-I fraw,
SIT-yah MA-YRR ov sawt SAM-AN.

The heroes all in Othin's hall
Each day to fight go forth;
They fell each other, and fare from the fight
All healed full soon to sit. — Bellows, 1923

All the einherjar in Odin's courts fight each day, choose the slain, ride from battle, and sit healed at table together. Valhalla's daily war is answered in full: death in the morning, feast by evening, repeat forever. The army trains because the last war is coming.

Seg þú þat it tolfta,
hví þú tíva rök
öll, Vafþrúðnir, vitir,
frá jötna rúnum
ok allra goða
segir þú it sannasta,
inn alsvinni jötunn.

Say it SEG thoo that it TOLFT-A,
kvee thoo TE-EV-A RURK
URLL, VAHF-throoth-neer, vit,
fraw JURTN-A roon
ok AHL-lur goth
SEG-IR thoo it SANN-AST-A,
inn ALSV-INN-I JURT-UNN.

Twelfth answer me now how all thou knowest
Of the fate that is fixed for the gods;
Of the runes of the gods and the giants' race
The truth indeed dost thou tell,
(And wide is thy wisdom, giant!) — Bellows, 1923

Twelfth: you know the fates of gods — do you speak truth of runes of gods and giants? Odin asks for a meta-answer: not another fact, but confirmation that the giant's knowledge is genuine across all worlds.

Frá jötna rúnum
ok allra goða
ek kann segja satt,
því at hvern hef ek
heim of komit;
níu kom ek heima
fyr Niflhel neðan;
hinig deyja ór helju halir.

Say it fraw JURTN-A roon
ok AHL-lur goth
ek KANN SEG-yah SATT,
thvee at HVERN HEF ek
HA-YM ov KOM-IT;
NE-E-U KOM ek HA-YM-A
fur NIFLH-EL NETH-AN;
HIN-IG DA-YJ-A OHR HELJ-U HAL-IR.

Of the runes of the gods and the giants' race
The truth indeed can I tell,
(For to every world have I won;)
To nine worlds came I, to Niflhel beneath,
The home where dead men dwell. — Bellows, 1923

Vafþrúðnir claims truth about divine and giant runes; he has come to every world, nine homes, even beneath Niflhel where the dead dwell. The giant's credential is travel — he has walked the full map. Odin has been building the same map from the other direction.

Fjölð ek fór,
fjölð ek freistaðak,
fjölð ek of reynda regin:
Hvat lifir manna,
þá er inn mæra líðr
fimbulvetr með firum?

Say it FJURLTH ek FOHR,
FJURLTH ek FRA-YST-ATH-AK,
FJURLTH ek ov RA-YND-A REG-IN:
kvat LIF-IR mahn,
THAW er inn MA-Y-ER-A LE-ETHR
FIMB-ULV-ETR METH FIR-UM?

Much have I fared, much have I found,
Much have I got of the gods:
What shall live of mankind when at last there comes
The mighty winter to men? — Bellows, 1923

Odin shifts from origins to aftermath: what will live when the mighty fimbul-winter comes to men? The questions are no longer numbered. The future — survival past Ragnarök — is now the subject.

Líf ok Lifþrasir,
en þau leynask munu
í holti Hoddmímis;
morgindöggvar
þau sér at mat hafa,
en þaðan af aldir alask.

Say it LE-EF ok LEEF-thrah-seer,
EN THOW LA-YN-ASK MUN-U
E-E HOLT-I HOD-mee-mees;
MORG-IND-URGGV-AR
THOW sayr at MAT HAH-fah,
EN THATH-AN AF ALD-IR AL-ASK.

In Hoddmimir's wood shall hide themselves
Lif and Lifthrasir then;
The morning dews for meat shall they have,
Such food shall men then find. — Bellows, 1923

Líf and Lifþrasir will hide in Hoddmímir's wood, feed on morning dew, and from them new ages will spring. Humanity does not end in fire. Two people in a forest with dew for food carry the species past the end of gods. Snorri and Völuspá echo this; the poem plants hope inside the exam.

Fjölð ek fór,
fjölð ek freistaðak,
fjölð ek of reynda regin:
Hvaðan kemr sól
á inn slétta himin,
er þessa hefr fenrir farit?

Say it FJURLTH ek FOHR,
FJURLTH ek FRA-YST-ATH-AK,
FJURLTH ek ov RA-YND-A REG-IN:
HVATH-AN kemur SOHL
aw inn SLA-YTT-A HIM-IN,
er thess HEFR FENR-IR FAR-IT?

Much have I fared, much have I found,
Much have I got of the gods:
Whence comes the sun to the smooth sky back,
When Fenrir has snatched it forth? — Bellows, 1923

When Fenrir has taken the sun, whence will a sun return to the smooth sky? The wolf eats the lamp of day. The question is how light comes back — not whether darkness wins forever.

Eina dóttur
berr alfröðull,
áðr hana fenrir fari;
sú skal ríða,
þá er regin deyja,
móður brautir, mær.

Say it A-YN-A DOHTT-UR
BERR ALFR-URTH-ULL,
AW-thur HAN-A FENR-IR FAR-I;
SO-O skahl REE-thah,
THAW er REG-IN DA-YJ-A,
MOHTH-UR BROWT-WTIR, MA-Y-ER.

A daughter bright Alfrothul bears
Ere Fenrir snatches her forth;
Her mother's paths shall the maiden tread
When the gods to death have gone. — Bellows, 1923

Alfröðull — the Elf-Beam, the sun — bears a daughter before the wolf takes her; that maiden will ride her mother's path when the gods are dead. The sun has a succession plan. Even after Ragnarök, the daughter rides the old road across the sky.

Fjölð ek fór,
fjölð ek freistaðak,
fjölð ek of reynda regin:
Hverjar ro þær meyjar,
er líða mar yfir,
fróðgeðjaðar fara?

Say it FJURLTH ek FOHR,
FJURLTH ek FRA-YST-ATH-AK,
FJURLTH ek ov RA-YND-A REG-IN:
HVERJ-AR RO THA-Y-ER MA-YJ-AR,
er LE-ETH-A MAR UV-yir,
FROHTHG-ETHJ-ATH-AR FAH-rah?

Much have I fared, much have I found,
Much have I got of the gods:
What maidens are they, so wise of mind,
That forth o'er the sea shall fare? — Bellows, 1923

What wise-minded maidens will fare over the sea? The questions turn to who protects and who endures — female powers crossing water at the world's end.

Þríar þjóðár
falla þorp yfir
meyja Mögþrasis;
hamingjur einar
þær er í heimi eru,
þó þær með jötnum alask.

Say it THRE-E-AR THJOHTH-AWR
FALL-A THORP UV-yir
MA-YJ-A MURG-thrah-sees;
HAM-INGJ-UR A-YN-AR
THA-Y-ER er E-E HA-YM-I EH-roo,
THOH THA-Y-ER METH JURTN-UM AL-ASK.

O'er Mogthrasir's hill shall the maidens pass,
And three are their throngs that come;
They all shall protect the dwellers on earth,
Though they come of the giants' kin. — Bellows, 1923

Three throngs of maidens pass over Mogþrasir's hill — hamingjur, luck-givers, born of giants yet protecting those who dwell on earth. They come from giant stock and serve human fortune. The cosmos does not sort cleanly into enemies and allies at the end.

Fjölð ek fór,
fjölð ek freistaðak,
fjölð ek of reynda regin:
Hverir ráða æsir
eignum goða,
þá er sloknar Surta logi?

Say it FJURLTH ek FOHR,
FJURLTH ek FRA-YST-ATH-AK,
FJURLTH ek ov RA-YND-A REG-IN:
HVER-IR RAWTH-WTHA AY-seer
A-YGN-UM goth,
THAW er SLOKN-AR SURT-A LOG-I?

Much have I fared, much have I found,
Much have I got of the gods:
Who then shall rule the realm of the gods,
When the fires of Surt have sunk? — Bellows, 1923

Who will rule the gods' realms when Surt's fire has sunk? After survival and light and luck, the question is government — who holds the temples when the old pantheon is ash.

Víðarr ok Váli
byggja vé goða,
þá er sloknar Surta logi,
Móði ok Magni
skulu Mjöllni hafa
Vingnis at vígþroti.

Say it VEE-thah ok VAWL-WLI
BYGGJ-A VA-Y goth,
THAW er SLOKN-AR SURT-A LOG-I,
MOHTH-I ok MAGN-I
SKUL-U MJURLLN-I HAH-fah
VINGN-IS at VE-EGTHR-OT-I.

In the gods' home Vithar and Vali shall dwell,
When the fires of Surt have sunk;
Mothi and Magni shall Mjollnir have
When Vingnir falls in fight. — Bellows, 1923

Víðarr and Váli will dwell in the gods' sanctuaries; Móði and Magni will inherit Mjöllnir when Vingnir falls. Sons inherit what fathers die defending. Thor's hammer outlasts Thor. Odin's avenger and Baldr's avenger keep the holy places. The world after Ragnarök is not godless — it is staffed by survivors.

Fjölð ek fór,
fjölð ek freistaðak,
fjölð ek of reynda regin:
Hvat verðr Óðni
at aldrlagi,
þá er of rjúfask regin?

Say it FJURLTH ek FOHR,
FJURLTH ek FRA-YST-ATH-AK,
FJURLTH ek ov RA-YND-A REG-IN:
kvat verthur OHTHN-I
at ALDRL-AG-I,
THAW er ov RJO-OF-ASK REG-IN?

Much have I fared, much have I found,
Much have I got of the gods:
What shall bring the doom of death to Othin,
When the gods to destruction go? — Bellows, 1923

What will be Odin's doom when the gods are destroyed? The guest asks about his own death. The contest has become personal.

Ulfr gleypa
mun Aldaföðr,
þess mun Víðarr vreka;
kalda kjafta
hann klyfja mun
vitnis vígi at.

Say it ULFR GLA-YP-A
MUN ALD-AF-URTHR,
thess MUN VEE-thah VREK-A;
KALD-A KJAFT-A
hahn KLYFJ-A MUN
VITN-IS VE-EG-I at.

The wolf shall fell the father of men,
And this shall Vithar avenge;
The terrible jaws shall he tear apart,
And so the wolf shall he slay. — Bellows, 1923

The wolf will swallow the Father of Men; Víðarr will avenge him, tear the cold jaws, and kill the wolf. Odin learns his end from his own mouth asking the question. Fenrir is named. The avenger is named. The mechanism is precise.

Fjölð ek fór,
fjölð ek freistaðak,
fjölð ek of reynda regin:
Hvat mælti Óðinn,
áðr á bál stigi,
sjalfr í eyra syni?

Say it FJURLTH ek FOHR,
FJURLTH ek FRA-YST-ATH-AK,
FJURLTH ek ov RA-YND-A REG-IN:
kvat MA-Y-ELT-I OH-thin,
AW-thur aw BAWL STIG-I,
SJALFR E-E A-YR-A SYN-I?

Much have I fared, much have I found,
Much have I got from the gods:
What spake Othin himself in the ears of his son,
Ere in the bale-fire he burned? — Bellows, 1923

The unanswerable question: what did Odin whisper in Baldr's ear before the pyre? Only one person in the hall knows — and he is the one asking. This is the trap the entire contest was building toward.

Ey manni þat veit,
hvat þú í árdaga
sagðir í eyra syni;
feigum munni
mælta ek mína forna stafi
ok of ragnarök.
Nú ek við Óðin
deildak mína orðspeki;
þú ert æ vísastr vera.

Say it A-Y MAHN-nee that VA-YT,
kvat thoo E-E AWRD-WRDAG-A
SAGTH-IR E-E A-YR-A SYN-I;
FA-YG-UM MUNN-I
MA-Y-ELT-A ek ME-EN-A forn STAF-I
ok ov RAGN-AR-URK.
noo ek VITH OHTH-IN
DA-YLD-AK ME-EN-A ORTHSP-EK-I;
thoo ERT A-Y-E VE-ES-ASTR VER-A.

No man can tell what in olden time
Thou spak'st in the ears of thy son;
With fated mouth the fall of the gods
And mine olden tales have I told;
With Othin in knowledge now have I striven,
And ever the wiser thou art. — Bellows, 1923

Vafþrúðnir recognizes Odin. No man knows what was whispered at Baldr's funeral; with fated mouth the giant has told his ancient tales and the doom of gods; he has striven with Odin in wisdom and lost. The wager of heads is lost. The guest was the Terrible One all along. Knowledge has a price, and the giant pays it for knowing too late who sat on his bench.