Völuspá by Benjamin Thorpe

She knows that Heimdall's horn 
is hidden under 
the heaven-bright holy tree. 
A river she sees flow, 
with foamy fall, 
from Valfather's pledge. 
Understand ye yet, 
or what?
East sat the crone, 
in Iârnvidir, 
and there reared up 
Fenrir's progeny: 
of all shall be one 
especially the moon's devourer, 
in a troll's semblance.
He is sated with the last breath 
of dying men; 
the god's seat he with 
red gore defiles: 
swart is the sunshine 
then for summers after; 
all weather turns to storm. 
Understand ye yet, or what?
There on a height sat, 
striking a harp, 
the giantess's watch, 
the joyous Egdir; 
by him crowed, 
in the bird-wood, 
the bright red cock, 
which Fialar hight.
Crowed o'er 
the Æsir Gullinkambi, 
which wakens heroes 
with the sire of hosts; 
but another crows 
beneath the earth, 
a soot-red cock, 
in the halls of Hel.
I saw of Baldr, 
the blood-stained god, 
Odin's son, 
the hidden fate. 
There stood grown up, 
high on the plain, 
slender and passing fair, 
the mistletoe.
From that shrub was made, 
as to me it seemed, 
a deadly, 
noxious dart. 
Hödr shot it forth; 
but Frigg bewailed, 
in Fensalir, 
Valhall's calamity. 
Understand ye yet, or what?
Bound she saw lying, 
under Hveralund, 
a monstrous form, 
to Loki like. 
There sits Sigyn, 
for her consort's sake, 
not right glad. 
Understand ye yet, 
or what?
Then the Vala knew 
the fatal bonds were twisting, 
most rigid, 
bonds from entrails made.
From the east 
a river falls, 
through venom dales, 
with mire and clods, 
Slîd is its name.