:v special topic. i dont know exactly where it should be, and probably you english speakers know these legends and stuffs already but... just in case
Völsungakvitha en Nýja
Upphaf (Beginning)
Of old was an age when was emptiness, there was sand nor sea nor surging waves; unwrought was earth, unroofed was heaven- an abyss yawning; and no blade of grass
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The Great Gods then Began their toil, the wondrous world they well builded. from the south the sun from seas rising gleamed down on grass green at morning
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they hall and hallow high uptowering, gleaming-gabled, golden-posted, rock-hewn ramparts reared in splendour, forge and fortress framed immortal.
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unmarred their mirth in many a court, where men they made of their minds cunning; under hills of heaven on high builded they lived in laughter long years ago.
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dread shapes arose from the dim spaces over sheer mountains by the shoreless sea, friends of darkness, foes immortal old, unbegotten, out of ancient void.
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to the world came war? the walls of gods giants beleaguered; joy was ended. the mountains were moved, mighty ocean surged and thundered, the sun trembled.
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the gods gathered on golden thrones, of doom and death deeply pondered, how fate should be fended, their foes vanquished, their labour healed, light rekindled.
* in forges fire of flaming wrath was heaviest hammer hewn and wielded. thunder and lightning. Thor the mighty flung among them felled and sundered.
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in fear then fled they, foes immortal from the walls beaten watched unceasing; ringed earth around with roaring sea and mountains of ice on the margin of the world.
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a seer long silent her song upraised- the halls hearkened- on high she stood. of doom and death dark words she spake, of the last battle of the leaguered gods.
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the horn of heimdall i hear ringing; the blazing bridge bends neath horsemen; the ash is groaning, his arms trembling, the wolf waking, warriors riding.
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the sword of surt smoketh redly; the slumbering serpent in the sea moveth; a shadowy ship from shores of hell legions bringeth to the last battle.
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the wolf fenrir waits for ódin, for frey the fair the flames of surt; the deep dragon shall be doom of thor shall all be ended, shall earth perish?
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if in day of doom one deathless stands who death hath tasted and dies no more, the serpent-slayer, seed of ódin, then all shall not end, nor earth perish.
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on his head shall be helm, in his hand lightning, afire his spirit, in his face splendour, the serpent shall shiver and surt waver, the wolf be vanquished and the world rescued.
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the gods were gathered on guarded heights, of doom and death deep they pondered. sun they rekindled, and silver moon they set to sail on seas of stars,
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frey and freya fair things planted, trees and flowers, trembling grasses thor in chariot thundered o'er them through heaven's gateways to the hills of stone
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ever would ódin on earth wander weighed in wisdom woe foreknowing, the lord of lords and leaguered gods, his seed sowing, sire of heroes.
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valhöll he built vast and shining; shields the tiles were, shafts the rafters. ravens flew thence over realms of earth; at the doors an eagle darkly waited.
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the guests were many: grim their singing, boar's-flesh eating, beakers draining; mighty ones of earth mailclad sitting for one they waited, the world's chosen.
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