The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún

APPENDIX B

THE PROPHECY OF THE SIBYL

I include this poem by my father in rhyming couplets as a companion to the altogether distinct Upphaf to the Lay of the Völsungs, since it also was inspired by the Eddaic poem Völuspá (see the commentary on the Lay, pp.183–84).

It is found in a single very fine decorated manuscript; of earlier work there is now no trace. There is no evidence of any kind for its date, but on general grounds I would be inclined to ascribe it to the 1930s.

The Prophecy of the Sibyl

From the East shall come the Giant of old

and shield of stone before him hold;

the Serpent that the world doth bind

in towering wrath shall him unwind

and move the Outer Sea profound,

till all is loosed that once was bound.

Unloosed at last shall then set forth

the ship of shadow from the North;

the host of Hel shall cross the sea

and Loki shall from chain be free,

and with the wolf shall monsters all

upon the world then ravening fall.

Then Surtur from the South shall fare

and tree-devouring fire shall bear

that bright as sun on swords shall shine

in battle of the hosts divine;

the hills of stone shall bend their head;

all men the paths of death shall tread.

Then darkened shall the sunlight be,

and Earth shall founder under sea,

and from the cloven heavens all

the gleaming stars shall flee and fall;

the steam shall rise in roaring spires

and heaven’s roof be licked with fires.

*

A house there is that sees no sun,

dark-builded on the beaches dun

where cold waves wash the Deadly Shore,

and northward looks its shadowy door;

the louver poisoned rain lets fall,

of woven serpents in the wall.

Laden in heavy streams there wade

men perjured, men who have betrayed

the trust of friend; and there the coward

and wolvish murderer is devoured:

the dragon who yet Yggdrasil

gnaws at the roots there takes his fill.

Dim-flying shall that dragon haste

over the beaches dark and waste,

up from the Nether-fells shall spring

bearing those corpses under wing,

then plunge, and sea close o’er his head

for ever, o’er the doomed and dead.

*

At last once more uprising slow

the Earth from Ocean green shall grow,

and falls of water shimmering pour

from her high shoulders to the shore;

the eagle there with lonely cry

shall hunt the fish on mountains high.

The younger gods again shall meet

in Idavellir’s pastures sweet,

and tales shall tell of ancient doom,

the Serpent and the fire and gloom,

and that old king of Gods recall

his might and wisdom ere the fall.

There marvellous shall again be found

cast in the grass upon the ground

the golden chess wherewith they played

when Ásgard long ago was made,

when all their courts were filled with gold

in the first merriment of old.

A house I see that standeth there

bright-builded, than the Sun more fair:

o’er Gimlé shine its tiles of gold,

its halls no grief nor evil hold,

and there shall worthy men and true

in living days delight pursue.

Unsown shall fields of wheat grow white

when Baldur cometh after night;

the ruined halls of Ódin’s host,

the windy towers on heaven’s coast,

shall golden be rebuilt again,

all ills be healed in Baldur’s reign.