Great men and humble sons of Heimdall;

by Óðinn's will, I'll speak of recent lore,

of a friend of Þórr whom I remember.

Once a friend, told a tale,

one of troubled brow and hopeful faith;

With ring on heart, and hope in sad turmoil,

hands to the sky, he asked his mighty god.

He thus spoke, with heart racing,

before the gods in all the nine worlds,

facing the skull of Ymir.

"Thunderer! Give me a sign of your strength!"

He then spoke, with sweat on brow,

into the halls of great Bilskirnir,

And Þórr listened intently.

"Is this the faith of me, God of Thunder?"

Then he slept, on that clear night,

one of troubled brow, and hopeful faith;

With ring on heart, and hope in sad turmoil.

Asa-Þórr thought, looked in the man's pure heart.

Then Þórr leaped, on that clear night,

HE of troubled brow, but shining heart;

Racing his goats, his chariot burning,

across the skies, racing for his beloved son.

Hammer high, smashing Jötans,

who blocked his pathway, to his beloved son;

Gap-Tooth raced hard, Tooth-Gnasher raced harshly,

Mighty son of Jörð, racing for his beloved son.

Thunder claps, lightening crash,

Morning sun he beat, to his beloved son;

Swinging hammer, collecting his great might,

Lord of Lightening, gave his love to his son.

Powerful, lightening crash,

Oak tree split in half, ode to his son;

Presence left there, permeating the night,

Lord of Lightening, showing his love to his son.

Son awoke, heart full of joy,

His god's sign so pure, on a clear night!

Presence felt there, permeating his heart,

Son of Lightening, was showed his father's love.

--End