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Would part seas and race channels

Would steal Þorstéin’s boat

All to see you happy. Would that we could

Run away to the quiet lands beyond

Hide from husbands strong and grasping

Make inroads to newer shores,

Bend yew branches to make a marriage bower

Together.

I will tell my husband my intentions

Take my birthright,

Longboats with sails and swords,

And carry you away to a land of undying

Pleasure, for the feast of your body and your heart.

When I was done singing, my words ringing to silence, she stood from me and bit into my heart like a feral dog, saying:

Oh, curséd, broken woman

Who God Himself forgot,

You pagan creature whose hot tongue

harries me to the loss of reason,

You know not your duties

You forget your husband,

My brother, my life, my lord,

You shame me and this family.

I will go and tell of your sins that

You may take no quarter.

We are torn asunder

I fled our meeting place and went to the shrine of the old gods, fell to my knees to beg Freyja for her safety. But she had gone to tell my husband, returning with the new god’s banner and iron weapons clothed in burgundy velvet.

My husband found me in my chambers, pulled me into the light, and said:

Witness this filth

Shame to our people

Sinner to our God