Читать книгу Adventure Tales 6 - H. Bedford-Jones - Страница 5

LINES WRITTEN BY, OR TO, OR FOR, OR MAYBE AGAINST, THAT IGNOBLE OLD VIKING, HARALD HARDASS, KING OF THE CONEY & ORKNEY ISLANDS, by Avram Davidson

Woe is me, and wella-

day, that I set dreaming.

See, the steaming turn-spit

roast the ruptured roebuck.

Mingle men with mead-horns,

horns that hoist the highest,

held in horny hand-grips.

Often, o’er the Walrus-way,

went the wicked Worm-ships.

Scoffing, skim’d past Scilly-land,

smote the smarmy strand-folk.

Leering, lop’t their limbs loose.

Debauched their daughters, drooling.

Weary, over white-weave waves,

calmly came to Norse-land.

For the captives, cards we cut.

Glittering gold did glut us,

Limber lads neath larch-leaves.

Pass by me now the potent pot,

Venison roasts vainly.

With rue and grue must guzzle gruel:

Harold has the heart-burn.

—Translated from the original Old High Middle Autochthonous