Þat kann ek it átta, / er ǫllum er / nytsamligt at nema:
hvar’s hatr vex / með hildings sonum / þat má ek bǿta brátt.
⊛
That I know the eighth, / which is for all / good to grasp:
wherever hatred grows / among heroes’ sons / I may briskly better it.
– – – – – –
Firstly follow frith,
Fairest daledom queens.
Fare, your sisters with;
Find the truth unseen.
Free the forest old,
Fanged in fog and mist.
Follow northwinds cold;
Forge though seas resist.
Frozen, she awaits;
Freedom has a fee.
Fall into your fates;
Fear – but you won’t flee.
Fly into her fount;
Face the forlorn past.
For old wrongs account;
Find you frith at last.
Queendom of the Crocus 