Ynglinga
1.
Pass on and on, and go
From less to less and vanish into light.
Fruitful be thou in the arms of the god.
Here our foe is fleeting, here the friend is fleeting,
Fleeting here is man, fleeting is the woman.
2.
Scratched in metal, and in rock,
Then blooded in ochre,
The Name of All,
Moldered to symbol...
Touch her with rough bark,
Husband of seas,
Yet stand and watch the seabirds bathing, broading out feathers...
3.
That went by; this may too.
Even the best sat mute, surrounded by nightfall, foreseeing only sorrow.
Cut off from country, the tongue's work sinks to loam--
Since no man knows the extent of his exile,
What remains are stones heaped to mark the way.
by Joe Ahearn