The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun

a maiden fair;

only dreams vexed me,

dreams of evil.

160

Fell sorrows five

hath fate sent me:

they slew Sigurd,

my sorrow greatest.

In evil loathing

to Atli me gave:

too long lasting

my life’s disease.

161

The heart of Hogni

they hewed living:

my heart it hardened,

my hardest woe.

Gunnar heard I

in the grave crying:

my grief most grim

was that ghastly voice.

162

My sons I slew

seared with madness:

keen it bites me

most clinging woe.

There sits beside me

son nor daughter;

the world is empty,

the waves are cold.

163

They slew Sigurd:

my sorrow deepest,

my life’s loathing,

my life’s disease.

Sigurd, Sigurd,

on swift Grani

lay saddle and bridle

and seek for me!

164

Rememberest thou

what on marriage-bed

in love we pledged,

as we laid us down? –

the light I would leave

to look for thee,

from hell thou wouldst ride

and haste to me!’

165

In the waves she cast her,

the waves took her;

in the wan water

her woe was drowned.

While the world lasteth

woe of Gudrun

till the end of days

all shall hearken.

*

166

Thus glory endeth,

and gold fadeth,

on noise and clamours

the night falleth.

Lift up your hearts,

lords and maidens

for the song of sorrow

that was sung of old.

COMMENTARY

on

GU?RUNARKVI?A EN NYJA

COMMENTARY

on

GU?RUNARKVI?A EN NYJA

In this commentary Gu?runarkvi?a en Nyja is referred to as ‘the Lay of Gudrun’, or where no confusion is possible as ‘the Lay’, and Volsungakvi?a en Nyja as ‘the Lay of the Volsungs’. As there are no sections in this poem, references are made simply by the numbers of the stanzas.

The subordinate title Drap Niflunga means ‘The Slaying of the Niflungs’: on this name see the Lay of the Volsungs, VII.8 and note.

The relation of the Lay of Gudrun to its ancient sources is not essentially different from that of the Lay of the Volsungs, but in this case the sources are very largely extant in the poems of the Edda, and the Volsunga Saga is of far less importance. In its content the Lay of Gudrun is essentially a complex interweaving of the Eddaic poems Atlakvi?a and Atlamal, together with some wholly independent developments.

My father devoted much time and thought to Atlakvi?a, and prepared a very detailed commentary (the basis for lectures and seminars) on this extraordinarily difficult text. It is a poem that he much admired. Despite its condition, ‘we are in the presence (he wrote) of great poetry that can still move us as poetry. Its style is universally and rightly praised: rapid, terse, vigorous – while maintaining, within its narrow limits, characterization. The poet who wrote it knew how to produce the grim and deadly atmosphere his theme