Um ljod bed eg alle
helga lydar,
store og småe
søner åt Heimdall.
Det vil du, Valfader,
at vel eg fortel
frå fyrndeheim
det som fyrst eg minnest.
Jotnar eg minnest
i upphav borne,
dei som fordom
meg fostra hadde.
Nie heimar,
nie innvere,
heilagt stortre,
fyrr det spratt or mold.
Årle i old
var det Yme bygde;
Korkje sand eller sjø
eller svale bylgjur;
jord var ikkje,
upphimmel ikkje;
Gap var Ginnunga,
men gras var ikkje,
Fyrr Burs søner baud
bøar seg lyfte,
dei som Midgard
mætan skapte.
Sol skein sunnan
på steinar i sal,
då grodde grunnen
med grønan lauk.
Sol kom sunnan,
syster åt månen,
slo høgre handi
um himmelhestar.
Sol ikkje visste
kvar salar ho åtte,
Måne ei visste
kvar makt han åtte,
stjernur ei visste,
kvar stader dei åtte
[English translation:]
Hearing I ask from the holy races,
From Heimdall's sons, both high and low;
Thou wilt, Valfather, that well I relate
Old tales I remember of men long ago.
I remember yet the giants of yore,
Who gave me bread in the days gone by;
Nine worlds I knew, the nine in the tree
With mighty roots beneath the mold.
Of old was the age when Ymir lived;
Sea nor cool waves nor sand there were;
Earth had not been, nor heaven above,
But a yawning gap, and grass nowhere.
Then Bur's sons lifted the level land,
Mithgarth the mighty there they made;
The sun from the south warmed the stones of earth,
And green was the ground with growing leeks.
The sun, the sister of the moon, from the south
Her right hand cast over heaven's rim;
No knowledge she had where her home should be,
The moon knew not what might was his,
The stars knew not where their stations were.