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Hljóðs bið ek allar helgar kindir, meiri ok minni mögu Heimdallar; viltu, at ek, Valföðr! vel framtelja forn spjöll fíra, þau er fremst um man. Þá gengu regin öll á rökstóla, ginnheilug goð, ok um þat gættusk; (á gengust eiðar, orð ok sœri, mál öll meginlig er á meðal fóru.) Sól tér sortna, sígr fold í mar, hverfa af himni heiðar stjörnur; geisar eimi ok aldrnari, leikr hár hiti við himin sjalfan. Þá gengu regin öll á rökstóla, ginnheilug goð, ok um þat gættusk; (Skelfr Yggdrasils askr standandi, ymr it aldna tré, en jötunn losnar.) Geyr nú Garmr mjök fyr Gnipahelli, festr mun slitna en freki renna; fjölð veit ek fræða, fram sé ek lengra um ragnarök römm sigtíva. Bræðr munu berjask ok at bönum verðask, munu systrungar sifjum spilla; Skelfr Yggdrasils askr standandi, ymr it aldna tré, en jötunn losnar. Sér hon upp koma öðru sinni jörð ór ægi iðjagræna; falla forsar, flýgr örn yfir, sá er á fjalli fiska veiðir. Sal sér hon standa sólu fegra, gulli þakðan á Gimléi; þar skulu dyggvar dróttir byggja ok um aldrdaga ynðis njóta. 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. Then sought the gods their assembly-seats, The holy ones, and council held; (And the oaths were broken, the words and bonds, The mighty pledges between them made.) The sun turns black, earth sinks in the sea, The hot stars down from heaven are whirled; Fierce grows the steam and the life-feeding flame, Till fire leaps high about heaven itself. Then sought the gods their assembly-seats, The holy ones, and council held; (Yggdrasil shakes, and shiver on high The ancient limbs, and the giant is loose.) Now Garm howls loud before Gnipahellir, The fetters will burst, and the wolf run free Much do I know, and more can see Of the fate of the gods, the mighty in fight. Brothers shall fight and fell each other, And sisters' sons shall kinship stain; Yggdrasil shakes, and shiver on high The ancient limbs, and the giant is loose. Now do I see the earth anew Rise all green from the waves again; The cataracts fall, and the eagle flies, And fish he catches beneath the cliffs. More fair than the sun, a hall I see, Roofed with gold, on Gimle it stands; There shall the righteous rulers dwell, And happiness ever there shall they have.
