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To Gerd

12 May

Hail to fair Gerd, bright-armed jotun-maid,
daughter of Gymir! You dwelt, content,
in your father’s fine hall, knowing not
that your beauty had stricken great Frey
to the soul, and that all your world would change.
For your favor they offered you apples
of gold, fresh from the basket of Idunn:
you said no. For your favor they offered
you riches untold: you said no. No gift
nor bribe would win your hand, and yet you came
to the green and prosperous lands of the Vans,
a passage not without trouble and tears.
Gentle Gerd, gracious lady of Alfheim,
who knows of what must be, I honor you.

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Posted by on May 12, 2013 in Gerd, Heathen Prayers

 

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