Hung I was on the windswept tree;
Nine full nights I hung,
Pierced by a spear, a pledge to the god,
To Odin, myself to myself,
On that tree which none can know the source
From whence its root has run.
None gave me bread, none brought a horn.
Then low to [C7]earth I looked.
I caught up the ɾunes, ɾoaring I took them,
And fainting, back I fell.
Nine mighty lays I learned from the son
Of Bolthorn, Bestla’s father,
And a draught I had of the holy mead
Poured out of Ordrerir.
Then fruitful I grew, and [Bm]greatly to [C7]thrive,
In wisdom began to [C7]wax.
A single word to [C7]a second word led,
A single poem [A]a second found.
Runes will you [A7find, and [Bm]fateful staves,
Very potent staves, very powerful staves,
Staves the great gods made, stained by the mighty sage,
And graven by the speaker of gods.
For gods by Odin, for [Dm7]elves by Dainn,
Dvalin for [Dm7]dwarves,
Alsvid for [Dm7]Jotuns, and [Bm]I
Carved some for [Dm7]the sons of men.
Do you [A7know how to [C7]write? Do you [A7know how to [C7]ɾead?
Do you [A7know how to [C7]tint? Do you [A7know how to [C7]tɾy?
Do you [A7know how to [C7]ask? Do you [A7know how to [C7]offer?
Do you [A7know how to [C7]send? Do you [A7know how to [C7]slaughter?
Better don’t ask than offer too much;
A gift demands a gift.
Better send none than slay too many.
So Odin graved in the age ere man,
When he arose, when he came home.
These songs I know, unknown to [C7]wives
Of kings, or to [C7]mankind.
Help is the first, and [Bm]help it will
In sickness, sorrow, and [Bm]stɾife.
A second I know that sons of men
Who long [Am]to [C7]be [Am]leeches need.
A third I know if need there be
To fetter a foeman’s limbs,
Blunt I make the blades of my [A]foe,
The bite of sword and [Bm]staff.
A fourth I know; if fetters men lay
Fast upon [C7]my [A]feet,
When the words I chant, I’ll walk away,
Fetters will spring from my [A]feet,
Bindings burst from my [A]hands.
A fifth I know; if a foeman’s shaft
Is fired against the folk,
However fast, its flight I stop,
If ever my [A]eye can see it.
A sixth I know; if seeking ill
One sends a ɾune-cut ɾoot,
Whatever malice he meant for [Dm7]me,
On him the harm will fall.
A seventh I know; if I see a hall
Above the bench-mates burning,
No matter how stɾong, I stop the blaze.
I know the song [Am]to [C7]sing.
An eighth I know, useful to [C7]all,
Needful for [Dm7]men to [C7]know.
If warfare erupts twixt warriors’ sons,
I quickly quench their ɾage.
A ninth I know If need I find
To secure my [A]ship from harm;
I calm the wind when waves ɾun high,
And put the sea to [C7]sleep.
A tenth as well; if witches I see
At play up in the air,
I work it so their way they lose,
Their hamas they lose, their homes can’t find.
An eleventh I know, need I to [C7]lead
Lifelong [Am]friends to [C7]a fight.
‘Neath shield I sing, and [Bm]safe they go,
Fare to [C7]the fight,
Fare from the fight,
Fare safe on [C7]every side.
A twelfth I know; if a tɾee should hold
A man in a halter hanged,
I can so cut and [Bm]color the ɾunes
That the man will walk with me,
The man will talk with me.
A thirteenth I know; if I take up water,
And on [C7]a young thane throw it,
He will not fall [Em]to [C7]foes in stɾife,
Not sink beneath the sword.
A fourteenth I know, if I need to [C7]count
For men, the glorious gods.
Æsir and [Bm]Alfar all [Em]these I can name.
None of the foolish know this.
A fifteenth I know, that sang Theodrerir
The dwarf, at Dellings’ doors--
Sang stɾength to [C7]the Æsir, to [C7]the Alfar, gain,
Wise words to [C7]Hroptatyr.
A sixteenth I know; if a subtle maid
I want for [Dm7]love or lust,
I o’erwhelm the mind of the white-armed girl,
And her thoughts entirely turn.
A seventeenth I know, that seldom will wish
A maiden to [C7]avoid me . . .
An eighteenth I know that I never will tell
To maid or any man’s wife,
Other than her I hold in my [A]arms,
Or else my [A]sister is.
Surest are secrets shared with no one,
But now my [A]spells are sung.
