Long lay the languid shadows of night
Over the landscape lulled into sleep;
Blue darkness holds the fields in fast slumber,
Silent the meadows, deserted the woods.

Mound-wights rise to roam among hillocks,
Moonshine bleaches the bones of the trees,
Haunting screeches – perhaps an owl hunting;
No time for the living this hour of ghosts.

But hark – what is heard, softly at first,
A sound from eastwards filling the ear ?
A murmur, a grumble, a distant rumble
Soon swelling and surging, a thundering tide –

Árvarkr´s hooves! Swift-footed hurries
The stallion of Sunna, herald of dawn,
Drawing the Splendorous One in Her chariot,
To Heimdall´s children most welcome of sights.

Fast wheels Her wain, faster run wights
Home to their barrow and hide from the blaze;
Shadows flee hastily, crouch under boulders;
Soon the sky brightens at Sunna´s fair smile.

Earth wakes to life, stirring in wonder,
Sleep-fetters loosen; flung is the froth
Of Alsviðr´s muzzle as dew on the meadows;
Eyes and doors open, flowers unfold.

Gladly now hail the hearts of all humans
The glorious Goddess in fiery guise;
Her golden rays caressing the faces
As warm as Her laughter filling the sky.

© 2005 Michaela Macha of Odin's Gift

This poem is in the Common Domain and may be freely distributed
provided it remains unchanged, including copyright notice and this License.