literature

The Making of Midgard

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Literature Text

The Making of Miðgarðr



To the South was the burning land of Utgarðr,

Where no travellers could go, for all is aflame.

Sparks flew to the North, though not much farther,

For the cold nulled their might, luke-warm the air became.



To the North was Niflheimr, that misty place,

With rivers that ran venomously, and formed Rime in their path.

As it flowed further South, it melted at an alarming pace,

And, meeting the warmth, life was the glorious aftermath.



Ginnungagap, location of Mimisbrunnr, was mild and warm,

The poisonous Rime sprayed forth, and froze on the earth quite solidly.

Life emerged with fiery force, a Jötunn man took form,

His name was Ymir, and he did not live life stolidly.



From under the arms of the great Hrimþurs, sweat beget two,

Man and woman, one named Bestla, the other Mimir.

A curious happening also took place, for his feet beget too,

the foot-child had three heads, and the name of Þrúðgelmir.




With the dripping of Rime, Auðhumla came alive in due time,

She was the sacred Aurochs, and nourishing milk she gave to Ymir.

His thirst for her life equaled her desire for salty Rime,

As she licked ravenously, she caused the mighty Búri to appear.



A strong, lovely man, Búri drank deeply from Auðhumla, bringing forth a son,

Named Burr, the son took Bestla for his bride, and sired three mighty Goðin.

These three are the creators of Heaven and Earth, and servant to none,

One was named Vili-Lóðurr, another Vé-Hœnir, and the eldest Óðinn.



In the hunger he had, Ymir killed Auðhumla, for which he was killed,

His copious blood drowning all of the Hrimþursar but one, named Bergelmir.

Out of his body, the Goðar made the world, all of him was used to build,

In-depth will this rhyme go, of the utilization of Ymir.



Lakes and the Sea were his blood, and his flesh the earth,

Mountain Cliffs from his bones, and his teeth made stones and gravel.

His hair became Trees and Plants, which is a strange rebirth,

His limbs became soil in the Grotti Mill, like injustice under a gavel.



Inland on the fertile world, Óðinn and his brothers built a fortress wall,

To keep the Jötnar out, and their hatred for goodness and order.

Ymir's eyebrows made this defense, the bulwark that stands quite tall,

The craft of Fathers divine, and home of Man, the Goðar named it Miðgarðr.
This next poem is about the creation myth itself, and truly shows, in my opinion, the genius and wisdom of the Norsemen. It is surprisingly realistic, apart from the mythic elements of course. ^-^ As always, I do not own these stories, they are inspired by the Norse myths, as recorded in the Asatru Edda.
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Seaxwulf's avatar
:star::star::star::star::star-half: Overall
:star::star::star::star::star: Vision
:star::star::star::star::star-empty: Originality
:star::star::star::star::star: Technique
:star::star::star::star::star: Impact

Being, and forgive the nippy humour, who reads such texts religiously, I am always interested to see new offerings to old Gods. But I won't keep you until the Sun rends our heart to stones with reading, so, let me commence.

Your revision to the text is good, it is solid, it conveys the message aptly and succinctly. It strikes me as clear that your intent was to represent the original form of the Creation Story of our Heathen Forefathers. Which you have done, with the necessary proviso of using updated linguistics and grammar conventions, of course.

You have successfully transmitted the feeling of dubious awe which pervades the Nordic dualistic theme of creation, with it tensions and necessary resolutions - making one think toward its manifestation in the Hegelian Dialectic. In fact, you have well captured the sense of being "punched" in the affective domain much in the way the archaic English translations of the original Norse survivals do for me.

I see you have amalgamated the two extant Trinities in creating your representation. This is good, it betrays the thinking mind to a curious public.

That last bit being said, I would offer only one suggestion, and that is, rather than relying on the diehard habit of strenuously reconstructing the hauntingly beautiful original names of Gods, Goddesses, Realms, et al, I would think that modernising the nomenclature of the Pantheon would be apt. Much is lost in translation when anachronisms are held to, in that the ancient Nordics expressed boundless hoards of symbolism in their nomenclature, which your modern Anglo-Saxon is not apt to understand. Although, because I do so enjoy it, I would suggest a footnote system. So one, in true Odinic style, might take the best worlds from your laboured work.