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All the gateways ere one goes out
Should one scan:
For 't is uncertain where sit the unfriendly
On the bench before thee.
Erst was the age when nothing was:
Nor sand nor sea, nor chilling stream-waves;
Earth was not found, nor Ether-Heaven,--
A Yawning Gap, but grass was none
Surtr fares from the south with switch-eating flame,--
On his sword shimmers the sun of the War-Gods;
The rock-crags crash; the fiends are reeling;
Heroes tread Hel-way; Heaven is cloven
All the witches spring from Witolf,
All the warlocks are of Willharm,
And the spell-singers spring from Swarthead;
All the ogres of Ymir come
Out of the Ice-waves issued venom-drops,
Waxing until a giant was;
Thence are our kindred come all together,--
So it is they are savage forever
Untold ages ere earth was shapen,
Then was Bergelmir born;
That first I recall, how the famous wise giant
On the deck of the ship was laid down.
The sun knew not where she had housing;
The moon knew not what Might he had;
The stars knew not where stood their places.
Thus was it ere the earth was fashioned.
Of Ymir's flesh the earth was fashioned,
And of his sweat the sea;
Crags of his bones, trees of his hair,
And of his skull the sky.
Then of his brows the blithe gods made
Midgard for sons of men;
And of his brain the bitter-mooded
Clouds were all created.