West over water I fared
bearing poetry's waves to the shore
of the war-god's heart;
my course was set.
I launched my oaken craft
at the breaking of ice,
loaded my cargo of praise
aboard my longboat aft.
The warrior welcomed me,
to him my praise is due.
I carry Odin's mead
to England's meadows.
The leader I laud,
sing surely his praise;
I ask to be heard,
an ode I can devise.
Snorri Sturluson (1179 - 1241) Iceland
From Egil's Saga
Translated by Bernard Scudder
Source: Hurstwig.org
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