Brown are our ships.
But the Vauns admire
The haunts of the brave;
Horses of the sea.
They carry the warrior
To the winning of plunder.
The wandering home
Enriches the fixed one;
Welcome to woman
Is the crosser of ocean;
Merry are children In strange attire.
Narrow are our beds,
As graves of the nameless;
But mighty our rising.
As the storms of Thor;
He fears not man.
Who laughs at the tempest.
Who feeds with corsea
The whales of Æger
Shall deck his hall
With far-fetched booty,
And quaff at will
The wine of the South.
Anonymous (pre-13th century, possibly 4th or 5th century) Iceland
Translated by W. Herbert
Source: The poets and poetry of Europe. With introductions and biograpical notices
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Carey and Hart, 1845
From the Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks (The Saga of Hervör and Heidrek)
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