Crimsoning the Eagle's Claw

Rognvaldr Kali Kolsson, Ian Crockatt

• Publisher: Arc Publications
• Year: 2014
• Print ISBN:
  9781908376602
• eBook ISBN:
  9781908376626
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Poetry
• Index: Literature

A genuinely unique European treasure, this volume bristles with all 33 of Rognvaldr's verses from the Orkneyinga Saga. While full of highly stylised, often grotesque images, the poems convey the skill, vigour and daring of the original.

Rich narratives and old Norse mythology blend with familiar place-names and landscapes to create a peculiarly alluring, sometime comic, world that never quite settles around the reader, as if time travel is possible from a favourite armchair.

The Lady Ermingerd of Narbonne

The Lady Ermingerd of Narbonne serves him drink from a golden bowl. He takes her on his knee

Vísts, at frá berr flestu

Fróða meldrs at góðu

vel skúfaðra vífa

vǫxtr þinn, konan svinna.

Skorð lætr hár á herðar

haukvallar sér falla

– átgjǫrnum rauðk erni

ilka – gult sem silki.

Who else hoards such yellow

hair, bright lady – fair as

your milk-mild shoulders,

where milled barley-gold falls?

Chuck the cowled hawk, harry

him with sweets. Crimsoner

of eagles’ claws, I covet

cool downpours of silk; yours.

The Lady and the Castle

Vín bar hvít in hreina

hlað-Nipt alindriptar;

sýndisk fegrð, es fundumsk,

ferðum Ermingerðar.

Nú tegask ǫld með eldi

eljunfrœkn at sœkja

– ríða snǫrp ór slíðrum

sverð – kastala ferðir.

Chaste Ermingerd hastens

to serve – the snow-curve of

her broidered brow silvered –

poured-wine beauty shining.

So swung swords gleamed – tempered

in fire’s sheath, warm-flame wreathed –

when war-hardened heroes

assaulted that castle.

Still in thrall to Ermingerd, they leave Narbonne. Rǫgnvaldr composes a verse to her, and the skalds Ármóðr and Oddi inn litli Glúmsson follow suit

Orð skal Ermingerðar

ítr drengr muna lengi;

brúðr vill rǫkk, at ríðim

Ránheim til Jórðánar.

Enn, es aptr fara runnar

unnviggs of haf sunnan,

rístum, heim at hausti,

hvalfrón til Nerbónar.

I’ll recall words – Ermingerd’s –

urging heroes’ surging

foam’s-stallions to follow

the fluked horde to Jordan.

Don’t doubt it – come autumn

home-bound sea-plunderers

– tired of south-flung mares’ tails –

will track back to Narbonne.

…Then Ármóðr recited:

Ek mun Ermingerði,

nema ǫnnur skǫp verði,

margr elr sorg of svinna

síðan aldri finna.

Værak sæll, ef ek svæfa,

sýn væri þat gæfa,

brúðr hefr allfagrt enni,

eina nótt hjá henni.

Ah fate, I fear you tear

my heart from Ermingerd’s.

That rare man’s matched with her’s

must live a slave to love.

Where is beauty’s lair? There

...

Table of contents

• Contents
• Preface
• Translator’s Introduction
• Early Poems
• Incidents in the Earl’s Daily Life
• Shetland Shipwreck
• The Lady Ermingerd of Narbonne
• Seafaring and Piracy
• Jerusalem
• Sailing to Byzantium
• Illness, Loss
• In Praise of Rognvaldr
• Notes on the Translation
• Biographical Notes
• Translator’s Acknowledgements