and listen to this tale of yore
When Middlish men were in their crib
And all we faithful northern folk
still knew we lost the war
The gods they went into the sky,
they rode a beam of light
All-father took his smallest rib
And raised beyond the Middlish yoke
The Angels where the sun shines bright
Yes listen to this tale now well,
For oh he loved the Angels so
But when their hammers failed the Lady
One could please her with his gift
A young Kaltani we all know
And did he go down into Hel?
No, far he went beyond world’s end
His song could soothe a crying baby
And make the wind give him a lift
And on the shâla danced his hand
Six times six verses is this tale,
And I will sing you six each night
For six moons did he travel then
With nothing but a copper doit
And his shâla and voice so bright.
So tell me have you guessed the name?
Of he who won a foolish wager?
He knew the winds of Tinseten
They called him bard, his name was Stoik,
He won the love of Lady Freyja.