I know that I hung

In the windcold tree

Nine whole nights

With hurt point

To Oden given

Self given to myself

In that tree

Which nobody knows

From which roots it ran



not given bread

They brought no horns

Saw down from the tree

Took up runes

Took them with screams

And down from the tree I fell



Nine magic songs I got

From the famous son of

Boltorn, Bestlas father

And a drink I got

Of precious mead

Poured by Odrere



Then I became vigorous

And got wise

Grew and felt well

Of word sought word

Me word again

Of work sought work

Me work again