Back to Issue Fifty-Two

Raven-tongue

BY THORBJORN HORNKLOFI (TRANS. BY EMILY OSBORNE)

Listen, ring-holders. Hear of Harald
the gold-loaded lord and feats of spear-spikes.
I will tell you: I heard the words of a white,
light-locked lass as she spoke with a raven.

The Valkyrie surely was shrewd: men were not tame
to that battle-speeding dame. She’d learned bird-speech.
The white-throated girl, graceful-eyed, greeted
the giant’s skull-plucker, the raven perched on the scarp’s rim.

What are you doing, ravens? At the day’s soul-dawning
you’ve flown in with bloody beaks. Where from?
Flesh cleaves to your claws. Corpse-stench flows from your mouths.
I’ve guessed it: last night you nested where carrion rested.

The eagle’s oath-brother fluffed its dusky feathers
and rubbed clean its beak, pondering its response:
We have flown with the young king, Harald
son of Halfdan, since we hatched from our eggs.

I thought you’d know the Lord of Norwegians,
the king who lives at Kvinnar. He commands
deep-keeled ships, crimson shield-rims and
gory shields, tarred oars and snow-drifted tents.

If the noble-souled lord could name his will alone, he’d
drink the Yuletide in at sea and stage Freyr’s sport.
As a child he tired of tending cauldron-fires, of sitting
indoors, of women’s warm chambers and down-filled mittens.

Have you heard how in Hafrsfjord, the king
of great kin fought against Kjotvi the Wealthy?
Courage-eager ships came from the east,
their figureheads with graven beaks and gaping jaws.

Those ships were loaded with warriors and
white shields, western spears and Frankish swords.
Berserkers roared: those wolf-skins bellowed
and brandished iron blades. Battle was upon them.

Clangor-poem

BY THORBJORN HORNKLOFI (TRANS. BY EMILY OSBORNE)

The time was right: the young,
hard-ruling king, ransacker
of the pale wave-horse, bid his
ships’ prows pushed out to sea.

A storm thrust the plank-steed
from the north. The sword-lord
stayed on deck, sailing into
war against two sovereigns.

At battle’s start, the ever-cunning kings
called on each other without words,
hailing with clangor-shots.
The red shield’s voice was on show.

On the fo’c’s’le, men fell.
Life fled before the king.
Savage swords boomed on shields.
The blade-smearer triumphed.

Haraldr, you are known as open-handed.
Under the old, overhanging
sun’s throne, no other king-clanned
man nobler than you will come.

Emily Osborne’s poetry, fiction, and translations have been published in The Paris Review, The Fiddlehead, The Malahat Review, and elsewhere. Her books include a forthcoming anthology of translations, THE SKALDS (W. W. Norton / Liveright, 2027) and a debut volume of poetry, Safety Razor (Gordon Hill Press, 2023). Emily has a PhD in Old Norse Literature from the University of Cambridge. She lives on Bowen Island, British Columbia.

Next (Ocean Vuong) >

< Previous (Albert Sierra—trans. by Matthew Tree)