Skírnir - 01.04.2004, Side 254

248
ROBERT COOK
SKIRNIR
Northward you see the Summit Mountains, very
sober and formal in their blue-black frocks
but girt with green where steep and valley marry
and helmed with snow above their sable rocks.
They stare at tarns whose streams will soon be plying
their way through meadows filled with lazy flocks.
and sprinkled thick with little farmsteads lying
deep in the shadow of the sheltering heath.
Far to the north, its snowy peak defying
the heavens, Hekla stands on guard: beneath
its bulwarks, bound in dungeons deep as night,
Terror and Death are gnashing greedy teeth,
while high above them palisades of bright
obsidian glitter, glassy as a mirror.
From there you look on scenes of pure delight:
Wood River glides through leafy glens, then, nearer,
murmuring more softly, makes its leisured way
through farmlands ripe with radiant harvest - dearer
than gold - and grassy meads where cattle stray.
High on the hillside fragile blossoms gleam;
golden-clawed eagles glide above their prey
(for fish are flashing there in every stream)
and whirring throngs of thrushes flit and trill
through birch and beech groves lovely as a dream.
But on the other side stand the Tinda-
fjöll on firm feet, clad in a blue-black
cloak and girt with a green belt where
the valleys meet;
with a bright helmet, like white snow,
they [the Tindafjöll] look out over the
blue waters on the heath which
descend to fair Rangárvöll,
where small farmsteads are at ease,
spread over blossoming fields and
green plains. In the north rise the high
peaks of Hekla.
Ice is on the pinnacle, fire rages under-
neath, in the menacing depth, wrapped
in a harsh fetter, Terror and Death
dwell for long periods.
And mirror-polished, the obsidian
domes gleam in the high air over the
black earth. From there can be seen
the blessed country blossoms;
for the Markarfljót resounds on the
gravelly banks in the fair forest valley;
a fully grown field covers the broad
banks; the fairest of outstanding mead-
ows
spread out from there high into the
hollows on the slope in a glittering
veil, grown over with small blossoms.
Yellow-clawed eagles scream over
their prey
for fish come to the surface in all the
rivers there. A swarm of birch thrush-
es gleams in the foliage, and forests
resound, adorned with rowan trees.
Þessi orðrétta lausamálsþýðing má segja að sé nær myndmálinu ekki síð-
ur en liprum stíl frumgerðarinnar.
Þýðingin á „Borðsálmi" - þó að það sé mjög ólíkt ljóð - er gott dasmi
um þá tilhneigingu Ringlers að upphefja eða „krydda“ tiltölulega einfalt
mál Jónasar. Hér koma fyrstu fjögur erindin: