Old English Rune Poem

Wealth provides comfort,
but you must share it who hope to cast lots
for judgment before the gods

The wild ox has great high horns
with which it gores; a fierce fighter
who boldly stamps the moors.

Thorn is a wickedly sharp and causes pain
to those who grasp it, hurt
to you who rest among them.

The mouth is the source of the word,
bringing wisdom and counsel to the wise,
hope inspiration, and a blessing to all.

Riding is easy for heroes
inside a hall; it's much harder astride a strong horse
pounding the great mile paths.

The torch we know by its flame,
which brings illumination and light
wherever noble souls congregate.

A gift returns to adorn the giver
with greatness and honor; it helps
and heartens those who have nothing.

Joy comes to you who know no sorrow,
blessed with gain and plenty,
content in a strong community.

Hail, whitest of grains, whirls down from heaven,
is tossed by the wind, and turns to water.

Need constricts the heart but can bring
help and healing, if heeded in time.

Ice is cold and slippery;
jewel-like and glistening,
fair to behold, the frozen field.

Harvest time brings joy
when the (goddess) Earth
gifts us her bright fruits.

Yew has rough bark without
but holds the flame within;
deeply rooted, it graces the land.

Gaming means play and laughter
among the high-spirited who sit
merrily together in the mead hall.

Elk sedge grows in the fen,
waxing in the water, grimly wounding;
it burns the blood of those
who would lay hands upon it.

The sun guides seafarers
who ferry across the fishes' bath
until the seahorse brings them to land.

Tiw is a sign that spells
confidence to the noble; unfailing,
it holds true through the night clouds.

The birch though fruitless
sends out countless shoots;
leafy branches, high crowned,
reach to the sky.

The horse brings joy;
proud on its hooves,
by heroes praised, it is
a solace to the restless.

We are each other's mirth
yet must one day take leave,
for (the gods) will allot
our frail bodies to the Earth.

Water to land folk seems never-ending
when they set sail on a heaving ship;
the huge waves overwhelm them
and the seahorse won't heed the bridle.

Ing, first seen by the east Danes,
later rose his wagon away
eastward over the waves;
thus was the great (god) named.

Day is the god's messenger;
the light of the gods grants ecstasy,
good hope, and a boon to all.

Home is loved by all
who prosper there in peace
and enjoy a frequent harvest.