Mimer’s sons play; To battle the gods are called By the ancient Gjallar-horn. Loud blows Heimdal, His sound is in the air; Odin talks With the head of Mimer. Quivers then Ygdrasil, The strong-rooted ash; Rustles the old tree When the giant gives way. All things tremble In the realms of Hel, Till Surt’s son Swallows up Odin. How fare the gods? How fare the elves? Jotunheim shrieks. The gods hold Thing; The dwarfs shudder Before their cleft caverns, Where behind rocky walls they dwell. Know ye now more or not? Loud barks Garm[84] At Gnipa-cave; The fetters are severed, The wolf is set free,— Vala knows the future. More does she see Of the victorious gods’ Terrible fall. From the east drives Hrym, Bears his child before him; Jormungander welters In giant fierceness; The waves thunder; The eagle screams, Rends the corpses with pale beak, And Naglfar is launched. A ship from the east nears, The hosts of Muspel Come o’er the main, But Loke is pilot. All grim and gaunt monsters Conjoin with the wolf, And before them all goes The brother of Byleist.[85] From the south wends Surt With seething fire; The sun of the war-god Shines in his sword; Mountains together dash, And frighten the giant-maids; Heroes tread the paths to Hel, And heaven in twain is rent. Over Hlin[86] then shall come Another woe, When Odin goes forth The wolf to combat, And he[87] who Bele slew ’Gainst Surt rides; Then will Frigg’s Beloved husband[88] fall.