Epic poetry, German -- Translations into English; Nibelungen -- Poetry
Forth came the fair Queen Kriemhild with a goodly company.
With falsely-feignèd kindness those Niblungs greeted she.
Then Giselher her brother did she kiss, and she clasped his hand:
When Hagen of Troneg saw it, he tightened his helmet-band.
"Good sooth, after such a welcome," Hagen cried, "there is need
That the battle-eager warriors should take to themselves good heed!
The greeting of prince and of liegeman is here no whit the same.
I wot, on an evil journey to this high-tide we came!"
She answered, "To him be welcome who joyeth to see thy face!
For thy friendship's sake is accorded here no greeting's grace.
This tell to me, what dost thou bring me from Worms beyond the Rhine,
That unto me so welcome should be this presence of thine?"
"What new thing shall this be, quotha!" spake Hagen scornfully,
"That these good knights Burgundian should be bringers of gifts unto
thee?
Had I known that thou wert so grasping--I am rich enow, I wot,--
A gift unto thee of my bounty to the Hunland had I brought."
"Thy gifts!--thou answer the question I ask of thee this day:
The Hoard, the Niblung Treasure--where have ye thrust it away?
That at least was mine own possession, well dost thou understand!
That should ye have brought to its owner unto King Etzel's land."
"Of a truth, my lady Kriemhild, full many a day hath passed
Since the gold of the Niblung Treasure of me was beholden last.
Under the Rhine-river waters by command of my lords was it drowned:
There must it stay of a surety till the Trumpet of Doom shall sound."
And the Queen made bitter answer: "I trowed that so it would be!
Of his spoil has the thief brought hither little enow unto me,
Though the gold was mine own possession, erewhile of me controlled!
For the gold and its lord have I suffered anguish manifold."
"The Fiend a gift do I bring thee!" cried Hagen in savage scorn.
"'Tis enough for me that I carry the shield on mine arm that is
borne,
And the harness about my body, and mine helm bright-glittering,
And the sword at my side--they suffice me: nothing to thee do I
bring."
{P. 238}
(C) "Nay, never think thou," she answered, "that it is for the gold I
care.
I need not to stint my bounty, enough have I and to spare.
But the murderer, twice a robber, who hath stol'n from my life its
light,
The spoiler of helpless women, him would I fain requite!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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