The Norwegian Rune poem was preserved in a 17th-century copy of a 13th-century manuscript was destroyed. The Norwegian Rune poem is preserved in one meter from the skaldic poetry composed of hexameter couplets, each of which contains two statements semi detached sententious font.

 

Old Norse

runnsssFé vældr frænda róge;
føðesk ulfr í skóge.

Úr er af illu jarne;
opt løypr ræinn á hjarne.

Þurs vældr kvinna kvillu;
kátr værðr fár af illu.

Óss er flæstra færða
fo,r; en skalpr er sværða.

Ræið kveða rossom væsta;
Reginn sló sværðet bæzta.

Kaun er barna bo,lvan;
bo,l gørver nán fo,lvan.

Hagall er kaldastr korna;
Kristr skóp hæimenn forna.

Nauðr gerer næppa koste;
nøktan kælr í froste.

Ís ko,llum brú bræiða;
blindan þarf at læiða.

Ár er gumna góðe;
get ek at o,rr var Fróðe.

Sól er landa ljóme;
lúti ek helgum dóme.

Týr er æinendr ása;
opt værðr smiðr blása.

Bjarkan er laufgrønstr líma;
Loki bar flærða tíma.

Maðr er moldar auki;
mikil er græip á hauki.

Lo,gr er, fællr ór fjalle
foss; en gull ero nosser.

Ýr er vetrgrønstr viða;
vænt er, er brennr, at sviða.

translation

Wealth is a source of discord between relatives;
the Wolf lives in the forest.
Dross comes from bad iron;
the reindeer often runs over the frozen snow.
The giant procures torment women;
misfortune makes few men.
The estuary is the location of many trips;
but a case is that of swords.
Ride is said to be the worst thing for horses;
Regin forged the finest sword.
The ulcer is fatal for children;
death makes a pale body.
Hail is the coldest cornfields;
Christ created the world of old.
The constraint gives you the choice limited;
a naked man is chilled by the frost.
Ice we call the broad bridge;
the blind man must be conducted.
Abundance is a favor to men;
I say that Frothi was generous.
The Sun is the light of the world.
I bow to the divine plan.
Tyr is the maimed God;
often the Smith must blow.
Birch has green leaves all shrubs;
Loki was lucky in his cunning.
The man is the growth of powder;
great is the claw of the Falcon.
A waterfall is a river falling from a mountainside;
but the ornaments are golden.
The rate is the most green trees in winter;
crèpita not when burning.
read other Rune poems

 


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