5.

’Of father fallen

First I may tell;

Of much-loved mother

Must mourn the loss.

Sad store hath memory

For minstrel skill,

A wood to bloom leafy

With words of song.

6.

’Most woful the breach,

Where the wave in-brake

On the fenced hold

Of my father’s kin.

Unfilled, as I wot,

And open doth stand

The gap of son rent

By the greedy surge.

7.

’Me Ran, the sea-queen,

Roughly hath shaken:

I stand of beloved ones

Stript and all bare.

Cut hath the billow

The cord of my kin,

Strand of mine own twisting

So stout and strong.