17.

’Unpleasing to me

Our people’s mood,

Each seeking his own

In selfish peace.

To the happier bees’ home

Hath passed my son,

My good wife’s child

To his glorious kin.

18.

’Odin, mighty monarch,

Of minstrel mead the lord,

On me a heavy hand

Harmful doth lay.

Gloomy in unrest

Ever I grieve,

Sinks my drooping brow,

Seat of sight and thought.

19.

’Fierce fire of sickness

First from my home

Swept off a son

With savage blow:

One who was heedful,

Harmless, I wot,

In deeds unblemished,

In words unblamed.