Nordic Poem

This is a translation of a romantic poem by Bjarni Thorarensen, 'Veturinn' (Winter) made by Vilhjalmur Stefansson, the Icelandic/American pathfinder:

Who rides with such fury
A fiery charger
Through the high heavens
A horse snow-colored?
The mighty steed
From his mane tosses
Frozen flakes
That flutter earthward.
Glowing glitters

His gray armor
On his shoulder there hangs
A shield ice-covered
On his head he wears
The helm of terror
The fearful Aegis
Frosty helmet

He comes from the hoary
Haunts of midnight
Where the world force flows
From the well eternal
Where restless seas
Roar in breakers
On shores without spring
And summerless rocks.
He knows not of age

Though the oldest gods
Where his playmates ere
The earth was fashioned
The last world will die
And desolation
Veil the suns
Ere his way is ended.

The strong are strengthened
When his step approaches
The soft Earth grows firm
In his fierce embraces
The tears she wept
Are turned to diamonds
And her mourning garb
To a mantle of ermine.

�tis not truly said

That when Summer approaches
Winter flees
To the frozen Northland
He broods in the heavens
While humble spring
Leads summer in
Through sunlit meadows

�tis in his hands
The earth turns daily
In his powerful grasp
The poles are twirling
And he leaves
E�en a little moment
Naught of earth
That�s near to heaven.

�tis therefore we see
While summer lingers
The mountains still wear
The Winter�s livery
�tis therefore we see
That summer melts not
Heaven's hoar-frost
From the head of age.

http://www.trobar.org/prosody/pnort.php