Now Garmr howls loud before Gnipahellir,
The fetters will burst, and the Wolf run free;
Much do I know, and more can see
Of the fate of the gods, the mighty in fight.
The sea, storm-driven, seeks heaven itself,
O'er the earth it flows, the air grows sterile;
Then follow the snows and the furious winds,
For the gods are doomed, and the end is death.
Now comes to HlÃu00adn, yet another hurt,
When Óðinn fares to fight with the wolf,
And Beli's fair slayer seeks out Surt,
For there must fall the joy of Frigg.
Now Garmr howls loud before Gnipahellir,
The fetters will burst, and the Wolf run free;
Then follow the snows and the furious winds,
For the gods are doomed, and the end is death.
Now comes to Hlin, yet another hurt,
When Óðinn fares to fight with the wolf,
And Beli's fair slayer seeks out Surt,
For there must fall the joy of Frigg.
Then comes Sigfather's mighty son,
Viðarr, to fight with the foaming wolf;
In the giant's son does he thrust his sword
Full to the heart: his father is avenged.
Now Garmr howls loud before Gnipahellir,
The fetters will burst, and the Wolf run free;
Much do I know, and more can see
Of the fate of the gods, the mighty in fight.
The sea, storm-driven, seeks heaven itself,
O'er the earth it flows, the air grows sterile;
Then follow the snows and the furious winds,
For the gods are doomed, and the end is death.

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