Bates
Swamp Yankee
First off... Happy birthday, Tyra May you have many, many more happy ones. Hope the thesis isn't melting your brain too badly.
Which translation is that? Not quite the same as the ones I have, I like the flow of it.
I ween that I hung on the windy tree,
Hung there for nights full nine;
With the spear I was wounded, and offered I was
To Othin, myself to myself,
On the tree that none may ever know
What root beneath it runs.
None made me happy with loaf or horn,
And there below I looked;
I took up the runes, shrieking I took them,
And forthwith back I fell.
Which translation is that? Not quite the same as the ones I have, I like the flow of it.