Rígsþula - The Lay of Ríg
When we think of the Norse gods, we often imagine the clang of swords, the vast halls of Valhalla or the storming might of Thor. Yet among the verses of the Poetic Edda lies a quieter, subtler poem - one that does not speak of battle or doom, but of birth, hierarchy and the divine roots of humankind.
This is Rígsþula, The Lay of Ríg - a myth of origin rather than conflict, where a wandering god walks among mortals to shape the very structure of society. It is not a tale of war or prophecy, but of inheritance, identity and the sacred order that binds gods and men.
Through its verses, we glimpse how the Norse understood class and kinship not as accidents of fortune, but as reflections of divine purpose. The poem is both myth and social commentary - a window into the minds of a people for whom the human world was never separate from the divine.
It is, in essence, a story about where we come from - and what that means.
About
Rígsþula, or The Lay of Ríg, is one of the more enigmatic poems of the Poetic Edda. It tells of Ríg, a mysterious figure later identified with the god Heimdall, who journeys through the world visiting three households - each one representing a different level of Norse society.
Ríg first visits a poor, humble home, where he shares food and rest with an old couple. After his visit, a son named Þræll (Thrall) is born, ancestor of the slave class. He then visits a modest, well kept household, where a child named Karl (Freeman) is born - the forefather of the working farmers and craftsmen. Finally, Ríg comes to a grand hall of nobility, where Jarl (Earl) is born, the ancestor of rulers, warriors and lords.
In this final household, Ríg takes a personal interest, teaching Jarl the runes (symbols of magic and wisdom) and recognising him as his true heir. Through this act, Ríg blesses the noble line with divine knowledge and leadership.
The poem ends (in the surviving text) with the rise of Jarl’s sons and the promise of a future ruler, Konr ungr (“young king”), whose name may hint at the divine origin of kingship itself. Unfortunately, the poem breaks off here (its ending lost to time) but what remains is a remarkable glimpse into how the Norse imagined the shaping of human society under divine guidance.
History
Rígsþula survives only in part. The ending is missing from the original manuscript, and several verses appear to have been lost over time. What we know of it comes from the Codex Wormianus, a 14th-century Icelandic manuscript that also preserves other Eddic poems and treatises.
Scholars generally date Rígsþula to the late 10th or early 11th century, a period when Norse culture stood at a crossroads between pagan tradition and the growing influence of Christianity. Its social and moral tone reflects a world deeply aware of hierarchy and divine order - ideas that resonated with both pagan and early Christian thought.
The identity of Ríg has long fascinated scholars. Though the poem never names him directly as Heimdall, it describes him in terms that align with the god’s later mythic role - a divine observer and guardian of humanity. Heimdall, in other sources, is said to be the “father of mankind,” which fits the poem’s portrayal perfectly. Yet the absence of his name suggests that Rígsþula may preserve an older form of the myth, possibly before Heimdall became a distinct figure in Norse cosmology.
The name Ríg itself is of special interest. It likely comes from the Old Irish word “rí,” meaning “king.” This linguistic link points to Celtic influence, which is unsurprising given the close contact between Norse settlers and Celtic peoples in Ireland and Scotland during the Viking Age. Cultural exchange in this period was rich and complex - blending myth, language, and social ideas across seas and kingdoms.
Thus, Rígsþula stands as both a mythic poem and a cultural artefact: a bridge between Norse and Celtic tradition, between oral myth and written record, between ancient belief and medieval preservation.
Structure and Themes
Rígsþula is a myth of social order - a divine explanation for the structure of human society. Through Ríg’s three visits, the poem maps out the Norse world’s three primary classes:
Þræll (Thrall) – the labourers and servants
Karl (Freeman) – the farmers and craftsmen
Jarl (Noble) – the warriors and rulers
Each class is born from divine encounter, not mere human chance. Their traits, homes, and occupations are lovingly detailed, painting a vivid picture of Norse life - from smoky hearths and rough tools to rich halls and shining weapons.
Ríg’s presence at each birth symbolises divine participation in human fate. Even the lowest and humblest are touched by godly influence. In this way, the poem reflects a view of society as sacredly ordered - each role necessary, each person part of a larger, divinely woven pattern.
The teaching of runes to Jarl is especially significant. Runes in Norse thought were not just letters but sources of spiritual and magical power. By granting this knowledge to the noble line, Ríg sanctifies rulership itself. Kingship becomes not merely political but spiritual - a gift from the gods, tied to wisdom not just might.
Through its rhythm and repetition, the poem mirrors oral storytelling traditions, designed to be spoken aloud. Its steady structure (three households, three births, three destinies) reflects both mythic symbolism and the Norse fascination with triads, cycles and balance.
Interpretations and Scholarly Debates
Scholars have long debated whether Rígsþula should be read as a mythic tale, a social allegory or a political poem.
Some view it as a mythological explanation for social hierarchy - a divine justification for class divisions in Norse culture. By tracing each class back to Ríg, the poem gives sacred legitimacy to the existing order. In this interpretation, it functioned much like later medieval texts that rooted kingship in divine will.
Others see it as a more symbolic or philosophical piece, expressing the Norse idea that all human beings share divine origin despite their differences. Ríg fathers every class, not just the noble one - suggesting a shared spiritual ancestry. In that sense, the poem may have been less about division and more about connection.
A third view interprets Rígsþula as a cultural memory of Indo European myth, echoing stories from other traditions where gods or culture bringers create the ranks of humanity. Parallels can be found in Hindu, Celtic, and even Greek myth, where divine visitors shape or divide human society according to sacred pattern.
The missing ending adds to the mystery. Some speculate that the final verses told of Konr ungr, the divine “young king,” who unites all classes under his rule - symbolising harmony between divine and mortal, ruler and ruled. If so, the poem may have originally ended in a vision of unity rather than hierarchy.
Legacy
Though Rígsþula is not as well known as Völuspá or Hávamál, its influence is profound. It stands as one of the few surviving Norse myths to focus on human society rather than divine drama, revealing how the ‘Vikings’ saw themselves within the cosmic order.
For historians, it offers rare insight into Viking Age social structure, language, and belief. For mythologists, it preserves one of the clearest examples of a divine human creation myth, where the world of men is shaped not by conflict but by contact with the divine.
And for modern readers, it remains deeply resonant. In an age obsessed with identity and class, The Lay of Ríg reminds us that our divisions are ancient - yet so too is our shared origin. All are children of Ríg, all bound by the same sacred breath that animates the world.
Rígsþula may lack the thunder of gods or the doom of Ragnarök, but its quiet wisdom endures. In its verses, we find a world where class and labour, birth and worth, are all threads in a single divine web.
When Ríg walks the earth, he does not judge or destroy - he blesses. He looks into every home, sits by every hearth and leaves behind the seed of something sacred. Through him, the Norse saw their own world mirrored in the eyes of a god: flawed yet ordered, mortal yet divine.
It is not a poem of conquest or prophecy, but of belonging.
And in that, perhaps, lies its greatest power.
Below, you’ll find my modern English translation of the poem, written to make it easier to follow. For those interested in the source, I’ve also included the original Old Norse text.
Rígsþula – Modern English Translation
They say in the old tales that one of the gods, named Heimdall, once travelled along a lonely seashore. After a long walk, he came to a small dwelling. There, he called himself Ríg. What follows is the story told in the ancient poem.
Long ago, the god, wise and strong,
Walked along the green ways of the world.
Mighty and noble, Ríg went striding,
Journeying through the lands of men.
At last, he came to a humble home.
The door stood upon its worn posts,
And when he entered, a fire burned low on the floor.
By the hearth sat an old man and an old woman,
Clothed in rough and ancient garments.
Their names were Ai and Edda - Great-grandfather and Great-grandmother.
Ríg greeted them kindly and spoke with wisdom.
Soon he sat down in the centre of the room,
With the old man and woman sitting on either side of him.
Then Edda brought out a loaf of bread -
heavy, coarse, and dark with husks.
She set it upon the table with a bowl of thin broth.
The best they had to offer was a piece of boiled calf’s meat.
Ríg spoke with them for a while,
Sharing words and warmth by the fire.
When night came, he made ready to rest,
And lay down between the two of them in their bed.
Ríg stayed with them for three nights,
Then he rose and continued on his way,
Travelling along the middle path once more.
In time, nine months passed.
Then Edda gave birth to a son.
They sprinkled him with water and wrapped his dark hair in cloth.
They named the child Þræll, which means Thrall - the slave.
His skin was rough and wrinkled,
The knuckles of his hands were knotted and hard.
His fingers were thick, his face coarse and ugly,
His back was bent, and his heels were large and calloused.
As he grew, he became strong and tireless.
He soon put his strength to use -
Twisting ropes of bast fibre,
Carrying heavy loads,
And bringing home bundles of wood all day long.
One day a woman came to their house.
Her legs were crooked, her feet were stained,
Her arms were darkened by the sun,
And her nose was flat.
Her name was Thir.
Soon the woman, Thir, sat down in the middle of the room,
And beside her sat Þræll, the son of the house.
They whispered together, sharing quiet words,
And when evening came, they made their bed and lay down -
Þræll and Thir - until the day was done.
In time they had many children,
And they lived simply and contentedly.
Their sons were called Fjosnir and Klur, Hreim and Kleggi,
Kefsir, Fulnir, Drumb, Digraldi, Drott, Leggjaldi,
Lut, and Hosvir.
They cared for the household,
Spread dung upon the fields,
Guarded swine, tended goats,
And dug turf for fuel.
Their daughters were Drumba and Kumba,
Ökkvinkalfa, Arinnefla,
Ysja, Ambott, Eikintjasna,
Totrughypja, and Tronubeina.
From them descended the race of thralls -
The labourers and servants of the world.
Then Ríg went onward again,
Following the straight road before him.
At last he came to another hall,
Where a well-kept door hung on its hinges.
When he entered, a fire burned warmly on the floor.
This house belonged to Afi and Amma -
Grandfather and Grandmother.
There they sat together, each busy with their work.
The man was cutting wood for the weaver’s beam,
His beard neatly trimmed, a curl upon his brow.
His clothes were well-fitted,
And in the corner stood a carved chest for their goods.
The woman sat at her weaving,
Holding the distaff firmly in her hands.
With arms outstretched, she worked the thread,
Drawing the cloth across the loom.
A band was tied around her head,
A smock covered her breast,
And over her shoulders she wore a kerchief,
Fastened neatly with shining clasps.
Ríg entered and spoke with wise and courteous words.
Soon he sat down in the middle of the room,
With Afi and Amma seated on either side of him.
Then Amma set the table.
She brought out the food and filled the vessels,
And of all the dishes, the best was boiled calf’s meat.
Ríg spoke kindly and well,
Then rose from the table and made ready to rest.
He lay himself down in their bed,
With Afi and Amma on either side of him.
There he stayed for three nights,
Then went on his way along the middle road once more.
In time, nine months passed.
In time, Amma gave birth to a son.
They sprinkled him with water, and named him Karl - meaning Freeman.
She wrapped him in cloth, and his cheeks were ruddy,
His eyes bright and full of life.
As he grew, he became strong and capable.
He yoked oxen and set the ploughs in order,
Built houses and raised barns,
Made carts with his own hands,
And guided the plough across the open fields.
One day, they brought home a bride for Karl.
She was dressed in goatskins and carried keys at her belt —
A mark of her place as mistress of the house.
Her name was Snör, and she sat modestly beneath her veil.
Together they prepared a home, exchanged rings,
Dressed the bed, and built their dwelling.
They had many sons, and they lived well and happily.
Their sons were named Hal, Dreng, Holth, Thegn, and Smith,
Breith, Bondi, Bundinskeggi,
Bui, Boddi, Brattskegg, and Segg.
They also had daughters, whose names were these:
Snot, Bruth, Svanni, Svarri, Sprakki,
Fljoth, Sprund, Vif, Feima, and Ristil.
From them descended the race of freemen -
The farmers and craftsmen of the world.
From there, Ríg went on his way once more,
Walking straight along the road ahead.
Before long he saw a fine hall,
Its doors facing south to the sun.
The great doorway stood open,
And a shining ring hung upon its posts.
He entered, and the floor was strewn with clean rushes.
Inside, two people sat gazing fondly at each other -
Faðir and Móðir, Father and Mother.
They played gently with their fingers as they spoke.
The master of the house sat working at his craft,
Winding bowstrings, shaping arrow shafts,
And carving graceful bows.
The lady sat nearby, looking over her fine arms.
She smoothed the cloth and fitted the sleeves of her gown.
A bright cap covered her head,
Golden clasps fastened the dress across her breast.
Her gown was deep blue, and her train wide and flowing.
Her brows were shining, her face radiant,
And her neck was fairer than newly fallen snow.
Ríg entered and spoke with wise and noble words.
Soon he sat down in the middle of the room,
With Faðir and Móðir seated on either side of him.
Then Móðir brought out a fine embroidered cloth,
Pure linen gleaming white.
She spread it carefully upon the table,
And laid on it thin loaves, white with the finest wheat.
Then Móðir brought out the vessels filled with food,
Their lids gleaming with silver.
She set them before her guests -
Platters of roasted meat and well-cooked birds.
In the pitcher was rich wine,
And the cups were of polished silver.
They ate and drank, talking together
Until the day’s light faded away.
Ríg spoke with wise and noble words.
When evening came, he rose from the table
And made ready to rest.
He lay himself down in their bed,
With Faðir and Móðir on either side of him.
There he stayed for three nights,
Then went forth again along the middle road.
And in time, nine months passed.
Then Móðir bore a son.
They sprinkled him with water and wrapped him in silk.
They named him Jarl - the Noble.
His hair was golden-blond, his cheeks bright,
And his eyes shone keen and sharp,
Glinting like a serpent’s gaze.
Jarl grew swiftly in his parents’ hall.
He learned to brandish shields and wind bowstrings,
To shoot arrows and shape his own shafts.
He cast spears and wielded lances,
Rode horses and unleashed hounds,
Handled swords with skill -
And even swam through the waves with strength and grace.
Then, straight from the grove, Ríg came striding.
He walked tall and strong, and he taught Jarl the runes -
The sacred signs of wisdom and power.
By name he called him, and claimed him as his son,
Bidding him to rule far and wide,
And to hold fast the ancient inheritance of his forefathers.
(The verses are lost here…)
But it is told that Jarl rode forward,
Through the dark forest and over frosty cliffs,
Until at last he came upon a great hall.
There he raised his spear and brandished his shield,
Spurred his horse, and struck with his shining sword.
He waged war and reddened the battlefield,
Slew warriors, and won lands for himself.
Soon Jarl held eighteen great halls.
He gathered wealth and gave it freely -
Jewels, bright stones, and fine, slender horses.
He shared out rings and arm-bands among his men,
Winning fame for his generosity and might.
His messengers then travelled across the wet roads and open lands,
Until they came to the hall where Hersir, a local lord, dwelt.
Hersir’s daughter was fair and fine-fingered,
A wise maiden named Erna.
They sought Erna’s hand and brought her home,
Veiled and wedded to Jarl.
Together they dwelt in joy and peace,
And soon they had children,
Living long and happily in their hall.
Their sons were many: Bur was the eldest, Barn the next,
Then Joth and Athal, Arfi and Mog,
Nith and Svein, who swiftly grew strong.
They played in the meadows, Sun and Nithjung,
Swimming and laughing in the bright streams.
One was named Kund, and the youngest of all was Kon.
The sons of Jarl grew tall and skilled.
They tamed wild beasts, rounded bucklers,
Shaped spear-shafts, and shook their weapons with pride.
But Kon the Young was unlike the rest.
He learned the secret runes,
The eternal runes of life and power.
He knew how to shield warriors in battle,
To dull the sword’s edge,
And even to still the raging seas.
He learned the speech of birds,
Could quiet flames and calm troubled minds,
Soothe sorrow and heal the heart.
Strong was he - the strength of eight men burned within him.
Soon Kon the Young shared the runes with Ríg-Jarl,
But his skill outshone even his father’s.
He was wiser, craftier, and greater in power.
He sought the right to bear his ancestor’s name,
And so he was called Ríg,
Keeper of the runes and heir of divine wisdom.
Young Ríg-Kon rode forth through forest and grove,
Letting fly his arrows and luring the birds.
Then from a branch above him a crow began to speak:
“Why lurest thou the birds, Kon?
Why waste thy shafts on wing and feather?
“Far better it were for thee to ride forth,
To test thy strength in battle -
To lead a host of men, and strike thy foes down.”
“For the halls of Dan and Danp are rich and noble,
And greater their power than any thou hast gained.
They are masters of the sea’s prow and sail,
Skilled in the trial of weapons,
And mighty in the giving of wounds.”
Rígsþula – Old Norse Translation
Svá segja menn í fornum sögum, at einnhverr af ásum, sá er Heimdallr hét, fór ferðar sinnar ok fram með sjóvarströndu nökkurri, kom at einum húsabæ ok nefndist Rígr. Eftir þeiri sögu er kvæði þetta:
1. Ár kváðu ganga grænar brautir
öflgan ok aldinn ás kunnigan,
ramman ok röskvan Ríg stíganda.
2. Gekk hann meir at þat miðrar brautar;
kom hann at húsi, hurð var á gætti;
inn nam at ganga, eldr var á golfi;
hjón sátu þar hár at arni,
Ái ok Edda, aldinfalda.
3. Rígr kunni þeim ráð at segja;
meir settisk hann miðra fletja,
en á hlið hvára hjón salkynna.
4. Þá tók Edda ökkvinn hleif,
þungan ok þykkvan, þrunginn sáðum;
bar hon meir at þat miðra skutla,
soð var í bolla, setti á bjóð;
var kalfr soðinn krása beztr.
5. Rígr kunni þeim ráð at segja;
reis hann upp þaðan, réðsk at sofna;
meir lagðisk hann miðrar rekkju,
en á hlið hvára hjón salkynna.
6. Þar var hann at þat þríar nætr saman,
gekk hann meir at þat miðrar brautar;
liðu meir at þat mánuðr níu.
7. Jóð ól Edda jósu vatni,
hörvi svartan, hétu Þræl.
8. Hann nam at vaxa ok vel dafna;
var þar á höndum hrokkit skinn,
kropnir knúar, fingr digrir,
fúlligt andlit, lotr hryggr,
langir hælar.
9. Nam han meir at þat magns of kosta,
bast at binda, byrðar gerva;
bar hann heim at þat hrís gerstan dag.
10. Þar kom at garði gengilbeina,
aurr var á iljum, armr sólbrunninn,
niðrbjúgt er nef, nefndisk Þír.
11. Miðra fletja meir settisk hon;
sat hjá henni sonr húss;
ræddu ok rýndu, rekkju gerðu
Þræll ok Þír þrungin dægr.
12. Börn ólu þau,
- bjuggu ok unðu, -
hygg ek at héti Hreimr ok Fjósnir,
Klúrr ok Kleggi, Kefsir, Fúlnir,
Drumbr, Digraldi, Dröttr ok Hösvir.
Lútr ok Leggjaldi;
lögðu garða, akra töddu,
unnu at svínum, geita gættu,
grófu torf.
13. Dætr váru þær Drumba ok Kumba,
Ökkvinkalfa ok Arinnefja,
Ysja ok Ambátt, Eikintjasna,
Tötrughypja ok Trönubeina.
Þaðan eru komnar þræla ættir.
14. Gekk Rígr at þat réttar brautir,
kom hann at höllu, hurð var á skíði,
inn nam at ganga, eldr var á golfi,
hjón sátu þar, heldu á sýslu.
15. Maðr teglði þar meið til rifjar;
var skegg skapat, skör var fyrir enni,
skyrtu þröngva, skokkr var á golfi.
16. Sat þar kona, sveigði rokk,
breiddi faðm, bjó til váðar;
sveigr var á höfði, smokkr var á bringu,
dúkr var á halsi, dvergar á öxlum.
Afi ok Amma áttu hús.
17. Rígr kunni þeim ráð at segja;
[meir settisk hann miðra fletja,
en á hlið hvára hjón salkynna].
18. [Þá tók Amma]
var kalfr soðinn krása beztr.
19. [Rígr kunni þeim ráð at segja]
reis frá borði, réð at sofna;
meir lagðisk hann miðrar rekkju,
en á hlið hvára hjón salkynna.
20. Þar var hann at þat þríar nætr saman;
liðu meir at þat mánuðr níu.
21. Jóð ól Amma jósu vatni,
kölluðu Karl, kona sveip rifti,
rauðan ok rjóðan, riðuðu augu.
22. Hann nam at vaxa ok vel dafna,
öxn nam at temja, arðr at gerva,
hús at timbra ok hlöður smíða,
karta at gerva ok keyra plóg.
23. Heim óku þá hanginluklu,
geitakyrtlu, giftu Karli;
Snör heitir sú, settisk und rifti;
bjuggu hjón, bauga deildu,
breiddu blæjur ok bú gerðu.
24. Börn ólu þau, - bjuggu ok unðu, -
hét Halr ok Drengr, Hölðr, Þegn ok Smiðr,
Breiðr, Bóndi, Bundinskeggi,
Búi ok Boddi, Brattskeggr ok Seggr.
25. Enn hétu svá öðrum nöfnum,
Snót, Brúðr, Svanni, Svarri, Sprakki,
Fljóð, Sprund ok Víf, Feima, Ristill.
Þaðan eru komnar karla ættir.
26. Gekk Rígr þaðan réttar brautir;
kom hann at sal, suðr horfðu dyrr,
var hurð hnigin, hringr var í gætti.
27. Gekk hann inn at þat, golf var stráat;
sátu hjón, sáusk í augu,
Faðir ok Móðir, fingrum at leika.
28. Sat húsgumi ok sneri streng,
alm of bendi, örvar skefti;
en húskona hugði at örmum,
strauk of rifti, sterti ermar.
29. Keisti fald, kinga var á bringu,
síðar slæður, serk bláfáan;
brún bjartari, brjóst ljósara,
hals hvítari hreinni mjöllu.
30. Rígr kunni þeim ráð at segja;
meir settisk hann miðra fletja,
en á hlið hvára hjón salkynna.
31. Þá tók Móðir merkðan dúk,
hvítan af hörvi, hulði bjóð,
hon tók at þat hleifa þunna,
hvíta af hveiti, ok hulði dúk.
32. Framm setti hon fulla skutla,
silfri varða, á bjóð, fáin fleski
ok fugla steikða, vín var í könnu,
varðir kálkar;
drukku ok dæmðu, dagr var á sinnum.
33. Rígr kunni þeim ráð at segja;
reis hann at þat, rekkju gerði.
Þar var hann at þat þríar nætr saman;
gekk hann meir at þat miðrar brautar;
liðu meir at þat mánuðr níu.
34. Svein ól Móðir, silki vafði,
jósu vatni, Jarl létu heita;
bleikt var hár, bjartir vangar,
ötul váru augu sem yrmlingi.
35. Upp óx þar Jarl á fletjum;
lind nam at skelfa, leggja strengi,
alm at beygja, örvar skefta,
flein at fleygja, frökkur dýja,
hestum ríða, hundum verpa,
sverðum bregða, sund at fremja.
36. Kom þar ór runni Rígr gangandi,
Rígr gangandi, rúnar kendi;
sitt gaf heiti, son kveðsk eiga;
þann bað hann eignask óðalvöllu,
óðalvöllu, aldnar byggðir.
37. Reið hann meir þaðan myrkvan við,
hélug fjöll, unz at höllu kom;
skaft nam at dýja, skelfði lind,
hesti hleypði ok hjörvi brá;
víg nam at vekja, völl nam at rjóða,
val nam at fella, vá til landa.
38. Réð hann einn at þat átján búum,
auð nam skipta, öllum veita
meiðmar ok mösma, mara svangrifja,
hringum hreytti, hjó sundr baug.
39. Óku ærir úrgar brautir,
kómu at höllu, þar er Hersir bjó;
mey átti hann mjófingraða,
hvíta ok horska, hétu Erna.
40. Báðu hennar ok heim óku,
giftu Jarli, gekk hon und líni;
saman bjuggu þau ok sér unðu,
ættir jóku ok aldrs nutu.
41. Burr var inn ellsti, en Barn annat,
Jóð ok Aðal, Arfi, Mögr,
Niðr ok Niðjungr, - námu leika, -
Sonr ok Sveinn, - sund ok tafl, -
Kundr hét enn, Konr var inn yngsti
42. Upp óxu þar Jarli bornir,
hesta tömðu, hlífar bendu,
skeyti skófu, skelfðu aska.
43. En Konr ungr kunni rúnar,
ævinrúnar ok aldrrúnar;
meir kunni hann mönnum bjarga,
eggjar deyfa, ægi lægja.
44. Klök nam fugla, kyrra elda,
sefa of svefja, sorgir lægja,
afl ok eljun átta manna.
45. Hann við Ríg jarl rúnar deildi,
brögðum beitti ok betr kunni;
þá öðlaðisk ok þá eiga gat
Rígr at heita, rúnar kunna.
46. Reið Konr ungr kjörr ok skóga,
kolfi fleygði, kyrrði fugla.
47. Þá kvað þat kráka, sat kvisti ein:
"Hvat skaltu, Konr ungr, kyrra fugla?
Heldr mætti ér hestum ríða,
[hjörvi bregða] ok her fella.
48. Á Danr ok Danpr dýrar hallir,
æðra óðal en ér hafið;
þeir kunnu vel kjóli at ríða,
egg at kenna, undir rjúfa."
49. Brún bjartari, brjóst ljósara,
hals hvítari hreinni mjöllu.
50. Bjuggu hjón, bauga deildu.