Ylermi

A translation of Ylermi

Ylermi the proud master
rode in through the temple door,
spoke in the nave of the church:
“Here is a man who
has no regrets
and does not reach for heaven.”

A statue on the wall spoke,
quoth a Virgin, made of wood:
“You will have regrets
once your house is in ashes.”

Ylermi the proud master
struck his shield,
rode away;
he saw his house in ashes,
spoke among the charred beams:
“A new house shall be made,
better than the first.”

Ylermi the proud master
rode to the centre isle,
swore at the crossing:
“Here is a man who
is not on his knees in ash,
who becomes greater from his grief.”

A statue on the wall spoke,
a stony Jesus received words:
“You will be on your knees in ash
once your wife has died.”

Ylermi the proud master
broke a whip of walrus bone,
rode away;
he saw his wife had died,
spoke by her side:
“A new wife shall be brought here,
better than the first.”

Ylermi the proud master
rode a stallion to the altar,
blasphemed on the baize of the Lord:
“Here is a man who
does not worry about bygones,
who travelled his course like a storm.”

A statue on the wall spoke,
a golden image uttered:
“You will worry
once your son is a madman.”

Ylermi the proud master
struck a lance to the floor,
rode away;
seeing his son was a madman,
he took an axe from his belt;
the father hewed
his own son down.
He shouted:
“Another son shall be made,
better than the first.”

Ylermi the proud master
rode his stallion through a window
into the midst of the congregation;
fire came from the muzzle of the stallion,
the stallion’s eyes burned,
but even brighter burned the eyes of the proud master,
standing in his saddle.

“Here is a man who
does not beg for forgiveness,
who showed his love with iron.”

A voice thundered from the clouds:
“You will beg
once you arrive in the underworld.”

Ylermi the proud master
felt the floor rot below,
saw a flame shoot up;
he drew his bloody sword,
threw a gauntlet into a rock
along with a severed hand,
still speaking as he sank:
“The church shall fall
before the gauntlet comes loose from the rock!
Ramparts shall break
before the finger crumbles on the wall!
Let a new age come first,
a different age, harder,
one that does not bow before death,
nor grovel on the road to the underworld.”
He spurred the stallion, and flames
engulfed his golden helmet. –
The gauntlet remains in the rock.

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