Each Disa smiled enchanting, when courteous I address’d her;
With blushes Fulla trembled, when in my arms I press’d her.
She is in love with Lok, I know, poor little innocent thing!
And many other Disar in my net I hoped to bring.
My impudence doth in their cheek the blush of shame recall,
But soon, becoming used to it, they’ll cease to blush at all.
Sweet to my taste Sâhrimner was, and sweeter still the mead;
And when the proud Einherier pranced about the flow’ry mead
With shield and lance, I was content: all things to hear and see,
And mock at all the gods by turns, was charming sport to me.