Smooth-skinn’d and beardless man become; woman a beard shall wear;
Twilight will all the fashion be; day and night disappear:
Sweet violets on carrion bloom; a blade of straw a knife,
A spit a lily straight become: the warrior and his wife
Will change professions; she the javelin, he the distaff hold:
Such transformations wonderful our eyes will then behold.
But Thrymur is a serious wight, this must not be forgot,
He’s somewhat jealous too, and jokes he understandeth not:
And Freya must, if she consent to share the giant’s reign,
As Thrymur’s spouse, in subterranean gloom for aye remain.