Conscience, the giant scorpion, tears the heart
Of th’ vicious with its fangs: deep in their flesh
Fell Nidhög revels with insatiate tooth:
Flames crackle loud in the abyss profound,
And Bragur’s harp divine is heard no more.
Down in Hvergelmer Elivagor roars;
On every coast by shipwreck lives are lost:
The ancient firs and oaks with branches bare
Uprooted lie: the moon is swallow’d up
By Maanegarm: the sun, like out-burnt coal,