2. What now troubles my only son? With what affliction art thou burthened, that thou thy mother callest, who to dust is come, and from human homes departed?
Son.
3. A hateful game thou, crafty woman, didst set before me, whom my has father in his bosom cherished, when thou badest me go no one knows whither, Menglod to meet.
Mother.
4. Long is the journey, long are the ways, long are men's desires. If it so fall out, that thou thy will obtainest, the event must then be as it may.
Son.
5. Sing to me songs which are good. Mother! protect thy son. Dead on my way I fear to be. I seem too young in years.
Mother.
6. I will sing to thee first one that is thought most useful, which Rind sang to Ran; that from thy shoulders thou shouldst cast what to thee seems irksome: let thyself thyself direct.
7. A second I will sing to thee, as thou hast to wander joyless on thy ways. May Urd's protection hold thee on every side, where thou seest turpitude.