Hymn to the Foaming One

Njord, Wisdom of the Coasts, Teacher of the Ebb and Flow ; what the tides give forth, the tides take away, and the tides give forth again. Those blessings that have been given, and been taken back, give forth again, O Lord of the Seas. Teach us that flow of inward and outward. Teach us how to utter thy name in goings-forth and comings-back. O Master of Ships, whose daughter is the Lady of Flowers and Love-Song, whose son is the Lord of Lust, you gave your daughter to the poet who exhibited odr, poetic eloquence, that mastery of the rant. You have, O Gull-King, the power to grant love, love as deep as the ocean, as playful as the waves, as long-lasting as the tides shall play upon the bosom of Mother Earth. When we are weary, we come to your sandy banks seeking grace, and surrender to wild beauty, as only you can grant, and those special rhythms of yours that you ward.

O I walked in the dark, I walked in the dark by your shores beneath the thin light of your brother Mani ; I walked, and the moonlight glistened on the crest of waves about to crash. I walked, and you spoke directly to my heart, in words no human would know, yet which every poet tries to capture in his rhymes and rhythms. For clearly you are the master of rhyme and rhythm, O Lord of the Seas, and poets come to you when they wish to woo, for your waters know the tales of a thousand affairs and love trysts. I walk your path, O Njord. Beloved Sol has drawn her chariot down, falling o'er the horizon, into the Varns, the woodland protection from wolves, yet Daegr's light shines barely in the western skies as he too walks down o'er the bridge that leads to Holy Hel. The western sky's light gleaming faintly on the white waves, the sky gives way to the black cloak of Grandmother Night. So Daeg gives way to Night on the shorelines. The Family of the Vanir in their endless pageants and dances : Father Njord, Mother Earth, Sister Sun, Brother Moon, Grandmother Night. This family lives here with us on this world, intimate. And Father of the Great Deep, your depths now match the cloak of Grandmother Night. Father of the Deep, of you we have no need to fear, for you shall guide our crafts through the storm and dank weather. We know the dangers of the fearful one, Aegir, the giant-lord who lives at the bottom of the sea with Ran, that heiti of Heid, and when they stir, the ocean surges uncontrollably. Thus the deep ocean's terror has the name of Aegir, but we will not call the blessed depths by his names, but we shall call you the Lord of the Deep, O Foaming One, one who gives without thinking, and takes with just as much ease. Give back again ; we long for your wealth!