All courts have come to hold hard counsel,
People are gathered on Parliament Plain.
Growing dissent, a gap divides us:
Two creeds compete our customs to rule.
Some oaths are sworn by Öku-Thor,
some by the White Christ; which ones are valid ?
Rites bind agreements, religion keeps law;
peace will fail if we pursue both faiths.
Charged was I to choose for us all:
The cross or the hammer, the High Ones or Christ.
A heavy burden they bid me bear;
alone I seek counsel under my cloak.
How can I turn to betray my Gods,
not honor the Aesir my ancestors´ way ?
Thorgeir they named me, Thunderer´s Spear;
Thorgeir the traitor they may yet call me.
The Gods took blots and gave us blessings,
will barren become the fruitful fields ?
Bitter it is to break our troth
to follow the One from foreign lands.
Norway urges the new way on us,
holding as hostage our helpless children.
War they would wage, and weak we are
Torn in this quarrel, torn as am I.
The old faith I offer on unity´s altar
As sacrifice for sake of our folk.
No public worship; in private perhaps
and sagas survives a seed for the future.
Chill before sunrise settles the fog;
Dawning of Christ´s age, dusk for the Gods.
I cast away my cloak and my hope;
Fare thee well, Thunderer, here at Thingvellir.
I must go, they are waiting. With weary words
I will tell my folk which faith we shall follow.
Some will go gladdened and some will go grieving,
But one we become in custom and creed.
