Spákona
Upon her head
a lambskin hood sat,
black like deep night,
lined with ermine.
A strand of beads,
glassy and shining,
she wore at her neck,
like stars on thread.
Bound at her neck
she wore a blue cloak,
embroidered with gems
down to the hem.
Her hand carried
a capped brass distaff,
gems around the cap
glinted brightly.
The staff on cheek
overcomes the mind:
thrice left to forget,
right to recall.
A touchwood belt,
ready for tinder,
bore a leather purse
for lore-relics.
She wore shoes
of shaggy calfskin,
laced up with strong thongs
with latten bells.
White and furry
ermine gloves she wore.
The women chanted,
powers were moved,
sights were opened,
the unknown made known,
that seidh be done.
Caution, people!
Things must be done well.
Seidh is not simple,
spae is high work.
