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Vengeance bequeathed in its stead.
Of fosterland also you robbed me,
Stranger I roam through the world,
Holding all men as my foemen,
Since the day of my brother’s death.
“For you took too my only brother,
Vikar of Tiundaland; he fared
To join him with Olaf Trygvason,
Sued for baptism and cleansing.
Darkened was life grown for him;
First on the red day of Svolder
Smiled he for once in his life,
Sent homeward his greetings, and fell.
“Like a long-haired, sore-smitten wolf
Drag I about my heavy loss,
And from my gaping wounds
Blood-stained is all my track.
Which of us stands in the other’s debt?
Which can demand an accounting?
Iamtlanders all, to me is your debt
Far more than a life is worth.
“At times when alone I am sitting
In the deep forests yonder,
Gazing at even out over
All of your dwellings fair—
The gleaming lights from your windows,
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