Wynn is won             by ones who choose To make way             for wild wisdom, Let madness fill        the mind and truly Make of them            more than men: Into a roomy light      they arise Freed from the fetters  fastened by life, Loosed from the bonds   of blindness The God's dawn          dazzles such souls With sweet lore,        Sath's knowledge. More than gold          this gift skalds prize: Words lead to words,    and wit is kindled, The speech of Hár       spills from their lips, The mead of fire,       Fjöllnir's brew That brimming, burns,   turns blood to flame, Wells up, ruthless      to whelm awareness Making limbs tremble    in a trance so sweet Linked lovers           long as well To drown themselves     in that draught of bliss Of laughter and love    that, light-filled, seems Blinding bright,        weal-bestowing; But the wise beware     too wonderful dreams, Lest they weep          upon awakening-- Only wild skalds wish   for Woden's bliss Or with welling words   have won His gifts.