| There had always been the unearthly dark
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| of fathomless absence
|
| until, from the south, came Muspellsheim’s
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| inferno of flaring yellow flames.
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| And then, from the North, came Niflheim
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| where legions of freezing shadows lurked.
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| The abyss was crystalled by the Northern frost
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| that breath from the burning south made melt
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| and from this fusion there was made
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| the towering troll: immense Ymir.
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| From whose slain body’s blood the sword of Odin
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| caused the oceans. |
| And from whose carcass he claimed
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| the Earth. |
| Man-trod Midgard was all his flesh.
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| From the bulk of the bones were the moountains made
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| and from his tangled hair: the trees.
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| His hollowed skull was hauled to form the vaulted sky
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| where the Gods assembled constellations;
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| in their cauldron Alchemized the sun.
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| To runic wands of task it turned until,
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| at last, the first veined-blade of grass had grown. |