GUNWAR’S SONG

Hraerik’s recovery was very slow and he spent his days locked up in his bedchamber attempting to compose a poem in memory of his slain wife.  But the writing was going slower than his own recovery, and, as days drew into weeks and his health began to return, a date was set for his beheading.  The last few days, Hraerik worked feverishly on his poem for his wife, but the words just would not come.  It was just the day before his execution when Hraerik finally completed the work, and when Eyvind Ingvarson told King Bjorn that it was done, he had Hraerik brought to his hall to recite it.

Hraerik was brought forth to the highseat hall and given a place of honour opposite King Bjorn.  Swedish maidens brought him ale, and a fine feast was spread before him.  Once Hraerik had had his fill, he strode out into the open area between the high seats and began to recite his poem:

GUNWAR’S SONG  by Hraerik ‘Bragi’ Hraegunarson

© Copyright by Brian Howard Seibert

Tuning and Chords: Standard for Lyres, Lutes, Tars and Harps

Key: A, Strumming Pattern: Orchestrated, Plucking Pattern: Medium

“I sit (A) down and I try

 to (C) write a song how you’ve (G) left me now,

 but the (D) words won’t come,

 the (A) words won’t come.

 And my (A) memories,

 they (C) flow like white water, (G) echoing…

 how it (D) used to be,

 it (A) used to be.

 Gun(G)war, Gun(D)war,

 will I see you (A+) again?

            (G)       Gun(D)war,

 will I (D+) see you, will I see you?

 My mind’s (A) eye, it sees

 the (C) radiant glow of your (G) beauty

 through (D) the dust of

 the (A) Don plain.

 Soul (A) wandering

 all alone (C) as you wait for your (G) lover

 to (D) join you

 in (A) heaven.

 But the (A) God of gods will

 look (C) down, my life fades on the (G) morrow,

 and (D) cast my soul

 to the (A) winds.  Tween

 earth and (C) stars, I shall always (G) remember

 the (D) dream of your love

 in my (A) heart.

 Gun(G)war, Gun(D)war,

 will I see you (A+) again?

            (G)       Gun(D)war,

 will I (D+) see you, will I see you?

 Take me (A) back through time,

 (C) back to the day that I (G) met you;

 Westmar’s (D) champions,

 how they (A) baited me.

 Hraelauger (A) saved me,

 and (C) I won the hand of my (G) lover;

 Oh, the (D) fates did bless,

 my guile(A)fulness.

 But the (A) god of storms

 threatened (C) snow and my father did (G) sacrifice

 his (D) life to stem

 the (A) tide, and

 the (C) storm’s depart will (G) always bring back

 the (D) dream of your

 love in my (A) heart.

 Gun(G)war, Gun(D)war,

 will I see you (A+) again?

            (G)       Gun(D)war,

 will I (D+) see you, will I see you?

 On foot(A)-blades of bone

 we (C) razed the house of (G) Westmar,

 and old (D) Gotwar

 did (A) curse me.

 Twelve sons (A) swept up in time,

 she (C) tried to poison my (G) lover,

 but, with (D) Odin’s aid,

 my (A) wife I saved.

 But (A) fate would not

 be (C) denied fruition in (G) vengeance,

 and her (D) nephew

 blind(A)sided my wife,

 With (C) golden spear, fratri(G)cidally,

 He snuck (D) up and took her

 sweet (A) life.

 Gun(G)war, Gun(D)war,

 will I see you (A+) again?

            (G)       Gun(D)war,

 will I (D+) see you, will I see you?

 The (A) lands of

 Tmutoro(C)kan, they cried out (G) in anguish,

 for my (D) wife’s blood

 wet the (A) sands of.

 As she (A) died out

upon the (C) Don Plain, my blade died (G) beside her;

 ’twas the (D) curse of

 Tyr(A)fingr.

 And the (A) cycle has gone

 near full (C) round, for I die on the (G) morrow,

 her (D) vengeance is

 gone to the (A) winds. Though

 gods (C) keep us apart, I shall always (G) remember

 the (D) dream of her love

 in my (A) heart.

 Gun(G)war, Gun(D)war,

 will I see you (A+) again?

            (G)       Gun(D)war,

 will I (D+) see you, will I see you?

 I sit (A) down and I try

 to (C) write a song how you’ve (G) left me now,

 but the (D) words won’t come,

 the (A) words won’t come….”

Hraerik’s poem was near a full drapa in length, and, when he had finished, everyone in the hall, King Bjorn included, rose up and applauded his work.  “A poem such as this,” the Swedish King began, “shall commend your fair Princess Gunwar’s memory to the ends of time.  If you could but write such a fine poem on my behalf, I’d be inclined to pardon you.”

That’s what my kinsman Bragi the Old did when he had to face the anger of King Bjorn of Sweden.  He made a drapa of twenty stanzas overnight and that’s what saved his head.”

            Prince Arinbjorn; Egil’s Saga (c.1230 A.D.).