She winds the cord of fate
For good and ill.
On the World Ash-Tree she once wove
Where great and full-green,
The World Ash-Tree's strong trunk
Sways in the cool shadows -
The source of the Urðarbrunnr
The sacred Wisdom-draught.
A bold god stepped up to the well
Proudly up to the draught.
Wotan broke off a branch
As thick around as a tree trunk.
The wound hurt and thinned the wood,
The leaves fell soon after.
The proud World Ash-Tree withered
Death its only fate.
The sacred well ran dry
The Urðarbrunnr died.
She weaves no more at the World Tree
The old wise Norn.