A chair stood high under arched stone
It was made of skulls and brittle bones of the dead
There, one could see Hel brooding, she was white to the foot
Towards the crown of her head blue, from blood that ran beneath
A dead man's white bone, well bleached in the moonlight
She stretched out to torment, with a vengeful mind
It smelled of earth, she waved it like a wand
Like a scepter, she wielded it in her cruel hand
It was so quiet within, the smell of corpses everywhere
No winds moved there, only empty sighs were returned
Three blue-flamed torches stood by each of the dead
Beheld in empty terror, without a trace of blood
Thor was seen smiling, he turned around
He hastened forward into the ring of the dead
He then shouted these harsh words:
Thus will it be for every woman who dares not to follow Thor
You poor fools who fear injury and death
Now may Hel inflict injury eternally upon you, with woe and bitter hardship
You let not the helmet adorn your head in battle
You were created to tremble, so tremble for eternity
Then the harsh giant went steadily before Hela
He had to soften his voice in her dark home
He said, pallid woman, you punish justly
But I do not stand here of my own free will
To journey to the chieftain of Utgard, I had set my mind upon
He has caused me to wander in here
For tell me if you know which road I must take
To go to the strong kin in Jotunheim
Then to the swinger of Mjölnir, Hel shouted in her rough voice
It rang like the sword against a suit of armor
Depart from my black arch, walk ahead, soon you will be there
It dazzles me to behold the rosiness of your health
The agile god Thor waved hastily, with a bold glance
Loki turned away as Hel walked past him
Tightly he closed his eyes, so heavy to him that day
She looked at him and sighed, her scepter rang