Freyja And The Brisingamen Poem by Jürgen Wagner

They say it happened long ago,
in lands where ancient legends grow,
where Freyja, Odin's cherished flame
kept temple watch in royal name

She wandered once through hill and glen
and in a cave, she saw four men
Four dwarves who forged a gem divine,
with skill and fire, what a shine!

The necklace gleamed with magic might,
its beauty caught her soul in flight
She offered silver, offered gold,
but none would take what she had told

Their price was steep: four nights of grace
with each of them in close embrace
She weighed the cost, then gave her will
and paid the price in caverns still

So Freyja gained the gleaming chain,
the Brisingamen, hers to gain
She slipped back home, her heart held fast,
she spoke no word of what had passed

But Loki, sly, eager to guess
found out the truth nevertheless
He crept inside her chamber deep,
a buzzing fly as she did sleep

He stole the gem without a call
and brought it straight to Odin's hall
The tattletale, with smug delight,
unveiled her secret in the night

And Freyja, caught, could not deny
the truth beneath a watchman's eye
She bore the weight of ancient blame
and had to play a fateful game

Two kings to curse with endless fight,
to battle on through day and night,
until a new belief should rise,
a dawn foretold by seer's eyes

At last, she claimed her necklace bright,
her silent joy, her sacred light
for spring must bloom, must shine, attract,
and love deserves the full respect

The new days came, the dawn of gods,
a fresh born faith with many odds
for love may spread to everyone,
to all who live beneath the sun

To all who breathe, to beast and tree,
to earth and sea in unity
Give peace a chance, let war grow thin,
let justice live and balance win