Norse gods

Chapter 11: Mead of Poetry
Have you ever wondered where poetry comes from?Where do the songs and stories we recite come from?Have you ever asked yourself why some people's dreams are magnificent and popular, and are sung as poetry?As long as the sun rises and sets, and the moon waxes and wanes, are these poems still being sung?Have you ever wondered why some people are so gifted at creating moving songs, poems and stories and others are not?

It's a long story, and the story we're about to tell this time is not a glorious one: it's a story of murder, of trickery, of lies, of folly, of seduction and pursuit.Be quiet and listen.

The story happened at the beginning of time, between the game between the two protoss, the Asa Protoss and the Warner Protoss.The Asa Gods are fighting gods, they are happy to conquer, while the Vanir Gods are gentler, they are brothers and sisters together, making the land fertile and plants growing lushly, because of their divine power, they are also very powerful.

The Huaner Protoss and the Asa Protoss are in a melee, and they are equal to each other.The more they fought, the more they realized that they needed each other: what was war without good fields and pastures to produce food, to guarantee a feast of hearty, non-drunken feasts after every good war?

For the sake of peace, the two parties sat down to negotiate.Once the negotiations were over, they swore an armistice.The way the oath is sworn is this: each of the Asa and Vanir gods spits into a jar.Everyone's spittle mixed together, and their agreement came into effect.

Then they held a feast.Tasting delicacies and drinking mead, they talked and laughed and smelt wine and wine until the bonfires of the feast were flickering coals and the sun was about to rise over the eastern horizon.Asa and Vanir got up and left, wrapped themselves in fur coats, and walked into the morning mist and fresh snow.Odin said: "It would be a pity if the saliva representing peace was left there."

Brother and sister Frey and Freya are also the leaders of the Vanir Protoss. According to the truce agreement, after the truce, they will live in Asgard with the gods of the Asa Protoss.The siblings nodded. "We can change something," Frey said. "We should become a new god." Freya said, reaching into the jar.

With the stirring of her fingers, the saliva began to take shape, and after a while, a naked human figure stood in front of them.

"You are Kvasir," said Odin, "do you know who I am?"

"You are the greatest Odin," said Kvasir, "you are Grimnir and the third. You have other names, which I won't go into here, but I know them, and I still Know the poems and songs about them."

Kvasir, born of the union of the Aesir and the Vanir, is the wisest of the gods: he has both a brain and a heart.The gods scrambled to ask him questions, and his answers were always wise.He observes carefully and often interprets what he sees with accuracy and insight.

Soon after, Kvasir told the gods: "I am going on a journey. I am going to see the Nine Worlds, to see Midgard. There are questions that need to be answered, and I have not been asked yet. "

"So will you come back?" they asked.

"I'll be back," said Kvasir, "and I'll have to come back with you to solve that problem about the nets[8], and I'll have to solve it someday."

"About what?" Thor asked.But Kvasir just smiled, and he donned his cloak and walked up the Rainbow Bridge, leaving the gods bewildered.He has since left Asgard.

Kvasir went from city to city, village to village.He met all kinds of people and answered their questions politely and sincerely.Wherever Kvasir went, it became more prosperous after his visit, richer and more peaceful than before.

At that time, in a castle by the sea, there lived two dark elves.There they practiced spells and alchemy.Like other dwarves, they are very dexterous.They will make wonderful and wonderful things in workshops and castles.But there are still a few things they haven't finished, and they have become obsessed with these unfinished things.The two dwarf brothers were called Fayala and Gora.

Hearing that Kvasir was visiting a nearby town, they set out to find him.Brothers Fayala and Gora found Kvasir in the main hall, where he was answering the villagers' questions.The villagers were all amazed at his answer.He told the villagers how to purify water and how to use nettles to make cloth.He tells a woman who stole her knife and what the thief's motive was.When he finished speaking and the villagers invited him to dinner, the two dwarves waited for an opportunity to dispatch.

"We have a question for you that has never been asked by anyone," they said, "but only in private. Can you come with us?"

"I'll go with you," Kvasir said.

They went to the castle.Along the way, seagulls screamed, and the gray clouds that were forming in the sky merged with the gray water into a gray.The dwarves took Kvasir to their workshop deep in the castle.

"What are those?" Kvasir asked.

"Those are two jars. They are called Chanting jars and Borden jars."

"I see. And what are those?"

"You're so smart, how come you don't know this? It's a kettle. We call it Audrey—the pot of bliss."

"There are jars of harvested honey over there. Unsealed liquid honey."

"We do have jars of honey," Faiala said.

Gora looked at him contemptuously. "If you're as smart as the rumors say, you should already know what we're going to ask you without us asking. And you should also know what these things are for."

Kvasir nodded obediently. "It seems," he said, "that if you are both wise and evil, you have probably decided to kill the invited visitor and let his blood flow into the Jars of Chanting and Borden. Then you will use the Dreyer's Pot to simmer the blood. Then you'll mix the blood with unsealed honey and let it ferment until it becomes mead - the best mead. Just one sip and it's Makes anyone drunk, and bestows upon the drinker gifts of poetry and scholarship."

"We're really smart," Gora admits, "and some people probably think we're evil, too."

As he spoke, he slit Kvasir's throat.They hang Kvasir upside down over the jar until the last drop of blood runs out.They warmed the blood and honey with the Odrel's pot, and added some other things.They put in the berries and stir the liquid with a stick.After a while, it bubbled, and after a while, it stopped bubbling.They each took a sip, then looked at each other and laughed.What a novelty it was for the two brothers to be suddenly endowed with rhyme and poetry.

The next morning, several gods came together to find Kvasir. "Kvasir," they said, "he was last seen with you."

"Yes," answered the dwarves, "he came back with us, but then he found out that we were but foolish dwarves and lacked wisdom, and he choked to death with his own knowledge. We didn't even have time to ask him any problem."

"You mean he's dead?"

"Yes." Faiala and Gora said.They returned Kvasir's blood-drained body to these gods, and asked them to take it back to Asgard, so that they could hold a funeral or resurrection ceremony for Kvasir (because gods are different from other creatures, they die For them it is sometimes not eternal, and it is not uncommon for them to come back from the dead).

Henceforth, the dwarves held the mead of wisdom and poetry, and those who wished to have a taste of it had to beseech them.But Gora and Fajala only give mead to the guys they like, and they don't like anyone else but themselves.

Sometimes they had to entertain, though, like Gillyn the Giant and his wife: the dwarves invited them to visit the castle, and one winter day they did.

"Let's go rowing," said the dwarves to Gillyn.

The giant is too heavy, which makes the ship very deep draft.Usually dwarves can safely paddle across rocky seas because they are very light.But this time the ship was too heavy with Gillin on board.The ship hit a rock and capsized, and the giant fell into the sea.

"Swim back to the boat!" the dwarf brother called to Gillyn.

"I can't swim!" were Gillyn's last words.A wave came, salty sea water poured into his mouth, his head hit the rock, and after a while, he disappeared on the sea without a trace.

Faiala and Gora turned the boat over and rowed home.

Gilling's wife was waiting for them.

"Where's my husband?" she asked.

"Him?" Gora said. "Oh, he's dead."

"Drown." Fajala added helpfully.

Hearing the bad news, the giantess began to cry loudly.She cried as if every sound came from her torn soul.She called her husband by name and vowed to love him forever.She cried aloud for a while, and sobbed silently for a while.

"Shut up!" said Gora. "Your cries and howls are hurting my ears. It's too loud. It must be because you're a giant."

At this the Giant's Wife only wept louder.

"Well," Faiala said, "will it make you feel better if I take you to see the place where your husband died?"

She sniffled and nodded, weeping bitterly for her husband who would never return.

"Just stand there and we'll show you," Faiala said, telling her exactly where she should stand: she should walk through the gate and stand under the castle walls.Then he nodded to his brother Gora.Gora strode up to the city wall.

Gillyn's wife obediently walked out the door, and at that moment Gora let go of the rope holding the boulder.The stone fell and hit her on the head, and she fell dead instantly, her head smashed open.

"Good job!" Faiala said. "That horrible noise is killing me."

They dragged the lifeless body of the giantess from the edge of the rock and into the sea.The gray waves stretched out their fingertips and took her body away.Gilling and his wife are finally reunited in death.

The dwarf brothers shrugged and went on living in a castle by the sea, thinking they were the smartest people in the world.

They drank the mead of poetry every night and chanted beautiful and beautiful poems to each other.They composed a sublime and heroic ode to Gilling and his wife's return to the west.Every night, they stood on the top of the castle and recited these poems.After they had finished expressing their poetry and were exhausted, they fell into a deep sleep. The next morning, they woke up again in the place where they fell asleep last night.

This day was like every day before, except that when they woke up, they didn't open their eyes and see their castle as usual.

They awoke in the cabin to see an unknown giant paddling the waves.The sky was gray, and the black sea was roaring as the storm was approaching.The wind was high and the waves were rough, and the salty sea beat against the sides of the dwarves' boat, soaking them to the brim.

"Who are you?" asked the dwarves.

"I am Suthurn," said the Giant, "and I have heard you boast to the wind and the waves, and to the whole world, that you murdered my parents."

"Ah," said Gora, "that's why you tied us up?"

"It's true." Su Tuen said.

"Maybe you actually want to take us somewhere nice," Faiala said hopefully, "and then you'll untie us, let us feast and drink, laugh with us, and become best friends."

"I haven't thought about it that way," said Sutton.

It is the ebb tide when the reefs in the sea come out of the water.It was here, too, not long ago, that at high tide the rocks capsized the dwarves' boats, and Gillyn drowned.Sutuen lifted the two dwarves one by one and tied them to the rock.

"When the tide is high, these reefs are flooded," Fajala said, "but our hands are tied behind our backs. We can't swim. If you leave us here, there is no doubt that we will going to be drowned."

"That's exactly what I mean," said Sutton.He smiled, for the first time ever. "I'll just sit in your boat and wait quietly, waiting to admire you being drowned. When you're drowned, I'll go back to Jotunheim and tell my brother Bawuji and my daughter Grod that you are How did he die. Our family will be very happy, because the revenge has been avenged."

The sea level began to rise.The water covered the Dwarves' feet, and soon they were up to their navels.Before long, the beards of the dwarves were all floating in the foam of the sea, and their faces were full of fear and panic.

"Have pity on us!" they pleaded.

"Just like how you pitied my parents before?"

"We will compensate you! We will compensate you for the death of your parents! We will pay you."

"Your things cannot make up for the death of my parents. I am a rich giant. I have a huge castle in the mountains with many servants. I have wealth that I can never enjoy in my life. I have gold and precious stones. , and enough materials to make a thousand swords. I am the strongest magician. What can you give me? I have everything, can you give me something that I don't have yet?" Su Tuen asked.

The dwarves were silent.

The waves are surging, and the sea level is still rising.

"We have mead, mead of poetry," Gora struggled to gurgle, choking the water into his mouth.

"It's mead made of the blood of Kvasir, the wisest of gods!" cried Fajala. "Two jars and a jug, full of mead! No one but us has This mead. There is no other in the world!"

Sutton scratched the top of his head. "I have to think. I have to meditate. I have to reflect."

"Don't stop thinking about it! If you think about it again, we'll drown!" Fajala yelled as he struggled in the waves.

The tide is still rising.The waves beat the dwarves' heads, and they struggled to breathe, their eyes wide with fear.At this moment, the giant Sutun reached out and lifted Fajala up, and then Gora.

"The mead of poetry is acceptable as compensation. If you add something else, it's still fair. I'm sure you dwarves must have something valuable. In this way, I will spare you."

He threw the dwarves, still tied behind their backs and drenched, into the cabin.They struggled and writhed like two bearded lobsters.The giant rowed the boat back to shore.

Suturn took away the mead the dwarves had made from Kvasir's blood.He also took them some other things.But the dwarves were on the whole happy when he went--they were glad they had escaped with their lives.

Fayala and Gora told the people passing by the castle what Su Tuen had done.They told the people who did business with them in the market.They also told the crows nearby.

At this time, on the high throne of Asgard, Odin sat there.On his shoulders were the crows, Fokkin and Wuny, whispering in his ear what they had seen and heard in their travels through the Nine Realms.Odin's one-eyed twinkled when he heard the news of Suthurn's mead.

Those who heard the story called the Mead of Poetry the Ship of the Dwarves, because it carried Fajala and Gora safely back from the Reef; Audreyer, Borden, or Chan's mead.

Odin listened to the whispers of the ravens.He called for his cloak and hat.He summoned the gods and asked them to prepare three extremely huge wooden barrels.He said that once the casks were made, they were brought to the gates of Asgard.He told the gods that he was about to travel far, to visit the world.This excursion will take a while.

"I'll take two things," said Odin. "I'll need one of the best whetstones we have here, for sharpening knives. Also, I'll need the drill known as a Lati." It means drill, and it is the sharpest drill the gods have.It can drill very deep, through the hardest rock.

Odin threw the whetstone into the air, caught it and put it in his bag, next to the drill.Then he hit the road.

"I wonder what he's going to do," Thor said.

"If Kvasir was here, he would know," said Frigg. "He knows everything."

"Kvasir is dead," said Loki. "As for me, I don't care where the All-Father goes or why he does it."

"I'm off to help build the great cask that the All-Father asked for," said Thor.

Sutton entrusted the precious mead to his daughter Grod for safekeeping.She guards Mead on a mountain called Fnitberg in the heart of the Land of Giants.Odin did not go to the mountains.He went directly to the pasture of Suthun's brother Bawuji.

It was spring, and the fields were covered with straw, which was about to be cut for fodder.Bawuji had nine slaves, all giants like himself.They were busy mowing the grass with scythes as huge as small trees.

Odin watched them.At noon, they stopped to rest and eat lunch. At this time, Odin walked over and said, "I see you have been working for a while. Tell me, why does your master make you mow the grass with such blunt scythes?"

"Our sickles are not blunt," said a worker.

"Why do you say that?" asked another, "Our scythes are the sharpest."

"I'll show you what a really sharp knife looks like," said Odin. "Try this." He took the whetstone out of his pocket and rubbed it across the first blade, then the other. One until every scythe glistened in the sun.The giants stood around him, watching him sharpen his knife with a little embarrassment. "Now," said Odin, "try the knife again."

The giant slaves waved their scythes, yelling joyously as they stroked the grass of the prairie.The scythe is so sharp that mowing the grass is effortless as if by magic.The blade swam through the thickest grass without encountering any resistance.

"This is amazing!" they told Odin. "Can we buy your whetstone?"

"Buy it?" asked the All-Father. "Of course not. But maybe we can do something more interesting and fair. Come some of you, all of you. Stand in a circle, everyone Hold on tight to your scythe. Stand closer."

"We cannot stand any closer," said a giant slave. "The scythe is very sharp."

"You are very clever," said Odin, holding up the whetstone. "That's it. Whoever grabs it can have it!" He said, throwing the whetstone into the air.

As the stone fell, nine giants jumped up one after another.Everyone picks up the stone with the hand that does not hold the knife, and forgets about the hand that holds the knife (but the sickle they hold has only been sharpened by the father of the gods, and it is already extremely sharp) .

They jumped high and met each other in the air.The blade refracted the sun and shone brightly.

Scarlet liquid sprayed out in the sun, and one by one the bodies of the slaves collapsed to the ground next to the straw they had just cut.Odin stepped over the giant's corpse, retrieved the whetstone belonging to the gods, and put it back in his pocket.

Nine slaves, each with his throat slit by his partner's blade.

Odin walked to the hall of Bawuji, who was also the brother of Sutun.Odin asked him to stay overnight. "My name is Polfolk," said Odin.

"Porfolk," repeated Bawuji, "is a disgraceful name. It means 'one who does bad things.'"

"That's against my enemies," said the man who called himself Polfolk. "My friends like what I do. I can do what nine do, and I can work without sleep or sleep."

"You can stay overnight tonight." Bawuji said with a sigh, "but it's an unlucky time for you to come, it's a dark day. Yesterday I was a rich man with ten thousand hectares of fertile land and nine powerful slaves, They sowed and harvested, and worked and repaired. But tonight, I still have my fields and livestock, and my servants are all dead. They are killing each other suddenly, and I have no idea why they did it."

"It is indeed a dark day," said Odin, who called himself Polfolk. "Can you find another worker?"

"It won't work this year," Bawuji sighed, "it's spring now. All the good laborers have gone to help my brother Su Tuen, and there are very few people passing by here. You are my father in recent years. The first traveler I met who came to seek accommodation."

"Lucky you met me. Because I can do the job of nine."

"You're not a giant," said Bawuji, "you're just a small shrimp. How can you do my servant's job, let alone nine people's job?"

"If I don't finish the work of your nine servants, you don't pay me," said Polfolk, "but if I do..."

"So what?"

"In the far land, we have all heard stories of your brother Sutton's magical mead. I have heard people say that those who drink it have a gift for poetry."

"It is true. When we were children, Sutturn was never a poet. I was the poet in the family. But since he came back with the mead of the dwarves, he has been a poet, and a dreamer."

"If I work for you, sowing and plowing and reaping, and doing all the work of your dead servants, all I want in return is a taste of your brother Sutton's mead."

"But..." Bawuji frowned, "I can't give it to you, it's not mine. It's Sutun's."

"That's a pity," said Polfolk, "then I wish you a good harvest this year."

"Wait! Although the mead is not mine, if you keep your promise, I will take you to meet my brother Sutun. I will do my best to help you taste his mead."

"That's a deal," Polfolk said.

Polfork is the hardest worker in the world.Not to mention nine people, he worked more diligently and effectively than twenty people.He looked after the livestock alone.He harvested the crops alone.He works the land, and the land repays him a thousandfold.

"Porfolk," said Bawuji, as the first winter mists rolled in from the mountains, "you've got the wrong name. You've done good things, not bad ones."

"Have I done the work of nine men?"

"You finished it, and then you made nine people!"

"Then you'll help me taste Sutton's mead?"

"I will!"

The next morning they got up early, they walked and walked, and in the evening, they left the territory of Bawuji and reached the territory of Sutun at the foot of the mountain.When night fell they reached Sutton's great hall.

"Hello, my brother Sutton," said Bawuji, "this is Polfork, my summer laborer and friend." agreement. "So you see," he concluded, "I must ask you to give him a taste of the mead of poetry."

Su Tuen's eyes were as cold as ice. "No." He said flatly.

"No?" Bawuji asked.

"No. I will not give up that mead, not even a drop. Not a drop. I keep it safe in the Jar of Borden and Chanting, and the Jar of Audrey. These vessels are in the mountains Among the fnitborgs they can be opened only at my command. My daughter Gerold guards the mead. Your servants shall not taste it. Neither shall you."

"But," said Bawuji, "that's compensation for our parents' lives. Can't I get some? I have to maintain my dignity and show Polfolk that I'm a giant of my word!"

"No," said Sutton, "you can't."

They left his hall.

Bawuji was moody, with slumped shoulders and pursed mouth.Every few steps, Bawuji apologized to Polfolk. "I didn't expect my brother to be so unreasonable," he said.

"He's really unreasonable," said Odin's Polfolk, "but maybe I can teach him a lesson so he won't be so unreasonable in the future. So he can learn to listen His brother's words."

"That's a good idea," Bawuji said, straightening up a little, his lips no longer drooping, but straightened into a line that looked like he was even smiling, "How do we do this?"

"First," said Polfolk, "we climb up the closed spirit mountain, Nittberg."

Together they climbed the Fnitebog, the Giant in front and Polfolk in the rear.Although compared with giants, he is as small as a doll, but he never falls.They climbed up the trails that the goats had trodden, and up boulders, until they reached the high hills.The first snow of this winter has fallen on the snow that has not melted for many years.They heard the wind howling in the mountains.They heard birds chirping far below their feet.Beyond that, there is a voice.

It sounded like a human voice, as if it came from a boulder in the mountain, but it seemed far away, as if it came from the mountain itself.

"What's that sound?" Polfolk asked.

Bawuji frowned. "Sounds like my niece Grodd is singing."

"Then let's stop here."

Polfolk pulled out a drill called Lati from the leather pouch. "Come," he said, "you are a huge, powerful giant, and use this drill to get into the mountains."

Bawuji took the drill.He placed it on the side of the hill and started drilling.The point of the drill penetrates the rock like a soft cork.Bawuji drilled over and over again.

"It's over," said Bawuji.He pulls out the drill.

Polfolk walked to the drilled hole and blew into it.Stone chips and dust came at him. "I figured out two things," Polfolk said.

"What's the matter?" Bawuji asked.

"We haven't drilled through the mountain yet," Polfolk said. "You've got to keep drilling."

"That's just one thing," Bawuji said.But Polfolk didn't go on talking. He stood on the high mountain, the cold wind barking at him.Bawuji put the drill puller into the hole again and started drilling.

When it was getting dark, Bawuji pulled out the drill again. "It got into the mountain," he said.

Polfork didn't speak. He blew another breath into the hole, and this time he saw stone chips and dust flying in.

At this moment, he felt something coming from behind him.Polfolk immediately transformed: he transformed himself into a snake.At that moment, the sharp drill hit exactly where his head had been.

"When you lied to me, the second thing I figured out was that you would betray me," Snake said to Bawuji, who was standing aside with a look of disbelief.The giant held the drill in its hands as if it were a weapon.As soon as the snake flicked its tail, it disappeared into the cave that Bawuji drilled out.

Bawuji hit again with the drill, but the snake swam away.He threw the drill angrily, and it landed on the stone with a clattering sound.Bawuji thought about sending a message to Sutune, but then he would have to tell his brother that he had helped a mysterious and powerful magician go up Mount Fnetborg, and he had also helped him get into the mountain.He imagined Su Tuen's reaction when he heard the news.

Then Bawuji, shoulders drooping and mouth pursed, went down the mountain to his home.Whatever happened to his brother afterward, or what happened to his precious mead, was none of his business.

Polfolk slid into the cave in snake form until it reached the end, when he found himself in a cave.

The cave was illuminated by the cold light of the fluorescent ore.Odin returned to human form again, and this time he was not only human, but a huge man, a giant, and quite handsome.Then he followed the singing.

Sutton's daughter Gerold stood in front of the locked gate of the cave, behind which were hidden the jars of Chanting, Borden, and Audreyer.She stood there holding a sharp sword, singing softly.

"Nice to meet you, brave maiden!" said Odin.

Grod stared at him. "I don't know who you are," she said. "Stranger, state your name and tell me why I should let you live. I am Grod, the guardian of this place."

"I am Polfolk," said Odin, "and I deserve to die for having come so boldly. But wait a moment, and let me see you."

Grod said: "My father Suthurn made me watch here, to protect the mead of poetry."

Polfolk shrugged. "Why should I care for the mead of poetry? I have come here because I have heard of the beauty, courage, and virtue of Sutton's daughter Gerold. I said to myself 'If only I could see her, if she were As beautiful as the rumors say, it's worth dying'. That's what I thought."

Grod looked at the handsome giant in front of him. "So you think it's worth it, Polfolk the Dying?"

"It's worth it," he said to her. "You are more beautiful in person than any story I have ever heard. Your beauty is beyond poetry. No poem can describe it. You are more beautiful than mountains, more beautiful than glaciers. , more beautiful than fresh snow falling at dawn."

Grod glanced down unconsciously, his cheeks flushed red.

"Can I sit next to you?" Polfolk asked.

Grod nodded silently.

They sat together to share the food and wine she kept in the mountains.

After eating, they kissed each other in the dark.

After making out, Polfolk said sadly, "I wish I could have a sip of the mead from the Chanter. Then I could compose a poem about your eyes, a poem It is a poem that will be sung by all people in the future when they sing praises of beauty."

"Just one bite is enough?" she asked.

"It's a small bite, no one will notice," he said, "but I'm in no rush. You are the most important thing. Let me prove to you how much you mean to me."

He pulled her over.

They make love in the dark.After the cloud and rain, they hugged each other and kissed each other skin to skin.At this moment, Polfolk suddenly sighed sadly.

"What's wrong?" Grod asked.

"It's a pity I lack talent, otherwise I wish I had talent to sing about your full lips, how soft they are, and more alluring than any other woman's lips. I think it would be a poem if it could be poetry. Soulful poetry."

"It's really unfortunate," Grod said. "My lips are really attractive. I often think of them as my most beautiful part."

"Maybe, but you have so many perfections, it's so hard to decide which is the most beautiful. If I could just take a sip of mead from a jar called Borden, the rhyme of poetry would flow into my soul , I can write the most beautiful chapter for your lips, which will last forever, until the sun is swallowed by a giant wolf."

"Smallest sip, say it," she said. "Father will be furious if he thinks I give mead to every handsome boy who passes the castle on the hill."

They walked through the cave holding hands, kissing each other every now and then.Gerold showed Polfolk the doors and windows that opened from the inside of the mountain, through which Sutton brought her food.Polfolk didn't seem to pay the slightest attention to what she was saying, saying he wasn't interested in anything that had nothing to do with Grodd, he only cared about her eyes, lips, fingers, and hair.Grod laughed and said that he couldn't believe a word he said, and he must have lost interest in making out with her anymore.

He pressed his lips against hers, and made love to her again.

After having fun, Polfolk wept in the dark.

"What's the matter, dear?" Grod asked.

"Kill me," cried Polfolk, "kill me now! I can't praise your hair and skin, or the softness of your voice, or the touch of your fingertips. I can't express how beautiful Grod is."

"Well," she said, "it's probably not easy to write such a poem, but it's not impossible, I think."

"Maybe……"

"what?"

"Perhaps a sip of mead from the jug of Audrey will bestow upon me the art of rhetoric, and allow me to write a beautiful poem in praise of you, to be passed down from mouth to mouth, and to live forever," he suggested, crying The sound gradually became lighter.

"Yes, it might work. But you'll only have the tiniest sip..."

"Give me the jug, and I'll show you how small a sip I take."

Grod opened the door, and in a moment she and Polfolk were standing in front of the jug and two jugs.The scent of poetic mead fills the air.

"Just take a small sip," she emphasized, "in order to write those three poems that will last forever and praise me."

"Of course, my dear." Polfolk smiled in the dark.If she could see his expression at that time, she should know that things are not simple.

He drank every drop of Audrey's jug with the first sip.

In the second sip, he drained the jar of Borden.

In the third sip, he emptied the jar of recitation.

Grod is no fool.She immediately realized that she had been cheated.She struck him.The giantess was swift and powerful, but Odin did not rise to the challenge.He just ran away.He opened the door and locked her inside with his backhand.

In the blink of an eye, he transformed into a giant eagle.Odin flapped his wings and screamed, the mountain gate opened, and he flew into the sky.

Grodd's scream pierced the dawn.

Su Thun woke up and ran outside.He saw a giant eagle in the sky and immediately realized what was going on.Sutton also turned into an eagle.

The two eagles flew so high that seen from the ground they were but two impossibly small points in the sky.They fly so fast that the beating of their wings sounds like the roar of a hurricane.

At this moment, in Asgard, Thor said: "It is now."

He rolled three huge wooden barrels below the city wall.

The god of Asgard witnessed two eagles approaching through the sky, screaming, very close to each other.Su Thun flew very fast, closely following Odin.When they flew to Asgard, Su Thun's eagle's beak was almost attached to Odin's tail.

When flying to the main hall, Odin started spitting wine.Mead poured from his hawk's mouth like a fountain into the casks prepared in advance.One bucket after another, just like a father feeding a baby bird that is waiting to be fed.

So we know that since then, those who have mastered words and sentences, and those who can compose poems and poems must have tasted the mead of poetry.When we hear a beautiful and moving poem, we know that its author has tasted Odin's gift.

This is the story of the mead of poetry and how it was shared.This is a story of dishonesty, deceit, murder and treachery.But that's not the whole story, there's one more thing I haven't told you.Readers with delicate nerves can cover their ears here, or stop reading.

That last bit is a shame.When the All-Father, in eagle form, nearly flew to the cask in Asgard, Odin squirted some mead from behind as Suturne followed.A mead-filled fart headed Sutton's face, blinding the giant and never catching up to Odin.

No one, then or now, wants to drink the mead that spews from Odin's ass.But when you hear third-rate poets publish poetry with no poetry, stupid metaphors, and bad rhymes, you should know what kind of mead these people drink.

(End of this chapter)