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Egil facing King Eirik

Arinbjorn and I went back to his home. On the way Arinbjorn suggested that the only way I could survive would be to make a verse that would prove to the king that I respected him and would serve him well.

“And not one of your regular verses” he added. “It must be a drapa, a verse that rhymes and eulogizes King Eirik.”

I stayed up all night writing my drapa to the king.

The next morning Arinbjorn presented me to the king and asked if I may speak first. He allowed me to and this is what I said.

EGILS PRAISE POEM Part 1

 

I took and deep breath and glanced a look at King Eirik to see if I was making any headway with his feelings towards me; and then I continued on:

EGILS PRAISE POEM Part 2

Now these words above may not be my exact words. That Snorri Sturluson fellow and all of the other fellows who have translated my words may have made a few errors. In fact, I am beginning to think that they may have taken some poetic liberties of their own and tried their hand at it. But who can blame them? It was a lot of work to translate Icelandic to English and still make it rhyme.

Yet they still remain my words and my intent to show King Eirik my repentance; and of course to save my own hide.

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