For Teka Lynn
Hail Thor who fights fiercely
in defense of Ásgarðr’s walls,
master of Mjölnir with which you
stir the dark clouds until
there is a torrential downpour
and your hammer makes a calamitous boom
whenever it strikes the earth
like a fiery bolt falling from heaven.
You, Atli-Thor, even make the frightening Jötnar
and vile Trollkind quake as your thunderous step
announces that you are drawing near.
O Harðhugaðr, son of Óðinn who rides
in the storm with his Furious Host,
and Jörð who delights in crowns of flowers
and the kiss of Sunna upon her honey-gold shoulder;
from the sweet union of these two you sprang,
Vingþórr, you who preserve the World-Tree
and hallow wherever people gather
in your most holy name – Einriði, Véþormr
and Véurr or however else it pleases you
to be known, Thor whose ready laugh
is room-rattling and infectious.
Thor who is an expert archer,
and even better with a sword.
Thor who would do anything
to protect your dear daughter Þrúðr,
and though they are mighty and wrathful
as a pair of wolves in harsh winter,
you, Thor, worry too about your boys Magni
and Móði, though you’ll never admit it to them.
Hail Thor who purifies with fire,
consecrated salt, the Thurisaz Rune
and the sign of your hammer
made over the person, place or thing.
Thor, I pray, O friend of man, please hear me,
and stand at my side as I face down
the threats and obstacles that inevitably come
into a mortal life, Hlórriði.