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- Translated transcription: Quickly he approaches Vébjörg, fits his best arrow to the bowstring, draws his bow several times to test its strength, lets the arrow fly and – death flies from his bowstring. Vébjörg falls. - -
The rose that the shield-maiden never bore on her breast now flames blood red on her mail coat.
Shocked, the archer turns to look for the old man who told him to shoot, but the cloaked figure is nowhere to be seen.
The tumult of battle continues. Slaughter spreads over the huge battlefield. The clouds of arrows darken the sky and axes are swung flashing. As sword unceasingly meets sword, shields are cloven and thousands of brave men fall.
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