Hail to thee, Freyja, the Lady fair,
Goddess of love, beauty beyond compare.
Thou who rideth a chariot with felines twain,
Over Fólkvangr’s vast heavenly plain.
In thy possession, the necklace Brísingamen gleams,
A testament to desire and dreams.
Thou art accompanied by Hildisvíni, boar divine,
And beneath a cloak of falcon feathers, you shine.
Sacred to thee are the pigs of the earth,
Symbols of fertility and rebirth.
On a golden-bristled boar, thou dost ride,
In matters of love and sex, thou dost guide.
Thou rulest over half the warrior dead,
To Sessrúmnir, their heavenly stead.
The other half to Odin’s hall do go,
In Valhalla, where the brave may rest from woe.
Thou lendest thy feathered cloak to gods in need,
In fertility and love, thou dost lead.
Sought after by jötnar, powerful and grand,
Thou traversest the world for a husband lost, like grains of sand.
Thou weepst tears of gold, a sight to behold,
A goddess of war, bold and cold.
With seiðr thou dost weave the threads of fate,
Influencing the future, opening the gate.
Master of trance, thou dost journey far,
Traveling Ygdrassil, by light of star.
Chanting, drumming, secrets unveiled,
Through altered states, the hidden realms hailed.
Hail to thee, Freyja, of the Aesir kin,
Teaching witchcraft, a power from within.
In thee, we see love’s power and might,
Hail to thee, Freyja, goddess of the night.
