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Makbeþ Kunungr

Ek heiti kunungr.

Ek heiti brandrinn.

Ek veg kununginn.

Ulfrinn etr brandinn.

Ulfrinn hefr brandinn ok.

Á ulfrinn mik.

Em eigi maðr ek.

Draugarnir teka mik.

(This is a hopelessly terrible poem about Macbeth that I tried, for some reason, to write in old Norse. The good thing is that unless you’re Icelandic you most likely have absolutely no idea what the hell it says. So ha.)

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