“Now Odin strode through the shallows and gripped the gunwale. He climbed into the boat and stood over the body of his dead son. For some time he gazed at him. Slowly he took off his arm-ring Draupnir… and slipped it onto Baldur’s arm. Then Odin bent down and put his mouth to Baldur’s ear. Again he gazed at his son; then he left [the pyre].” —from The Norse Myths by Kevin Crossley-Holland
What did Odin whisper in the ear of his dead son?
As the story goes, the first person to ask this question was Odin himself, disguised as a wanderer, in a contest with the wise Vafthrudnir. When Odin posed this riddle, “Vafthrudnir looked long at his guest, and recognized him. He said in a low voice, ‘No one can tell what, long ago, you whispered in the ear of your son…I’ve pitted myself against Odin. You will always be wiser and wisest.’” (Crossley-Holland)
Apparently, no answer to the riddle was given in the Lay of Vafthrudnir, nor anywhere else in the sagas. Some suggest that Odin promised his son resurrection, since it was foretold that Baldur would rise again after Ragnarök. Others say it is impossible to know, and that mankind will be wondering until the end of time.
Odin Whispers…
I am the binder ‘n’ breaker;
I am the beginning and end.
On the edges of realms, I am—
A wanderer of the thresholds,
Far above into airlessness,
Far below into nothingness.
I am he that parts the waters;
I am the creator of nine worlds;
He that makes oaths and enforces,
He that separates and divides.
But, I am also the oath breaker,
The smith of lies and shape changer.
I am my brother and destroyer,
And he who shall be my savior.
I built a mighty throne to sit;
Yet, he will be who fells it.
My brother, who is closer than kin,
May be trickster and conniver;
Yet in the end, his bitterness
Shall be what finally prevails.
Yea, though he caused death to my son,
‘Tis no fault of his own doing.
I placed all things at the table,
Without a place for him to sit.
His heart never fully evil,
As is no one in my image.
T’was but twisted and delighted
In its power and cleverness.
So, how could I cast him out,
Any more than reject myself?
Thus, he became the erosion
That wore away at my stronghold.
As the dust falls at my own feet,
The fault can be but mine alone
When my son dies, as surely as
If my own hand were on the spear.
For, I was set to preserve
All the good in all the world;
Yet, I am destined to fail
To protect him from the evil.
For, t’is my “good” son that’s placed
On the pyre, by which I kneel,
Awaiting the final journey
On the ocean of tears save one.
I lay hand upon the gunwale
Prepared to send him to yonder,
At his side, for one last time,
I bend to whisper in his ear
My rune of frith and kinship,
A final wyrd of eternal love.
For, at last, when the sun rises
Beyond Ragnarök and renews,
There will be no breaking apart,
Nor a gathering together.
The waters will mix with fires;
The good will be turned to evil.
And below it a New World stands
With no walls between men ‘n’ gods.
The weave goes on as this one ends,
By the light of Baldur it be!
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