46. So is it with him | whom thou hardly wilt trust,
And whose mind thou mayst not know;
Laugh with him mayst thou, | but speak not thy mind,
Like gifts to his shalt thou give.
47. Young was I once, | and wandered alone,
And nought of the road I knew;
Rich did I feel | when a comrade I found,
For man is man's delight.
48. The lives of the brave | and noble are best,
Sorrows they seldom feed;
But the coward fear | of all things feels,
And not gladly the niggard gives.
49. My garments once | in a field I gave
To a pair of carven poles;
Heroes they seemed | when clothes they had,
But the naked man is nought.
50. On the hillside drear | the fir-tree dies,
All bootless its needles and bark;
It is like a man | whom no one loves,--
Why should his life be long?
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46. Það er enn of þann er þú illa trúir
ok þér er grunr at hans geði,
hlæja skaltu við þeim ok um hug mæla;
glík skulu gjöld gjöfum.
47. Ungr var ek forðum, fór ek einn saman,
þá varð ek villr vega;
auðigr þóttumk, er ek annan fann,
maðr er manns gaman.
48. Mildir, fræknir menn bazt lifa,
sjaldan sút ala;
en ósnjallr maðr uggir hotvetna,
sýtir æ glöggr við gjöfum.
49. Váðir mínar gaf ek velli at
tveim trémönnum;
rekkar þat þóttusk, er þeir rift höfðu;
neiss er nökkviðr halr.
50. Hrörnar þöll, sú er stendr þorpi á,
hlýr-at henni börkr né barr;
svá er maðr, sá er manngi ann.
Hvat skal hann lengi lifa?
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