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Hovamol

72. A son is better,  though late he be born, And his father to death have fared;Memory-stones  seldom stand by the road Save when kinsman honors his kin.
73.[1] Two make a battle,  the tongue slays the head;In each furry coat  a fist I look for.
74.[1] He welcomes the night  whose fare is enough, (Short are the yards of a ship,) Uneasy are autumn nights;Full oft does the weather  change in a week, And more in a month's time.
75.[2] A man knows not,  if nothing he knows, That gold oft apes begets;One man is wealthy  and one is poor, Yet scorn for him none should know.
76.[3] Among Fitjung's sons  saw I well-stocked folds,— Now bear they the beggar's staff;
  1. ↑ 1.0 1.1 These seven lines are obviously a jumble. The two lines of stanza 73 not only appear out of place, but the verse-form is unlike that of the surrounding stanzas. In 74, the second line is clearly interpolated, and line 1 has little enough connection with lines 3, 4 and 5. It looks as though some compiler (or copyist) had inserted here various odds and ends for which he could find no better place.
  2. ↑ The word "gold" in line 2 is more or less conjectural, the manuscript being obscure. The reading in line 4 is also doubtful.
  3. ↑

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