The hanged man awaits
I know that I hung on that windy Tree
nine whole days and nights,
stabbed with a spear, offered to Odin,
myself to my own self given,
high on that Tree of which none have heard
from what roots it rises to heaven.
None refreshed me ever with food or drink,
I peered right down in the deep;
crying aloud I lifted the Runes,
then back I fell from there.
HÁVAMÁL 137-138
