human
No more daughters will I give you, Nor my daughter will I give you, That she wash the soot from off you, And she scratch the soot from off you, Sooner would I give my daughter, And would give my tender daughter, 60 To the fiercely-foaming cataract, To the ever-seething whirlpool, As a prey to worms of Mana, To the teeth of pike of Tuoni.
gpt
Come thou now with me, O maiden, In the station of thy sister, And to occupy her dwelling, Cakes of honey there to bake me, And the best of ale to brew me.