Hail!

[hazelmemory]

I ween that I hung on the windy tree.
Hung there for nights full nine.
With the spear I was wounded and offered I was to Odin.
Myself to myself.
On the tree that none may ever know what root beneath it runs.
None made me happy with loaf or horn;
and there below I looked
I took up the runes - shrieking I took them
and forthwith back I fell.

-Havamol