At the bottom of the milky sea the beautiful skilled alfs were forging in the bright caves of mighty mountains; from the
golden-brown dew, which they filtered from the milky ocean again, they created golden arrows, and from the froth of the waves they manufactured silvery-white bows.
These weapons they handed over to the giants, who drew up in battle-array on the waves of the milk-ocean, and who shot the self-illuminating arrows against the celestial cloud-cows that were driven near, to milk them.

As the silvery clouds were hit, they lit up bright and golden, pouring their nectar into the great beaker of the faster and faster turning milk-ocean; and the thirsty whirlpool noisily quaffed the down-pouring potion and drew it into its unfathomable depths.