The speaker is on the move, and the poem reads like a short inventory of what that means. They say goodbye to an old axe, as if it were a companion rather than a tool, then buy a piece of salmon "for the sun." That last detail is odd and a little playful. It sounds like an offering, as though the sun were a creature that needs feeding, or a god to be thanked before a journey.
The promise that follows is larger and more solemn: to give everything they have "to the brave." The poem doesn't say who the brave are, so the line stays open and slightly mysterious. Then the tone drops back to something quiet and plain. The speaker says they are "not discontented" with their sleep, a careful, understated phrase that suggests a settled calm rather than great joy.
The mood is gentle and ritual-like. Letting go of old things, making small offerings, and accepting rest all combine into a feeling of peaceful readiness.