Prof.
Michael D.C. DroutOn this page I have posted translations of some of the major Anglo-Saxon poems that, for reasons of space, had to be left out of the course guide for my Recorded Books course The Anglo-Saxon World.
I have also provided links so that you can hear the poems in Old English (Anglo-Saxon). If you would like to hear more Old English, you can go to anglosaxonaloud.com, where I post daily podcasts of Old English. If you would like to hear the poems read in both Old English and Modern English, with short introductory lectures (in Modern English), you can purchase Anglo-Saxon Aloud: Greatest Hits (a 2-CD set).
The only major poem that is not on Anglo-Saxon Aloud is Beowulf. If you would like to hear the entire poem in Old English plus an introductory lecture (in Modern English), you can purchase Beowulf Aloud (3-CD set).
My home page is http://michaeldrout.com and I post comments and discussion at http:wormtalk.blogspot.com
At the bottom of the page there are links to other material that may be of interest, including my free on-line grammar book for Old English (King Alfred's Grammar), and my books and other recorded courses.
I hope you enoy the poems and The Anglo-Saxon World.
Sincerely,
Michael D.C. Drout
(just ignore the dialogue box that pops up).
Lo! I wish to tell about the best of dreams,
which came to me in the middle-night
after all the speech-bearers were dwelling in rest.
It seemed to me that I saw the most beautiful tree
towering into the air
wound with light
the brightest of beams.
All that beacon was adorned with gold.
Gems stood out fair before the surfaces of the earth
there were five up on the shoulder-beam.
I saw there many troops of angels, created beautiful.
That was indeed not the gallows of a criminal.
Holy spirits gazed on it, men on earth and all this famous creation.
Beautiful was that victory-cross
and I was stained with sin,
wounded with evils.
I saw the tree of wonder adorned with coverings,
shining with joys,
decorated with gold.
Gems had perfectly covered the Ruler's tree.
However I was able to see, through that gold
the marks of harm done earlier by evil men.
So that it first began to bleed
on the right side.
I was troubled with sorrow
frightened by that fair vision.
I saw that shimmering beacon begin to change
in color and clothing:
at times it was stained with blood
drenched with the flow of blood
at times it was adorned with treasure.
But I lay there a long while, sorrowfully gazing on the Savior's cross
until I heard it call out.
That noble tree, the best wood, spoke these words:
It was years ago.
I still remember, that I was hewn down at the edge of a forest,
removed from my stem.
Strong enemies took me
made me, for themselves a spectacle
and forced me to raise up their criminals.
The warriors bore me on their shoulders
set me upon a hill.
Many enemies fixed me there.
Then I saw the Lord of mankind rush with great zeal
because he wished to mount up upon me.
I did not dare, against the word of the Lord,
to bow or burst,
though I saw the surfaces of the earth begin to shake.
I might have felled all of my enemies, but I stood fast.
Then
that young hero who was God Almighty
stripped himself
strong and firm-minded.
He mounted upon the loathsome gallows,
mighty in the sight of many,
when he chose to save mankind.
I trembled when the warrior embraced me,
but I did not dare to bow or fall to the surface of the earth.
I must stand fast.
I was a raised rood,
and I lifted the powerful king, the Lord of heaven.
I did not dare to fall.
They pierced me with dark nails:
the wounds are clear upon me,
open, malicious wounds.
But I did not dare to injure any of them.
They mocked us both together,
and I was all washed with blood that came from the man's side
after he sent up his spirit.
I abided many cruel things on that hill.
I saw the Lord of Hosts violently stretched out.
Darkness had covered things with clouds.
All creation wept and lamented the king's death.
Christ was on the Cross.
Nevertheless eagerly, from afar, came people to that prince.
I beheld all this.
I was sorely troubled with sorrows,
but I bowed down to the hands of those men,
humbled but with great strength.
They took from there Almighty God and raised him up
from his terrible torment.
The battle warriors left me to stand, covered in blood.
(I was deeply wounded by the sharp points).
They laid down the limb-weary man, and stood at his body's head.
There they beheld heaven's lord while he rested himself there,
exhausted by after the great battle.
Then, in the sight of me, the slayer,
they began to build a ground-cave;
they carved it from the bright stone and set there the Ruler of Victory.
Then they, wretched, sang a dirge
in the evening time
when they were prepared to depart, weary
from the glorious prince.
He stayed there with a small group.
We wept there for a long while, standing in place.
The corpse cooled, the fair spirit-house.
Then all of us fell to earth.
That was a terrible fate.
We were then buried in a deep pit.
But the Lord's thanes discovered that I was there
and adorned me with gold and silver."
"Now you may hear, my beloved man,
how I have experienced the work of the evil-doer,
the great suffering.
Now a time has come that people far and near,
men on earth and all this glorious creation,
will honor me and pray to this sign:
On me the Son of God suffered for a time,
therefore I now, glorious, rise up under heaven
and may heal every one who looks on me with awe.
I was once the hardest of tortures
and the most hateful to people,
before I opened a way of life for the speech-bearers.
Listen! The Lord of Glory, the heavenly Guardian,
honored me above all the trees of the forest
just as he, Almighty God, honored his mother Mary also above all women.
Now I command you, my beloved warrior,
to tell this vision to men,
make clear by your words
that it is the tree of glory
on which Almighty God endured for the sins of mankind
and for Adam's old deed.
Death he tasted there
nevertheless the Lord arose with his mighty power
to help men.
He then mounted into the heavens,
and from there later he will come back to earth,
the Almighty God,
the lord himself and all his angels,
to seek mankind on judgment day,
because he has the power
to judge each person on what he has earned in this fleeting life.
No one can escape fear
on account of the word which the Ruler said:
he will ask in front of the multitude
where there is a man who is willing to taste bitter death
as He once did upon the tree.
But they will be afraid,
and few will think what they shall say to Christ.
There is not, however, a need for those to be frightened
if they carry on their breast the noblest of signs,
but through the Cross
each soul on earth who wants to dwell with the Ruler
can seek the kingdom.
Then, in happy spirit,
I prayed to that cross with great zeal,
there where I was, alone with my small host.
My heart-spirit was impelled forth on the way
and had times of longing.
It is now the hope of my life
that I may seek the victory-beam more often than all men,
worship it well.
Desire to do this is great in my mind,
and my hope of protection is directed toward the Cross.
I do not have many powerful friends on earth,
but they have departed from here,
from the joys of the world,
sought the World's King
live now in heaven with the high father
dwell in glory.
I look forward each day to the time when the Lord's Cross
which I beheld on earth
will bring me from this fleeting life
and to that joy in heaven
where the Lord's folk are seated at the feast.
There bliss is perpetual.
And I look forward to the time
when afterwards I can dwell in glory
and partake of joy with the Saints.
May the Lord be a friend to me,
he who here on earth suffered previously on the gallows-tree for human sins.
He freed us
gave us life
a heavenly home.
Joy was renewed with joy and with bliss,
for those who once suffered the fire.
The Son was victorious on that expedition,
mighty and successful,
when he came with the multitude,
the company of souls,
into God's kingdom,
the Almighty Ruler, as a joy to the angels
and all those holy ones who had already dwelled in glory in the heavens,
when the Ruler came,
Almighty God,
to where his home was.
Often the exile waits for honor
the mercy of the Measurer,
even though he, heart-troubled,
has to row with his hands along the sea way,
across the rime-cold sea,
to follow the paths of exile.
Fate is fully determined.
So spoke the wanderer, remembering misery,
the deadly slaughter by enemies
the ruin of kin:
"Often I must lament my cares, every morning.
No one lives now
to whom I dare to open my heart,
to speak clearly.
In truth, I know, it is right
to keep the spirit locked in the breast,
hold close his thoughts
think what he wishes.
Nor may the weary-hearted withstand fate
nor the trouble thought help much.
So those who seek respect bind their sorrows fast in their chests.
I, wretched, far from my home
away from my kin
have fettered my heart ever since, long ago
my gold-friend was wrapped in the dark of the earth.
I, miserable, passed away, suffering
in the winter
over the waves.
Near and far I sought
the hall of a new treasure-giver,
a lord
who would love me
in return for my loyalty in the mead-hall
who would comfort me after my loss of friends
provide joys to me.
But grief is cruel company to the one without a protector.
The paths of exile consume you, not the twisted gold.
The frozen spirit house
not the life of the earth.
The exile remembers the hall-companions and the giving of gifts
how in his youth his gold-friend celebrated him at the feast.
Now all joy has come to an end
and he knows that he will
for a long time
be bereft of the counsel of his joy-lord.
Then sorrow and sleep all together bind the wretched wanderer.
It seems in his heart that he clasps and kisses his lord
laying his hands and his head on his knee
just as he had before been blessed at the gift-seat.
Then the friendless warrior wakes, sees before him
the bathing sea-birds
spreading their feathers
ice and snow
mingled with hail.
Then sorrow is renewed
and the wounds of the heart are harder to bear with the loss of the loved.
Memories of kin pass through the memory
of greeting friends with joy
watching them eagerly.
And away they swim from his mind
floating forth
the friends do not return familiar greetings.
Care returns to the wanderer who must
bind his weary spirit and drive himself over the waves.
I do not understand
why my heart does not darken more in this world
when I think on the lives of men
how quickly they leave the floor, the brave warriors.
So each of days on this middle-earth fails and falls.
A man cannot become wise unless he has many winters
and a wise man is patient, not hot-hearted or hasty in speech
not a weak warrior, not reckless, not too fearful or to faint-hearted
not too greedy or too boastful.
A warrior must remain firm when he speaks a vow
wait until he is sure his spirit is firm before he promises.
A wise man thinks ahead to when the wealth of world is in waste
just as now, through middle-earth
walls wait in the wind
rime-covered
storm-lashed.
The wine-hall falls
the ruler lies dead
his joy stolen
the proud troop dead by the wall.
War
took some one on an exile-journey
the hawk
took another over the high waves
the gray wolf
shared one in death
one was laid
in the grave
by his mourning friend
hidden in the earth.
The Shaper of Men blasted this earth
until the ancient works of giants stood empty
lacking the sounds of their people.
He who, wise in heart,
thinks on this old wall
considers this dark life
remembers many slaughters
may speak these words:
Where is the horse?
Where is the warrior?
Where is the giver of treasure?
Where is the place of feasting?
Where are the joys of the hall?
Alas for the bright cup!
Alas for the armored warrior!
Alas for the power
of the prince!
How the time has departed
passed under the shadow of night
as if it never was.
Stands at last, the relics of that beloved people,
a wall wondrously high
decorated with curves.
The power of ash-spears
weapons slaughter-greedy
took away many men
fate is known.
And the storms beat
on these stone cliffs
falling snow binds
the earth
the misery of winter
when darkness comes
the nightshadow spreads
sent from the north, hailstorms
to the terror of men.
All the kingdom of earth is full of suffering
the rule of fate changes the whole world
under the heavens.
Here is wealth fleeting.
Here is a friend fleeting.
Here is mankind is fleeting.
Here is kin fleeting.
All the foundation of the earth will become idle.
So spoke the wise man as he sat alone in thought.
Good is he who holds his troth.
A man must never speak too easily of his sorrow
unless he knows already the cure for it
has the power to change it.
It will be well for him who seeks the grace of the father in heaven,
where all that is eternal stands.
The wallstone is beautiful
but broken by fate.
The city is shattered
the old work of giants is falling.
The roofs are cracked
the towers broken,
high halls with rime on the stone
tiles scoured away
splintered
collapsed
ruined by age.
The earth-grave holds the powerful builders,
rotten and absent, in the cruel grip
of the ground
while a hundred generations of men passed
away.
Long has this wall,
red-stained and moss-covered,
lasted,
from one kingdom to another.
It stood in the storms, high and broad
but then it fell.
Yet some of the wall
built by men
still stands, crumbled, shattered.
The old structure,
cunningly created,
walls wound with wires.
The buildings were bright,
many houses, high, horn-gabled
above the sounds of the many men,
many a mead-hall filled with joy.
Then fate changed all that.
Men fell dead: plague and death
took them all, those great men
fell dead on the earth.
Their fortress fell to its
foundations,
the city crumbled.
Those who could fix it died,
men fell on earth. So the courtyards
decayed and
the tiles slid down from the high hall's roof.
The place is broken
to piles of stone, where once
happy men bright with gold,
adorned with treasures,
proud and filled with wine,
shone in their war gear.
They looked
upon silver
on gems
on wealth
on possessions
on precious stones
and on this bright city over the broad kingdom.
The stone walls stood high, and the stream flowed hot in wide channels.
The wall surrounded where the baths were in its bright enclosure.
That was clever, they let flow the hot streams over the gray stone until the round pool where the baths were.... That is a fitting thing, how that city...
I force out this song, tell about my sorrowing self.
I can tell what miseries, new and old,
I have endured since I grew up
never more than now.
Always I have suffered torment in my exile-paths.
First my lord departed away from his people,
over the play of the waves.
I had sorrow at dawn about where my lord was,
and so I went wandering,
to seek a following,
and my man's kin schemed secretly to separate us
so that we two must be miserably apart in the world.
And I longed for him.
Then my lord commanded me to dwell in this place.
I had few beloved friends here.
So my heart sorrows
when I found that my man was
unlucky,
miserable,
scheming,
plotting murder behind a pleasant face.
Many times we promised that nothing but death would come between us.
That is not true now;
it is as if everything before, our friendship,
had never been.
Now I must suffer, far and near, the hatred of my beloved.
They commanded me to dwell here,
in the dark wood,
under an oak-tree in an earth-cave.
This earth-hall is old, and I am swallowed by longing,
the dales are dim, the hills high, the bitter barrows now wrapped with thorns,
a place without joy.
Here often my lord's going made me miserable.
My friends, who I loved while they lived,
are now beneath the earth.
They lie while I must go on alone
under this oak tree,
near this earth-cave.
Here I sit the summer-long day.
Here I weep for my exile, my many hardships.
will not ever be able to rest from my mind-sorrow
nor from the longing that afflicts me in this life.
A young man will always remain sorrowing at heart
but also keep a blithe bearing,
even though he has misery in his breast, unstopping grief.
For him all the joys of the world are in himself,
but let him be exiled in a far land,
let my friend sit under a stone cliff,
rimed with storm,
my weak-minded friend,
wet with water in a dreary dwelling.
Then my friend will suffer great sorrow in mind.
He will often remember a more joyful place.
Woe will be to he who waits for love to come from longing.
It is as if my people have been given prey:
they will destroy him if he comes with a troop.
We are un-alike.
Wulf is on an island, I am on another
Fast is that island, wrapped by fens.
There are slaughter-hungry men on that island.
They will destroy him if he comes with a troop.
We are un-alike.
I have waited for the steps of my Wulf.
When it was rainy weather,
and I sat,
weeping,
when the warrior laid his arms
around me.
That was to me a joy,
and was to me also a horror.
Wulf, my Wulf,
it is my hopes for you that have made me sick,
and your seldom-coming,
and my mourning mind
not at all a lack of food.
Do you hear, Eadwacer?
Wulf will bear our whelp to the woods.
One may easily slit apart that which was never truly joined:
our song together.
A moth ate a word.
This seemed to me a marvelous fate,
when I heard of that wonder,
that the worm swallowed up the sayings of a man,
the thief in the dark seized his brilliant writings
and their strong foundation.
The stealing-guest was not a bit the wiser
even though he had swallowed those words.
Other Things of Interest
Books:
J.R.R. Tolkien's Beowulf and the Critics (New Edition is at the Publisher)
Tolkien Studies volumes 1-6
Other Recorded Books Courses:
Fantasy Literature
The History of the English Language
Grammar (this is actually a really fun course)
