| THE LAMENT OF THE LAST SURVIVOR | from "BEOWULF" ll.2247-66 |
| Anon. | trans. Louis J. Rodrigues (from Anglo-Saxon) |
|
............ ............ 'Heald þu nu, hruse, .... nu hæleð ne mostan, eorla æhte! .... Hwæt, hyt ær on ðe gode begeaton; .... gubdeab fomam, feorhbealo frecne .... fyra gehwylcne leoda minra .... þara ðe þis [lif] ofgeaf, gesawon seledream. .... Nah, hwa sweord wege oððe fe(o)r(mie) .... fæted wæge, dryncfæt deore; .... dug(uð) ellor s[c]eoc. Sceal se hearda helm .... (hyr)stedgolde, fætum befeallen;.... feormynd swefað, þa ðe beadogriman .... bywan sceoldon; ge swylce seo herepad, .... sio æt hilde gebad ofer borda gebræc .... bite irena, brosnað æfter beorne. .... Ne mæg byrnan hring æfter wigfruman .... wide feran, hæleðum be healfe. .... Næs hearpan wyn, gomen gleobeames, .... ne god hafoc geond sæl swingeð, .... ne se swifta mearh burhstede beateð. .... Bealocwealm hafað fela feorhcynna .... forð onsended!' ............ ............ |
............ ............ 'Hold thou now, earth, now heroes may not, the fortune of eorls! Lo, first from thee brave warriors won it; death in war, dread, deadly disaster, plundered my people; many a man abandoned this life who witnessed hall-joys. I have none to bear sword, to polish the plated cup, rich drinking-vessel; retainers vanish. Now shall hard helm of hammered gold be shorn of its plating, they sleep who should burnish the battle-masks. Likewise, the byrny, which bore in battle, mid shock of shields, the bite of blades, rots like its master. Nor may ringed hauberk fare far and wide upon its war-chieftain, alongside his heroes. Harp's joy is fled, sin ging wood's sound; no noble hawk sweeps through hall; no swift steed stamps in castle courtyard. Baleful death has banished hence many of mortal kind!' ............ ............ |
Copyright © Louis J. Rodrigues - publ. Llanerch Publishers