|
Ic
eom anhaga iserne wund,
|
|
I am the lone wood in the warp of battle,
|
|
|
bille gebennad, beadoweorca sæd,
|
|
Wounded by iron, broken by blade,
|
|
|
ecgum werig. Oft ic wig
seo,
|
|
Weary of war. Often I see
|
|
|
frecne feohtan. Frofre ne
wene,
|
|
Battle-rush, rage, fierce fight flaring--
|
|
|
þæt me geoc cyme
guðgewinnes,
|
5 |
I hold no hope for help to come
|
5 |
|
ær ic mid ældum eal
forwurðe,
|
|
Before I fall finally with warriors
|
|
|
ac mec hnossiað homera lafe,
|
|
Or feel the flame. The
hard hammer-leavings
|
|
|
heardecg heoroscearp, hondweorc
smiþa,
|
|
Strike me; the bright-edged, battle-sharp
|
|
|
bitað in burgum; ic abidan
sceal
|
|
Handiwork of smiths bites in battle.
|
|
|
laþran gemotes. Næfre
læcecynn
|
10 |
Always I must await the harder encounter
|
10 |
|
on folcstede findan meahte,
|
|
For I could never find in the world any
|
|
|
þara þe mid wyrtum
wunde gehælde,
|
|
Of the race of healers who heal hard wounds
|
|
|
ac me ecga dolg eacen weorðað
|
|
With roots and herbs. So
I suffer
|
|
|
þurh deaðslege dagum
ond nihtum.
|
|
Sword-slash and death-wound day and night.
|
|
iddle
3