|
Ic
þurh muþ sprece mongum reordum,
|
|
I am a mimic with many tongues,
|
|
|
wrencum singe, wrixle geneahhe
|
|
Warbling tunes, shifting tones,
|
|
|
heafodwoþe, hlude cirme,
|
|
jugging the city with head-song.
|
|
|
healde mine wisan, hleoþre
ne miþe.
|
|
Old night-singer, song-shaper,
|
|
|
Eald
æfensceop, eorlum bringe
|
5 |
Pleasure-poet -- I keep
a clear calling,
|
5 |
|
blisse in burgum, þonne
ic bugendre
|
|
Wind melody for men. These
sit
|
|
|
stefne styrme; stille on wicum
|
|
Bowed in quiet in the curve of song.
|
|
|
sittað nigende. Saga
hwæt ic hatte,
|
|
Say who I am who sing like a minstrel
|
|
|
þe swa scirenige sceawendwisa
|
10 |
Soft clamor of court and mime the world
|
|
|
wilcumena fela woþe minre.
|
|
In harlequin play, boding bright welcome.
|
10 |
iddle
6
