iddle 8 Neb wæs min on nearwe,     ond ic neoþan wætre,   I was locked in a narrow nest,   flode underflowen,      firgenstreamum   My beak bound below the water   swiþe besuncen,     ond on sunde awox   In a dark dive; the sea surged   ufan yþum þeaht,     anum getenge   Where my wings woke -- my body quickened   liþendum wuda      lice mine. 5 From the clutch of wave and wandering wood. 5 Hæfde feorh cwico,      þa ic of fæðmum cwom   Born black, streaked white, I rise   brimes ond beames      on blacum hrægle;   From the womb of waves on the wind's back,   sume wæron hwite      hyrste mine,   Sailing over seals' bath. Who am I?   þa mec lifgende      lyft upp ahof,       wind of wæge,     siþþan wide bær 10     ofer seolhbaþo.      Saga hwæt ic hatte.       solution