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Hals is min hwit ond
heafod fealo,
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I
am a warrior with a white throat.
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sidan swa some. Swift ic eom on feþe,
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My head and sides are tawny. Two ears
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beadowæpen bere. Me on bæce standað
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Tower above my eyes. My back and cheeks
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her swylce swe on hleorum.
Hlifiað tu
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Are furred. I bear battle-weapons.
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earan ofer eagum. Ordum ic steppe
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5 |
My gait is swift. I lope through green
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5 |
|
in grene græs. Me
bið gyrn witod,
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Grass on battle-toes. My song is sorrow
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gif mec onhæle an onfindeð
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If the slaughter-hound scents the narrow
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wælgrim wiga, þær ic wic buge,
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Hall where I lie hidden with a brood
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bold mid bearnum, ond ic bide þær
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Of children and we wait nestled in the curve
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mid geoguðcnosle. Hwonne
gæst cume
|
10 |
Of love while death snuffs at the door.
|
10 |
|
to durum minum, him biþ deað witod;
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|
The dog drags doom-so quick with terror
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forþon ic sceal of eðle eaforan mine
|
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I seize my children for a secret flight.
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forhtmod fergan, fleame nergan.
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If he bellies down, stalking in my chamber,
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Gif he me æfterweard
ealles weorþeð--
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I cannot choose to fight-that is fools'
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hine breost berað-- ic his bidan ne dear,
|
15 |
Counsel-I must tunnel a quick road
|
15 |
|
reþes on geruman-- (nele þæt ræd teale)--
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Through a steep hill, paw for the light,
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ac ic sceal fromlice feþemundum
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Rush mothered babes through the burrow
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þurh steapne beorg stræte wyrcan.
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Safely on secret streets out the hill-hole.
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Eaþe ic mæg freora feorh genergan,
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Brood-free I do not fear the hound's rush.
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gif ic mægburge mot mine gelædan
|
20 |
If the death-foe tracks the fierce mother
|
20 |
|
on degolne weg þurh duneþyrel
|
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Through side streets, he will find
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swæse ond gesibbe; ic me siþþan ne þearf
|
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A narrow road through Grimsgate and a hard
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wælhwelpes wig wiht onsittan.
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Meeting on hilltop as I turn battle-tooth
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gif se niðsceaþa nearwe stige
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And war-claw on the foe I once fled.
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me on swaþe seceþ, ne tosæleþ him
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25 |
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on þam gegnpaþe guþgemotes,
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siþþan ic þurh hylles hrof geræce,
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ond þurh hest hrino hildepilum
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laðgewinnum, þam þe ic longe fleah.
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iddle 13
