|
Oft
ic sceal wiþ wæge winnan ond wiþ winde feohtan,
|
|
In battle I rage against wave and wind,
|
|
|
somod wið þam sæcce,
þonne ic secan gewite
|
|
Strive against storm, dive down seeking
|
|
|
eorþan yþum þeaht;
me biþ se eþel fremde.
|
|
A strange homeland, shrouded by the sea.
|
|
|
Ic
beom strong þæs gewinnes, gif ic stille weorþe;
|
|
In the grip of war, I am strong when still;
|
|
|
gif me þæs tosæleð,
hi beoð swiþran þonne ic,
|
5 |
In battle-rush, rolled and ripped
|
5 |
|
ond mec slitende sona flymað,
|
|
In flight. Conspiring wind
and wave
|
|
|
willað oþfergan þæt
ic friþian sceal.
|
|
Would steal my treasure, strip my hold,
|
|
|
Ic
him þæt forstonde, gif min steort þolað
|
|
But I seize glory with a guardian tail
|
|
|
ond mec stiþne wiþ
stanas moton
|
|
As the clutch of stones stands hard
|
|
|
fæste gehabban. Frige hwæt
ic hatte.
|
10 |
Against my strength. Can
you guess my name?
|
10 |
iddle
14
