iddle 55 Ðeos lyft byreð     lytle wihte   The wind carries small creatures   ofer beorghleoþa     þa sind blace swiþe,   Over hill-slopes and headlands: dark   swearte salopade.     Sanges rope   Coated, black-bodied, bursting with song   heapum ferað,     hlude cirmað,   They chirm and clamor like a troop on wing,   tredað bearonæssas,     hwilum burgsalo 5 Winding their way to wooded cliff-walls, 5 niþþa bearna.      Nemnað hy sylfe.   Sometimes to the halls of men-singing a name-song.   solution