Old English Poems: Translated into the Original Meter Together with Short Selections from Old English Prose
General
Old English Poems: Translated into the Original Meter Together with Short Selections from Old English Prose
English poetry -- Old English, ca. 450-1100 -- Modernized versions
215 The time has now come for the test of your courage.
Now I make known my noble descent;
I come from Mercia, of mighty kinsmen;
My noble grandsire's name was Ealdhelm,
Wise in the ways of the world this elder.
220 Among my proud people no reproach shall be made
That in fear I fled afar from the battle,
To leave for home with my leader hewn down,
Broken in battle; that brings me most grief;
He was not only my earl but also my kinsman."
225 Then harboring hatred he hastened forth,
And with the point of spear he pierced and slew
A seaman grim who sank to the ground
Under weight of the weapon. To war he incited
His friends and fellows, in the fray to join.
230 Offa shouted; his ash-spear shook:
"Thou exhortest, O Aelfwine, in the hour of need,
When our lord is lying full low before us,
The earl on the earth; we all have a duty
That each one of us should urge on the rest
235 Of the warriors to war, while his weapons in hand
He may have and hold, his hard-wrought mace,
His dart and good sword. The deed of Godric,
The wicked son of Offa, has weakened us all;
Many of the men thought when he mounted the steed,
240 Rode on the proud palfry, that our prince led us forth;
Therefore on the field the folk were divided,
The shield-wall was shattered. May shame curse the man
Who deceived our folk and sent them in flight."
Leofsunu spoke and his linden-shield raised,
245 His board to defend him and embolden his fellows:
"I promise you now from this place I will never
Flee a foot-space, but forward will rush,
Where I vow to revenge my vanquished lord.
The stalwart warriors round Sturmere shall never
250 Taunt me and twit me for traitorous conduct,
That lordless I fled when my leader had fallen,
Ran from the war; rather may weapons,
The iron points slay me." Full ireful he went;
Fiercely he fought; flight he disdained.
255 Dunhere burst forth; his dart he brandished,
Over them all; the aged churl cried,
Called the brave ones to battle in Bryhtnoth's avenging:
"Let no hero now hesitate who hopes to avenge
His lord on the foemen, nor fear for his life."
260 Then forward they fared and feared not for their lives;
The clansman with courage the conflict began;
Grasped their spears grimly, to God made their prayer
That they might dearly repay the death of their lord,
And deal defeat to their dastardly foes.
265 A hostage took hold now and helped them with courage;
He came from Northumbria of a noble kindred,
The son of Ecglaf, Aescferth his name;
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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