1
The Seafarer
1.
I sing my own true story, tell my travels,
2.
How I have often suffered times of hardship
3.
In days of toil, and have experienced
4.
Bitter anxiety, my troubled home
5.
On many a ship has been the heaving waves,
6.
Where grim night-watch has often been my lot
7.
At the ship’s prow as it beat past the cliffs.
8.
Oppressed by cold my feet were bound by frost
9.
In icy bonds, while worries simmered hot
10.
About my heart, and hunger from within
11.
Tore the sea-weary spirit. He knows not,
12.
Who lives most easily on land, how I
13.
Have spent my winter on the ice-cold sea,
14.
Wretched and anxious, in the paths of exile,
15.
Lacking dear friends, hung round by icicles,
16.
While hail flew past in showers. There heard I nothing
17.
But the resounding sea, the ice-cold waves.
18.
Sometimes I made the song of the wild swan
19.
My pleasure, or the gannet’s call, the cries
20.
Of curlews for the missing mirth of men,
21.
The singing gull instead of mead in hall.
22.
Storms beat the rocky cliffs, and icy-winged
23.
The tern replied, the horn-beaked eagle shrieked.
24.
No patron had I there who might have soothed
25.
My desolate spirit. He can little know
26.
Who, proud and flushed with wine, has spent his time
27.
With all the joys of life among the cities,
28.
Safe from such fearful venturings, how I
29.
Have often suffered weary on the seas.
30.
Night shadows darkened, snow came from the north,
31.
Frost bound the earth and hail fell on the ground,
32.
Coldest of corns. And yet the heart’s desires
33.
Incite me now that I myself should go
The Seafarer (Exeter Book 10
th
/11
th
cent.)
Mæg ic be me sylfum soðgied wrecan,
siþas secgan, hu ic geswincdagum
earfoðhwile oft þrowade,
bitre breostceare gebiden hæbbe,
5 gecunnad in ceole cearselda fela,
atol yþa gewealc, þær mec oft bigeat
nearo nihtwaco æt nacan stefnan,
þonne he be clifum cnossað. Calde geþrungen
wæron mine fet, forste gebunden,
10 caldum clommum, þær þa ceare seofedun
hat ymb heortan; hungor innan slat
merewerges mod. þæt se mon ne wat
þe him on foldan fægrost limpeð,
hu ic earmcearig iscealdne sæ
15 winter wunade wræccan lastum,
winemægum bidroren,
bihongen hrimgicelum; hægl scurum fleag.
þær ic ne gehyrde butan hlimman sæ,
iscaldne wæg. Hwilum ylfete song
20 dyde ic me to gomene, ganetes hleoþor
ond huilpan sweg fore hleahtor wera,
mæw singende fore medodrince.
Stormas þær stanclifu beotan, þær him stearn oncwæð
isigfeþera; ful oft þæt earn bigeal,
25 urigfeþra; ne ænig hleomæga
feasceaftig ferð frefran meahte.
Forþon him gelyfeð lyt, se þe ah lifes wyn
gebiden in burgum, bealosiþa hwon,
wlonc ond wingal, hu ic werig oft
30 in brimlade bidan sceolde.
Nap nihtscua, norþan sniwde,
hrim hrusan bond, hægl feol on eorþan,
corna caldast. Forþon cnyssað nu
2
34.
On towering seas, among the salt waves’ play;
35.
And constantly the heartfelt wishes urge
36.
The spirit to venture, that I should go forth
37.
To sea the lands of strangers far away.
38.
Yet no man in the world’s so proud of heart,
39.
So generous of gifts, so bold in youth,
40.
In deeds so brave, or with so loyal lord,
41.
That he can ever venture on the sea
42.
Without great fears of what the Lord may bring.
43.
His mind dwells not on the harmonious harp,
44.
On ring-receiving, or the joy of woman,
45.
Or worldly hopes, or anything at all
46.
But the relentless rolling of the waves;
47.
But he who goes to sea must ever yearn.
48.
The groves bear blossom, cities grow more bright,
49.
The fields adorn themselves, the world speeds up;
50.
Yet all this urges forth the eager spirit
51.
Of him who then desires to travel far
52.
On the sea-paths. Likewise the cuckoo calls
53.
With boding voice, the harbinger of summer
54.
Offers but bitter sorrow in the breast.
55.
The man who’s blest with comfort does not know
56.
What some then suffer who most widely travel
57.
The paths of exile. Even now my heart
58.
Journeys beyond its confines, and my thoughts
59.
Over the sea, across the whale’s domain,
60.
Travel afar the regions of the earth,
61.
And then come back to me with greed and longing.
62.
The cuckoo cries, incites the eager breast
63.
On to the whale’s roads irresistibly,
64.
Over the wide expanses of the sea,
65.
Because the joys of God mean more to me
66.
Than this dead, transitory life on land.
67.
That earthly wealth lasts to eternity
68.
I don’t believe. Always one of three things
69.
Keeps all in doubt until one’s destined hour.
heortan geþohtas, þæt ic hean streamas,
35 sealtyþa gelac sylf cunnige;
monað modes lust mæla gehwylce
ferð to feran, þæt ic feor heonan
elþeodigra eard gesece.
Forþon nis þæs modwlonc mon ofer eorþan,
40 ne his gifena þæs god, ne in geoguþe to þæs hwæt,
ne in his dædum to þæs deor, ne him his dryhten to þæs hold,
þæt he a his sæfore sorge næbbe,
to hwon hine dryhten gedon wille.
Ne biþ him to hearpan hyge ne to hringþege,
45 ne to wife wyn ne to worulde hyht,
ne ymbe owiht elles, nefne ymb yða gewealc,
ac a hafað longunge se þe on lagu fundað.
Bearwas blostmum nimað, byrig fægriað,
wongas wlitigað, woruld onetteð;
50 ealle þa gemoniað modes fusne
sefan to siþe, þam þe swa þenceð
on flodwegas feor gewitan.
Swylce geac monað geomran reorde,
singeð sumeres weard, sorge beodeð
55 bitter in breosthord. þæt se beorn ne wat,
esteadig secg, hwæt þa sume dreogað
þe þa wræclastas widost lecgað.
Forþon nu min hyge hweorfeð ofer hreþerlocan,
min modsefa mid mereflode
60 ofer hwæles eþel hweorfeð wide,
eorþan sceatas, cymeð eft to me
gifre ond grædig, gielleð anfloga,
hweteð on hwælweg hreþer unwearnum
ofer holma gelagu. Forþon me hatran sind
65 dryhtnes dreamas þonne þis deade lif,
læne on londe. Ic gelyfe no
þæt him eorðwelan ece stondað.
Simle þreora sum þinga gehwylce,
ær his tid aga, to tweon weorþeð;
3
70.
Sickness, old age, the sword, each one of these
71.
May end the lives of doomed and transient men.
72.
Therefore for every warrior the best
73.
Memorial is the praise of living men
74.
After his death, that ere he must depart
75.
He shall have done good deeds on earth against
76.
The malice of his foes, and noble works
77.
Against the devil, that the sons of men
78.
May after praise him, and his glory live
79.
Forever with the angels in the splendour
80.
Of lasting life, in bliss among those hosts.
81.
The great old days have gone, and all the grandeur
82.
Of earth; there are not Caesars now or kings
83.
Or patrons such as once there used to be,
84.
Amongst whom were performed most glorious deeds,
85.
Who lived in worldliest renown. Gone now
86.
Is all that host, the splendours have departed.
87.
Weaker men live and occupy the world,
88.
Enjoy it but with care. Fame is brought low,
89.
Earthly nobility grows old, decays,
90.
As now throughout this world does every man.
91.
Age comes on him, his countenance grows pale,
92.
Grey-haired he mourns, and knows his former lords,
93.
The sons of princes, given to the earth.
94.
Nor when his life slips from him may his body
95.
Taste sweetness or feel pain or stir his hand
96.
Or use his mind to think. And though a brother
97.
May strew with gold his brother’s grave, and bury
98.
His corpse among the dead with heaps of treasure,
99.
Wishing them to go with him, yet can gold
100.
Bring no help to the soul that’s full of sins,
101.
Against God’s wrath, although he hide it here
102.
Ready before his death while yet he lives.
103.
Great is the might of God, by which earth moves;
104.
For He established its foundations firm,
105.
The land’s expanses, and the sky above.
70 adl oþþe yldo oþþe ecghete
fægum fromweardum feorh oðþringeð.
Forþon þæt bið eorla gehwam æftercweþendra
lof lifgendra lastworda betst,
þæt he gewyrce, ær he on weg scyle,
75 fremum on foldan wið feonda niþ,
deorum dædum deofle togeanes,
þæt hine ælda bearn æfter hergen,
ond his lof siþþan lifge mid englum
awa to ealdre, ecan lifes blæd,
80 dream mid dugeþum. Dagas sind gewitene,
ealle onmedlan eorþan rices;
næron nu cyningas ne caseras
ne goldgiefan swylce iu wæron,
þonne hi mæst mid him mærþa gefremedon
85 ond on dryhtlicestum dome lifdon.
Gedroren is þeos duguð eal, dreamas sind gewitene,
wuniað þa wacran ond þas woruld healdaþ,
brucað þurh bisgo. Blæd is gehnæged,
eorþan indryhto ealdað ond searað,
90 swa nu monna gehwylc geond middangeard.
Yldo him on fareð, onsyn blacað,
gomelfeax gnornað, wat his iuwine,
æþelinga bearn, eorþan forgiefene.
Ne mæg him þonne se flæschoma, þonne him þæt feorg losað,
95 ne swete forswelgan ne sar gefelan,
ne hond onhreran ne mid hyge þencan.
þeah þe græf wille golde stregan
broþor his geborenum, byrgan be deadum,
maþmum mislicum þæt hine mid wille,
100 ne mæg þære sawle þe biþ synna ful
gold to geoce for godes egsan,
þonne he hit ær hydeð þenden he her leofað.
Micel biþ se meotudes egsa, forþon hi seo molde oncyrreð;
se gestaþelade stiþe grundas,
105 eorþan sceatas ond uprodor.
4
106.
Foolish is he who does not fear his Lord,
107.
For death will come upon him unprepared.
108.
Blessed is he who humble lives; for grace
109.
Shall come to him from heaven. The Creator
110.
Shall make his spirit steadfast, for his faith
111.
Is in God’s might. Man must control himself
112.
With strength of mind, and firmly hold to that,
113.
True to his pledges, pure in all his ways.
114.
With moderation should each man behave
115.
In all his dealings with both friend and foe.
116.
No man will wish the friend he’s made to burn
117.
In fires of hell, or on an earthly pyre,
118.
Yet fate is mightier, the Lord’s ordaining
119.
More powerful than any man can know.
120.
Let us think where we have our real home,
121.
And then consider how we came thither;
122.
And let us labour also, so that we
123.
May pass into eternal blessedness,
124.
Where life belongs amid the love of God,
125.
Hope in the heavens. The Holy One be thanked
126.
That He has raised us up, the Prince of Glory,
127.
Lord without end, to all eternity. Amen.
Translated by Richard Hamer
from A Choice of Anglo-Saxon Verse, trans. and ed. by Richard Hamer,
(London: Faber and Faber, 1973)
Dol biþ se þe him his dryhten ne ondrædeþ; cymeð him se deað
unþinged.
Eadig bið se þe eaþmod leofaþ; cymeð him seo ar of heofonum,
meotod him þæt mod gestaþelað, forþon he in his meahte gelyfeð.
Stieran mon sceal strongum mode, ond þæt on staþelum healdan,
110 ond gewis werum, wisum clæne,
scyle monna gehwylc mid gemete healdan
wiþ leofne ond wið laþne bealo,
þeah þe he hine wille fyres fulne
oþþe on bæle forbærnedne
115 his geworhtne wine. Wyrd biþ swiþre,
meotud meahtigra þonne ænges monnes gehygd.
Uton we hycgan hwær we ham agen,
ond þonne geþencan hu we þider cumen,
ond we þonne eac tilien, þæt we to moten
120 in þa ecan eadignesse,
þær is lif gelong in lufan dryhtnes,
hyht in heofonum. þæs sy þam halgan þonc,
þæt he usic geweorþade, wuldres ealdor,
ece dryhten, in ealle tid.
125 Amen.