The Husband’s Message
[Text of the poem in the original Anglo-Saxon]
Nu ic onsundran þe secgan wille
. . . . . . treocyn ic tudre aweox;
in mec æld . . . sceal ellor londes
settan . . . . . . sealte streamas
. . . sse. Ful oft ic on bates
. . . . . . gesohte
þær mec mondryhten min . . . . . .
ofer heah hofu; eom nu her cumen
on ceolþele, ond nu cunnan scealt
. . . . . . gesohte
þær mec mondryhten min . . . . . .
ofer heah hofu; eom nu her cumen
on ceolþele, ond nu cunnan scealt
hu
þu ymb modlufan mines frean
on hyge hycge. Ic gehatan dear
þæt þu þær tirfæste treowe findest.
Hwæt, þec þonne biddan het se þisne beam agrof
þæt þu sinchroden sylf gemunde
on hyge hycge. Ic gehatan dear
þæt þu þær tirfæste treowe findest.
Hwæt, þec þonne biddan het se þisne beam agrof
þæt þu sinchroden sylf gemunde
on
gewitlocan wordbeotunga,
þe git on ærdagum oft gespræcon,
þenden git moston on meoduburgum
eard weardigan, an lond bugan,
freondscype fremman. Hine fæhþo adraf
þe git on ærdagum oft gespræcon,
þenden git moston on meoduburgum
eard weardigan, an lond bugan,
freondscype fremman. Hine fæhþo adraf
of
sigeþeode; heht nu sylfa þe
lustum læran, þæt þu lagu drefde,
siþþan þu gehyrde on hliþes oran
galan geomorne geac on bearwe.
Ne læt þu þec siþþan siþes getwæfan,
lustum læran, þæt þu lagu drefde,
siþþan þu gehyrde on hliþes oran
galan geomorne geac on bearwe.
Ne læt þu þec siþþan siþes getwæfan,
lade
gelettan lifgendne monn.
Ongin mere secan, mæwes eþel,
onsite sænacan, þæt þu suð heonan
ofer merelade monnan findest,
þær se þeoden is þin on wenum.
Ongin mere secan, mæwes eþel,
onsite sænacan, þæt þu suð heonan
ofer merelade monnan findest,
þær se þeoden is þin on wenum.
Ne
mæg him worulde willa gelimpan
mara on gemyndum, þæs þe he me sægde,
þonne inc geunne alwaldend god
. . . . . . ætsomne siþþan motan
secgum ond gesiþum s . . .
mara on gemyndum, þæs þe he me sægde,
þonne inc geunne alwaldend god
. . . . . . ætsomne siþþan motan
secgum ond gesiþum s . . .
næglede
beagas; he genoh hafað
fædan goldes
. . . d elþeode eþel healde,
fægre foldan
. . . ra hæleþa, þeah þe her min wine . . .
nyde gebæded, nacan ut aþrong,
fædan goldes
. . . d elþeode eþel healde,
fægre foldan
. . . ra hæleþa, þeah þe her min wine . . .
nyde gebæded, nacan ut aþrong,
ond on yþa geong . . . . . . sceolde
faran on flotweg, forðsiþes georn,
mengan merestreamas. Nu se mon hafað
wean oferwunnen; nis him wilna gad,
faran on flotweg, forðsiþes georn,
mengan merestreamas. Nu se mon hafað
wean oferwunnen; nis him wilna gad,
ne
meara ne maðma ne meododreama,
ænges ofer eorþan eorlgestreona,
þeodnes dohtor, gif he þin beneah
ofer eald gebeot incer twega.
Gecyre ic ætsomne ᛋ ᚱ geador
ænges ofer eorþan eorlgestreona,
þeodnes dohtor, gif he þin beneah
ofer eald gebeot incer twega.
Gecyre ic ætsomne ᛋ ᚱ geador
ᛠ ᚹ ond ᛞ aþe benemnan,
þæt he þa wære ond þa winetreowe
be him lifgendum læstan wolde,
þe git on ærdagum oft gespræconn.
þæt he þa wære ond þa winetreowe
be him lifgendum læstan wolde,
þe git on ærdagum oft gespræconn.
[Modern English translation by Michael Schmidt]
To
you far away I carry this message
I
remain true to the tree I was hacked from
Wood
I am, bearing the marks of a man
Letters
and runes the words of his heart
I
come from afar borne on salt currents
Hiss . . . in a hull I sought and I sought you
Where
would I find you my lord despatched me
Over
fathomless seas I’ve come, here I am
Do
you think of him still my lord in your dear heart
Do
you recall him or is your mind bare
He
remains true to you true and with fixed desire
You
try his faith you’ll find it stands firm
But
hear me now, read what is scratched on my surface
You,
cherished treasure, dear you in your youthful
Your
hidden heart, dear remember your vows
Your
heart and his heart when together you haunted
The
lovely hamlets the mead hall, the promise
To
perform your love
Well, all of that ended
In
feud and in flight he was forced from that place
Now
he has sent me to ask you come to me
Cross
the seas, come to me come here with joy
When
to your listening on the steep hillside
First
comes the cuckoo’s voice sad in the trees
Don’t
pause don’t linger come at that calling
Don’t
stay or delay come at that call
Go
down to the shore set out to sea then
To
the tern’s chilly home go south go south
Over
the ragged sea south find your lord
Come
to him, there he waits for you wedded
To
your sure arrival no other wish
But
only the wish of you You’re in his mind
Almighty
God’s there his power rebind you
One
to the other again as you were
Able
to rule then able to raise up
Your
people, comrades and endow you with jewels
Bracelets
and carcanets collars and combs
He
has set aside for you fair gold, bright gemstones
In
a land far away among foreign folk
A
handsome mansion hectares and cattle
Faithful
retainers
though when he set out
Pursued
and a pauper he pointed his prow
Out
to the sea alone set out sailing
Lost
in his exile yet eager to go
Weaving
the currents time in his veins
Now
truly that man has passed beyond pain
He
has all he wants has horses, has treasure
The
great hall’s warm welcome gifts the earth yields
Princess,
Princess you too are his portion
Remember
the promises each of you vowed
The
sealing silences he made and you made
A letter, a syllable nothing is lost
What seem erasures are kisses and praying
Are runes that keep counsel a promise in touch
A promise in looking how
staunch he has stayed to you
Above
him the heavens the earth under foot
A
man of his word he is true to your contract
The
twining of wills in those days gone in time
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