Mæg ic be me sylfum soðgied wrecan, I can make a true song about me myself, siþas secgan, hu ic geswincdagum tell my travels, how I often endured earfoðhwile oft þrowade, days of struggle, troublesome times, bitre breostceare gebiden hæbbe, [how I] have suffered grim sorrow at heart, gecunnad in ceole cearselda fela, have known in the ship many worries [abodes of care], atol yþa gewealc, þær mec oft bigeat the terrible tossing of the waves, where the anxious night watch nearo nihtwaco æt nacan stefnan, often took me at the ship's prow, þonne he be clifum cnossað. Calde geþrungen when it tossed near the cliffs. Fettered by cold wæron mine fet, forste gebunden were my feet, bound by frost caldum clommum, þær þa ceare seofedun in cold clasps, where then cares seethed hat ymb heortan; hungor innan slat hot about my heart a hunger tears from within merewerges mod. Þæt se mon ne wat the sea-weary soul. This the man does not know þe him on fold fægrost limpeð, for whom on land it turns out most favourably, hu ic earmcearig iscealdne sæ how I, wretched and sorrowful, on the ice-cold sea winter wunade wræccan lastum, dwelt for a winter in the paths of exile, winemægum bidroren, bereft of friendly kinsmen, bihongen hrimgicelum; hægl scurum fleag. hung about with icicles; hail flew in showers. þær ic ne gehyrde butan hlimman sæ, There I heard nothing but the roaring sea, iscaldne wæg. Hwilum ylfete song the ice-cold wave. At times the swan's song dyde ic me to gomene, ganotes hleoþor I took to myself as pleasure, the gannet's noise ond huilpan sweg fore hleahtor wera, and the voice of the curlew instead of the laughter of men, mæw singende fore medodrince. the singing gull instead of the drinking of mead. Stormas þær stanclifu beotan, þær him stearn oncwæð, Storms there beat the stony cliffs, where the tern spoke, isigfeþera; ful oft þæt earn bigeal, icy-feathered; always the eagle cried at it, urigfeþra; nænig hleomæga dewy-feathered; no cheerful kinsmen feasceaftig ferð frefran meahte. can comfort the poor soul. Forþon him gelyfeð lyt, se þe ah lifes wyn Indeed he credits it little, the one who has the joys of life, gebiden in burgum, bealosiþa hwon, dwells in the city, far from terrible journey, wlonc ond wingal, hu ic werig oft proud and wanton with wine, how I, weary, often in brimlade bidan sceolde. have had to endure in the sea-paths. Nap nihtscua, norþan sniwde, The shadows of night darkened, it snowed from the north, hrim hrusan bond, hægl feol on eorþan, frost bound the ground, hail fell on the earth, corna caldast. Forþon cnyssað nu coldest of grains. Indeed, now they are troubled, heortan geþohtas þæt ic hean streamas, the thoughts of my heart, that I myself should strive with sealtyþa gelac sylf cunnige the high streams, the tossing of salt waves -- monað modes lust mæla gehwylce he wish of my heart urges all the time ferð to feran, þæt ic feor heonan my spirit to go forth, that I, far from here, elþeodigra eard gesece should seek the homeland of a foreign people -- Forþon nis þæs modwlonc mon ofer eorþan, Indeed there is not so proud-spirited a man in the world, ne his gifena þæs god, ne in geoguþe to þæs hwæt, nor so generous of gifts, nor so bold in his youth, ne in his dædum to þæs deor, ne him his dryhten to þæs hold, nor so brave in his deeds, nor so dear to his lord, þæt he a his sæfore sorge næbbe, that he never in his seafaring has a worry, to hwon hine Dryhten gedon wille. as to what his Lord will do to him. Ne biþ him to hearpan huge ne to hringþege Not for him is the sound of the harp nor the giving of rings ne to wife wyn ne to worulde hyht nor pleasure in woman nor worldly glory -- ne ymbe owiht elles nefne ymb yða gewealc; nor anything at all unless the tossing of waves; ac a hafað longunge se þe on lagu fundað. but he always has a longing, he who strives on the waves. Bearwas blostmum nimað, byrig fægriað, Groves take on blossoms, the cities grow fair, wongas wlitigað, woruld onetteð: the fields are comely, he world seems new: ealle þa gemoniað modes fusne all these things urge on the eager of spirit, sefan to siþe þam þe swa þenceð the mind to travel, in one who so thinks on flodwegas feor gewitan. to travel far on the paths of the sea. Swylce geac monað geomran reorde; So the cuckoo warns with a sad voice; singeð sumeres weard, sorge beodeð the guardian of summer sings, bodes a sorrow bitter in breosthord. Þæt se beorn ne wat, grievous in the soul. This the man does not know, sefteadig secg, hwæt þa sume dreogað the warrior lucky in worldly things what some endure then, þe þa wræclastas widost lecgað. those who tread most widely the paths of exile. Forþon nu min hyge hweorfeð ofer hreþerlocan, And now my spirit twists out of my breast, min modsefa mid mereflode, my spirit out in the waterways, ofer hwæles eþel hweorfeð wide, over the whale's path it soars widely eorþan sceatas cymeð eft to me through all the corners of the world -- it comes back to me gifre ond grædig; gielleð anfloga, eager and unsated; the lone-flier screams, hweteð on hwælweg hreþer unwearnum urges onto the whale-road the unresisting heart ofer holma gelagu. Forþon me hatran sind across the waves of the sea. Indeed hotter for me are Dryhtnes dreamas þonne þis deade lif the joys of the Lord than this dead life læne on londe. Ic gelyfe no fleeting on the land. I do not believe þæt him eorðwelan ece stondað. that the riches of the world will stand forever. Simle þreora sum þinga gehwylce Always and invariably, one of three things ær his tiddege to tweon weorþeð: will turn to uncertainty before his fated hour: adl oþþe yldo oþþe ecghete disease, or old age, or the sword's hatred fægum fromweardum feorh oðþringeð. will tear out the life from those doomed to die. Forþon biþ eorla gehwam æftercweþendra And so it is for each man the praise of the living, lof lifgendra lastworda betst, of those who speak afterwards, that is the best epitaph, þæt he gewyrce, ær he on weg scyle, that he should work before he must be gone fremum on foldan wið feonda niþ, bravery in the world against the enmity of devils, deorum dædum deofle togeanes, daring deeds against the fiend, þæt hine ælda bearn æfter hergen, so that the sons of men will praise him afterwards, ond his lof siþþan lifge mid englum and his fame afterwards will live with the angels awa to ealdre, ecan lifes blæd, for ever and ever, the glory of eternal life, dream mid dugeþum. joy with the Hosts. Dagas sind gewitene, The days are gone ealle onmedlan eorþan rices; of all the glory of the kingdoms of the earth; nearon nu cyningas ne caseras there are not now kings, nor Cæsars, ne goldgiefan swylce iu wæron, nor givers of gold as once there were, þonne hi mæst mid him mærþa gefremedon when they, the greatest, among themselves performed valorous deeds, ond on dryhtlicestum dome lifdon. and with a most lordly majesty lived. Gedroren is þeos duguð eal, dreamas sind gewitene; All that old guard is gone and the revels are over -- wuniað þa wacran ond þæs woruld healdaþ, the weaker ones now dwell and hold the world, brucað þurh bisgo. Blæd is gehnæged, enjoy it through their sweat.— The glory is fled, eorþan indryhto ealdað ond searað, the nobility of the world ages and grows sere, swa nu monna gehwylc geond middangeard. as now does every man throughout the world. Yldo him on fareþ, onsyn blacað, Age comes upon him, his face grows pale, gomelfeax gnornað, wat his iuwine, the graybeard laments; he knows that his old friends, æþelinga bearn eorþan forgiefene. the sons of princes, have been given to the earth. Ne mæg him þonne se flæschoma þonne him þæt feorg losað His body fails then, as life leaves him -- ne swete forswelgan ne sar gefelan he cannot taste sweetness nor feel pain, ne hond onhreran ne mid hyge þencan. nor move his hand nor think with his head. Þeah þe græf wille golde stregan Though he would strew the grave with gold, broþor his geborenum, byrgan be deadum a brother for his kinsman, bury with the dead maþmum mislicum, þæt hine mid wille, a mass of treasure, it just won't work -- ne mæg þære sale þe biþ synna ful nor can the soul which is full of sin gold to geoce for Godes egsan, preserve the gold before the fear of God, þonne he hit ær hideo þenden he her leofað. though he hid it before while he was yet alive. Micel biþ se Meotudes egsa, for þon hi seo molde oncyrreð; Great is the fear of the Lord, before which the world stands still; se gestaþelade stiþe grundas, He established the firm foundations, eorþan scēatas ond uprodor. the corners of the world and the high heavens. Dol biþ se þe him his Dryhten ne ondrædeþ: cymeð him se deað unþinged. A fool is the one who does not fear his Lord: death comes to him unprepared. Eadig bið se þe eaþmod leofaþ; cymeð him seo ar of heofonum. Blessed is he who lives humbly to him comes forgiveness from heaven. Meotod him þæt mod gestaþelað, forþon he in his meahte gelyfeð. God set that spirit within him, because he believed in His might. Stieran mon sceal strongum mode, ond þæt on staþelum healdan, Man must control his passions and keep everything in balance, ond gewis werum, wisum clæne keep faith with men, and be pure in wisdom. Scyle monna gehwylc mid gemete healdan Each of men must be even-handed wiþ leofne ond wið laþne * * * bealo. — ? with their friends and their foes. þeah þe he hine wille fyres fulne ? though he does not wish him? in the foulness of flames oþþe on bale forbærnedne ?or on a pyre ? to be burned his geworhtne wine, Wyrd biþ swiþre, ? his contrived friend, Fate is greater Meotud meahtigra, þonne ænges monnes gehygd. and God is mightier than any man's thought. Uton we hycgan hwær we ham agen, Let us ponder where we have our homes ond þonne geþencan hu we þider cumen; and then think how we should get thither -- ond we þonne eac tilien þæt we to moten and then we should all strive that we might go there in þa ecan eadignesse to the eternal blessedness þær is lif gelong. in lufan Dryhtnes, that is a belonging life in the love of the Lord, hyht in heofonum. Þæs sy þam Halgan þonc joy in the heavens. Let there be thanks to God þæt he usic geweorþade, wuldres Ealdor. that he adored us, the Father of Glory, ece Dryhten, in ealle tid. the Eternal Lord, for all time. Amen.