iamnotaparakeet wrote:
(nō hē þone ġifstōl grētan mōste,
māððum for metode, ne his myne wisse);
þæt wæs wræc miċel wine Sċyldinga,
mōdes brecða. Moniġoft gesāt
rīċe tō rūne; rǣd eahtedon,
hwæt swīðferhðum sēlest wǣre
wið fǣrgryrum tō ġefremmanne.
Hwīlum hīe ġehēton æt hærgtrafum
wiġweorðunga, wordum bædon,
þæt him gāstbona joce ġefremede
wið þēodþrēaum. Swylċ wæs þēaw hyra,
hæðenra hyht; helle ġemundon
in mōdsefan, metod hīe ne cūðon,
dæda dēmend, ne wiston hīe drihten god,
ne hīe hūru heofena helm hērian ne cūðon,
wuldres waldend. Wā bið þǣm þe sċal
þurh slīðne nīð sāwle besċûfan
in fȳres fæðm, frōfre ne wēnan,
wihte ġewendan; wel bið þǣm þe mōt
æfter dēaðdæġe drihten sēċan
and tō fæder fæðmum freoðo wilnian.
Can anyone tell me where this is from and what it says?
Sorry, I couldn't resist cleaning up the orthography...
It's from Bēowulf. The main problem with translating a passage like this is that it's a poem; no one ever spoke with this sort of phrasing, syntax, etc..
Here's a translation that I lifted from
here. Personally, I like the flow of the Old English version better.
and ne'er could the prince approach his throne,
-- 'twas judgment of God, -- or have joy in his hall.
Sore was the sorrow to Scyldings'-friend,
heart-rending misery. Many nobles
sat assembled, and searched out counsel
how it were best for bold-hearted men
against harassing terror to try their hand.
Whiles they vowed in their heathen fanes
altar-offerings, asked with words
that the slayer-of-souls would succor give them
for the pain of their people. Their practice this,
their heathen hope; 'twas Hell they thought of
in mood of their mind. Almighty they knew not,
Doomsman of Deeds and dreadful Lord,
nor Heaven's-Helmet heeded they ever,
Wielder-of-Wonder. -- Woe for that man
who in harm and hatred hales his soul
to fiery embraces; -- nor favor nor change
awaits he ever. But well for him
that after death-day may draw to his Lord,
and friendship find in the Father's arms!
13 Oct 2009, 6:19 pm
