þeodcyninga, || þrym gefrunon,
hu ða æþelingas || ellen fremedon.
Oft Scyld Scefing || sceaþena þreatum,
monegum mægþum, || meodosetla ofteah,
egsode eorlas. || Syððan ærest wearð
feasceaft funden, || he þæs frofre gebad,
weox under wolcnum, || weorðmyndum þah,
oðþæt him æghwylc || þara ymbsittendra
ofer hronrade || hyran scolde,
gomban gyldan. || þæt wæs god cyning.
Behold! We spear-Danes in days of yore,
the king of a whole nation a multitude asked,
how then nobleman zeal vigorous.
Often Scyld Scefing force of injury,
many clans, mead-seats taken away,
terrify earls. As soon as the miserable set out
he thence made a pledge to console,
to grow under the sky, with honor received,
until him each/every there neighbor
over the whale-road should listen
a tribute rewarded. That was a good king.
Translated by yours truly! Much love to these few lines, and despite my mantra of "Keep Calm and Carry On" throughout the semester, I really enjoyed the Anglo-Saxon, though perhaps not the hundreds of lines of translation. :]
~Hammeh
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