The Word Exchange: Anglo-Saxon Poems in Translation is a treasure trove of Anglo-Saxon poems, riddles and maxims. The translations are splendid and makes these poems accessible to readers who are not (or not at all) well versed in Anglo-Saxon. The book is also presented beautifully, with mirror pages of Anglo-Saxon and contemporary English, making it possible for the reader to also see the poem in its original form. The editors of this magnificent volume is G. Delanty and M Matto, with the foreword by Seamus Heaney (whose Beowulf translation I fell in love with in high school).
As I quoted Widsith on Tuesday, I figured another piece of this poem would be perfect for Ageless Words on Friday. This is the last stanza of the poem, translated by Bernard O’Donoghue:
So the minstrels of men go wandering
by the dictates of fate through many lands.
They express what is needed and compose thanks.
Always, south or north, they find someone
with wise taste for poems, generous with gifts
who wants his name raised before the people,
to achieve valor, before everything fails,
light and life together. He earns their praise:
so under heaven gains exalted glory.
And the Anglo-Saxon:
Swa scriþende gescæpum hweorfað
gleomen gumena geond grunda fela,
þearfe secgað, þancword sprecaþ,
simle suð aþþe norð sumne gemetað
gydda gleawne, geofum unhneawne,
se þe fore duguþe wile dom aræran,
eorlscipe æfnan, oþþæt eal scæceð,
leoht ond lif somod; lof se gewyrceð,
hafað under heofonum heahfæstne dom.
No comments:
Post a Comment