The Seafarer
March 21, 2016 – 11:08 pmFrom the Exeter Book (Exeter Cathedral Library MS 3501). The OE text is presented as in Mitchell & Robinson (2012) A Guide to Old English (8th edn) Wiley-Blackwell:UK pp. 284-290. They note several emendations of the OE text, but none are of great significance. As usual in that text, ? and ? in the MS are replaced here by standard English letters, but ð, þ, and æ are retained. Length is not marked. This is, of course, not translation; it is just a reading assistant.
Mæg ic be me sylfum soðgied wrecan,
I can about my self a lay of truth make,
siþas secgan, hu ic geswincdagum
To tell (of) (my) experiences, how I in days of hardship
earfoðhwile oft þrowade,
A time of troubles often suffered,
bitre breostceare gebiden hæbbe,
Bitter grief of the heart I have endured,
5 gecunnad in ceole cearselda fela,
I experienced aboard ship many a house of care,
atol yþa gewealc, þær mec oft bigeat
A terrible rolling of waves, there I often took
nearo nihtwaco æt nacan stefnan,
The anxious night-watch at the ship’s prow,
þonne he be clifum cnossað. Calde geþrungen
When it tossed beside cliffs. By the cold constricted
wæron mine fet, forste gebunden,
Were my feet, by frost held fast,
10 caldum clommum, þær þa ceare seofedun
By cold fetters, where the cares sighed
hat’ymb heortan; hungor innan slat
Hot about the heart; hunger rent from within
merewerges mod. þæt se mon ne wat
The soul of the sea-weary. That the man knows not
þe him on foldan fægrost limpeð,
[Who to him = To whom] on land (things) happen most pleasantly,
hu ic earmcearig iscealdne sæ
How I the wretched and ice-cold sea
15 winter wunade wræccan lastum,
(In) Winter I dwelt [wandered?] (on) the paths of an exile,
winemægum bidroren,
Of beloved kinsmen bereft,
bihongen hrimgicelum; hægl scurum fleag.
Hung about with icicles; hail flew in storms.
þær ic ne gehyrde butan hlimman sæ,
There I heard nothing but the roaring sea,
iscaldne wæg. Hwilum ylfete song
The ice-cold wave. [Sometimes = Whilom] the song of the wild swans
20 dyde ic me to gomene, ganetes hleoþor
I made to be my amusement, the sound of a gannet
ond huilpan sweg fore hleahtor wera,
And the call of a curlew for the laughter of men,
mæw singende fore medodrince.
The singing seagull for a mead-drink.
Stormas þær stanclifu beotan, þær him stearn oncwæð
Storms there beat the stone cliffs, there the icy-feathered tern
isigfeþera; ful oft þæt earn bigeal,
answered them; full oft the eagle shrieked about,
25 urigfeþra; ne ænig hleomæga
The dewy-feathered one; [none of the = no] care-taking kinsmen
feasceaftig ferð frefran meahte.
Could comfort the wretched spirit.
Forþon him gelyfeð lyt, se þe ah lifes wyn
Indeed he little believes, who has the joy of life
gebiden in burgum, bealosiþa hwon,
Experienced in cities, and few bitter experiences,
wlonc ond wingal, hu ic werig oft
Splendid and wine-bright, how I often weary
30 in brimlade bidan sceolde.
On the seaway must remain.
Nap nihtscua, norþan sniwde,
The night shadows grew dark, it snowed from the north
hrim hrusan bond, hægl feol on eorþan,
Frost bound the ground, hail fell on earth,
corna caldast. Forþon cnyssað nu
Coldest of kernels. Indeed, now they batter (me),
heortan geþohtas þæt ic hean streamas,
The thoughts of (my) heart, that I, myself, the high seas,
35 sealtyþa gelac sylf cunnige –
The rolling of ocean waves, should seek out —
monað modes lust mæla gehwylce
The desire of the soul urges, every time
ferð to feran, þæt ic feor heonan
To go far forth, (so) that I, far from here,
elþeodigra eard gesece —
The land of the foreign should seek —
Forþon nis þæs modwlonc mon ofer eorþan,
Indeed, there is not ?such? proud spirit, (in any other) man in the world
40 ne his gifena þæs god, ne in geoguþe to þæs hwæt,
Nor his gifts so good, nor in youth so active,
ne in his dædum to þæs deor, ne him his dryhten to þæs hold,
Nor in his deeds so brave, nor one to whom his Lord was so gracious,
þæt he a his sæfore sorge næbbe,
That he on his sea voyage had no worry,
to hwon hine Dryhten gedon wille.
About what his Lord will do.
Ne biþ him to hearpan hyge ne to hringþege
Nor is there to him a mind for harping, nor for ring presents,
45 ne to wife wyn ne to worulde hyht
Nor for the joy of a woman, nor for the bliss of the world,
ne ymbe owiht elles nefne ymb yða gewealc;
Nor about owt else except about the tossing of the waves;
ac a hafað longunge se þe on lagu fundað.
But always he has a longing, he who sets out on the wide sea.
Bearwas blostmum nimað, byrig fægriað,
Groves take blossoms, cities become fair,
wongas wlitigað, woruld onetteð:
The fields grow beautiful, the world hastens on:
50 ealle þa gemoniað modes fusne
All these urge the eager of spirit,
sefan to siþe þam þe swa þenceð
The heart to travel, those who so think
on flodwegas feor gewitan.
On the flood-ways far to ?travel?.
Swylce geac monað geomran reorde,
Thus the cuckoo urges with sad voice,
singeð sumeres weard, sorge beodeð
Summer’s guardian sings, announces sadness
55 bitter in breosthord. þæt se beorn ne wat,
Bitter in the breast-hoard. That the man does not know,
sefteadig secg, hwæt þa sume dreogað
The man blessed with comfort, what those suffer
þe þa wræclastas widost lecgað.
Who lay the furthest path of exile.
Forþon nu min hyge hweorfeð ofer hreþerlocan,
And yet now my spirit roams beyond the heart-place,
min modsefa mid mereflode
My heart with the sea-tide
60 ofer hwæles eþel hweorfeð wide,
Above the whales’ kingdom turns far and wide,
eorþan sceatas, cymeð eft to me
the surface of the earth, comes again to me
gifre ond grædig, gielleð anfloga,
ravenous and greedy, the lone flier yells out,
hweteð on hwælweg hreþer unwearnum
incites to the whale-way the heart irresistibly
ofer holma gelagu. Forþon me hatran sind
above the expanse of seas. Indeed to me hotter are
65 dryhtnes dreamas þonne þis deade lif,
the joys of the Lord than this dead life,
læne on londe. Ic gelyfe no
fleeting on earth. I believe not at all
þæt him eorðwelan ece stondað.
that worldly riches stand everlasting for him.
Simle þreora sum þinga gehwylce,
Always some (one) of three invariably,
ær his tiddege, to tweon weorþeð;
before the end of his days, arises as an uncertainty;
70 adl oþþe yldo oþþe ecghete
Sickness or old age or violence
fægum fromweardum feorh oðþringeð.
From the doomed man about to die deprives of life.
Forþon bið eorla gehwam æftercweþendra
Indeed, for a nobleman from each of the after-speakers
lof lifgendra lastworda betst,
praise of the living of an enduring reputation is best,
þæt he gewyrce, ær he on weg scyle,
which he accomplishes, before he must depart,
75 fremum on foldan wið feonda niþ,
By good deeds on earth with enemies’ hatred,
deorum dædum deofle togeanes,
By brave deeds against the devil,
þæt hine ælda bearn æfter hergen,
That the children of men later praise,
ond his lof siþþan lifge mid englum
and his praise later/thenceforth should live among the Angels
awa to ealdre, ecan lifes blæd,
Always until eternity, to the eternal glory of life
80 dream mid dugeþum. Dagas sind gewitene,
Joy amongst the heavenly host. The days are gone,
ealle onmedlan eorþan rices;
(and) all the magnificence of the earthly kingdom;
nearon nu cyningas ne caseras
there are not now kings nor emperors
ne goldgiefan swylce iu wæron,
nor gold-givers as once there were,
þonne hi mæst mid him mærþa gefremedon
[when they performed the greatest of glorious deeds among themselves]
85 ond on dryhtlicestum dome lifdon.
and in most lordly glory lived.
Gedroren is þeos duguð eal, dreamas sind gewitene;
Perished is all this host, their revels are ended;
wuniað þa wacran ond þæs woruld healdaþ,
the weaker ones now inhabit and hold this world,
brucað þurh bisgo. Blæd is gehnæged,
living by toil. Glory is humbled,
eorþan indryhto ealdað ond searað,
the nobility of the world grows old and withers,
90 swa nu monna gehwylc geond middangeard.
so (is it) now for men throughout Middle-Earth.
Yldo him on fareþ, onsyn blacað,
Old age overtakes him, his face grows pale,
gomelfeax gnornað, wat his iuwine,
the greybeard grieves, he knows his friends of old,
æþelinga bearn, eorþan forgiefene.
the sons of nobles are given to the earth.
Ne mæg him þonne se flæschoma þonne him þæt feorg losað
And his flesh-cover when that life leaves him, cannot
95 ne swete forswelgan ne sar gefelan
taste sweetness or feel pain
ne hond onhreran ne mid hyge þencan.
or use a hand or think with his heart.
Þeah þe græf wille golde stregan
Though the grave he would strew with gold
broþor his geborenum, byrgan be deadum
his natural born brother, (would) bury with the dead man
maþmum mislicum, þæt hine mid wille,
various treasures, that he wants with him,
100 ne mæg þære sawle þe biþ synna ful
nor can, for the soul that is full of sin,
gold to geoce for Godes egsan,
gold be a help before the terror of God,
þonne he hit ær hydeð þenden he her leofað.
when he previously hid it while he lived here.
Micel biþ se Meotudes egsa, forþon hi seo molde oncyrreð;
Very great is the awe of the creator, [before which the earth turns aside;]
se gestaþelade stiþe grundas,
He established the solid grounds,
105 eorþan sceatas ond uprodor.
The regions of the earth and the heaven above.
Dol biþ se þe him his Dryhten ne ondrædeþ: cymeð him se deað unþinged.
Foolish is he who dreads not his Lord: death comes to him unlooked for.
Eadig bið se þe eaþmod leofaþ; cymeð him seo ar of heofonum.
Blessed is he who lives humbly; for he shall have the favour of heaven.
Meotod him þæt mod gestaþelað, forþon he in his meahte gelyfeð.
The Creator makes firm that spirit in him, because he trusts in His power.
Stieran mon sceal strongum mode, ond þæt on staþelum healdan,
A man should control (his) strong spirit, and hold it in check,
110 ond gewis werum, wisum clæne.
And (be) unfailing (in) pledges, (and) pure (in) actions.
Scyle monna gehwylc mid gemete healdan
Each man ought to keep in proper measure
lufan wiþ leofne ond wið laþne bealo.
(His) love for loved ones and enmity towards the foe.
þeah þe he hine wille fyres fulne …
although he wishes him full of fire …
oþþe on bæle forbærnedne
Or burned up on a funeral pyre
115 his geworhtne wine, Wyrd biþ swiþre,
[The friend he has made], fate is more powerful,
Meotud meahtigra, þonne ænges monnes gehygd.
God is mightier, than the thought of any man.
Uton we hycgan hwær we ham agen,
Let us think where we have our home,
ond þonne geþencan hu we þider cumen;
And then consider how we (may) return thither;
ond we þonne eac tilien þæt we to moten
And then we (should) each strive that we may (go) there
120 in þa ecan eadignesse
In that eternal blessedness
þær is lif gelong in lufan Dryhtnes,
Where life is dependent on the love of God,
hyht in heofonum. Þæs sy þam Halgan þonc
(and) bliss in heaven. So let there be thanks to God
þæt he usic geweorþade, wuldres Ealdor
That He honoured us, the Prince of glory
ece Dryhten, in ealle tid.
The Lord eternal, for all time.
Amen.
Amen.