Beowulf 2231-2270: Lament of the Last Survivor (From Old English)

Lament of the Last Survivor 
(Beowulf 2231-2270)
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

　　There was such ancient wealth　in that earthen vault.

In an age long past,　with an end in his mind,

someone now nameless　had known to hide

his dear treasure　in the darkness here,

the heaped legacy　of a highborn race

at dynasty's end. 　Death already

had taken them all　in times gone by,

and left just this one:　the last warrior

of a fallen line　whose fate he mourned,

expecting the same.　This sad watchman

knew that ageless hoard　would be only his

to enjoy briefly.　The barrow stood

built and waiting 　by the breaking waves

crafted for safety,　set on the headland.

That keeper of rings　 then carried in

all the gold-plated 　goods he had there

worth protecting. 　His words were these few:

    "Hold now, O earth,　what heroes cannot:

Wealth of warriors.　It was worthy men

who delved it from you.　Death in battle

has mowed them down.　Mortal horror

has made away　with the mortal souls

of each of my clan　who have quit this life,

the hall-mirth of knights.　Nobody's here

to bear me a blade　or bring my cup's

burnished meadgold.　My band moved on.

The hard helmet　hasped in goldwork

must lose its hoop.　Helm-shiners sleep

that once burnished　my battle-mask. 

War-coats that braved　the biting steel

when shields burst wide　will be worn to bits

with their brave wearers.　The whorled hauberk

will wander no more　on the warchief's back

in a battle band. 　No more brilliant harp

with timbered tune,　no trained falcon

swooping the songhall,　no swift-hoof horse 

prancing the courtgrounds.　Plundering carnage

ousts whole peoples　out of existence."

   So he mourned who survived,　remembering hurts,

alone after them all,　aching and maundering

for days and nights 　till death seethed up

and beat his heart.

The Original:

　　　　　　þér wæs swelcrá feolá

in þǽm eorðselí　 ǽrġistréoná,

swé híæ on ġárdagum 　gumæná náthwelċ,

iorminláƀǽ 　æðilan cynnæs,

þanchycgændí　 þér gihýddǽ,

díorǽ máðmas. 　Allǽ híæ déaþ fornam

ǽrran mélum,　 ænd se án þá ġén

líodá duguðǽ 　se þér længist hwearƀ,

weard winiġómor, 　wéndǽ þæs ylcan,

þæt hé lýtil fæc 　langġistréoná

brúcan móstí.　 Berg allġearu 

wunudǽ on wangǽ, 　wæterýðum néh

níowi bi næssǽ 　nearucræftum fæst.

þér on innan bær 　eorlġistréoná

hringá hirdí,　 hordwiorðnǽ dǽl,

fǽttan goldæs,　 féa wordá cwæþ:

Hald þú nú, hrúsǽ,　nú hæliþ ni móstun,
eorlá ǽhti.　Hwæt hit ǽr on þé
gódǽ biġétun;　gúþdéaþ fornam,
ferhbealu frœ́cni　firhá ġihwelċnǽ,
líodá mínrá,　 þonǽ þe þis líƀ ofġæƀ,
secgá selidréamas.　Náh hwá sweord weġǽ
oþþǽ forþ berǽ　fǽtid wéġí,
drynċfæt díorí:　duguþ ellor sċóc.
Sċæl se heardá helm　hyrstidgoldǽ
fǽtum bifallæn:　feormiænd swefaþ,
þá þe beadugríman　bíowan sċoldun,
ġé swelċǽ sío heripád,　sío æt hildí ġibád
oƀær bordá ġibræc　bití íserná,
brosnaþ æftær beornǽ.　Ni mæġ byrnan hring
æftær wíġfruman　wídǽ fœ́ran,

hæliðum bi halƀǽ;　nis hearpan wyn,
gomæn glíwbéamæs,　ni gód heaƀuc
ġeond sæl swingiþ,　ni se swiftá mærh
burhstedi béatiþ.　Bealucwalm haƀaþ
feolá ferhcynná　forþ onsændid!

Swé ġómormód　ġehþu mǽndǽ

án æftær allum,　unblíþí hwearƀ

dæġæs ænd næhtæs,　oþþæt déaðæs wælm

hrán æt heortan