CONTENTS
The battle of Maldon
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Author: Anonymous (10th cent.)
Year: n.a.
Byrhtwold maželode, bord hafenode
se węs ealde geneat ęsc acwehte;
he ful baldlice beornas lęrde:
"Hige sceal že heardra, heorte že cenre,
mod sceal že mare, že ure męgen lytlaš.
Her liš ure ealdor eall forheawen,
god on greote. A męg gnornian
se še nu fram žis wigplegan wendan ženceš.
Ic eom frod feores. Fram ic ne wille,
ac ic me be healfe minum hlaforde,
be swa leofan men licgan žence."
Byrhtwold spoke, an old warrior.
He lifted his shield, brandished his spear.
Boldly he exhorted the fighters:
"Harder will be our temper, braver our hearts,
higher our spirits, as our strength lessens.
Here lies our leader, all cut to pieces,
the good man on the ground. Who now thinks
to leave this war-play, may he for ever rue it.
I am old in years. I will not go from here,
but will rather lie slain beside my beloved lord."
Tr. R.J.
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