11 March 2012

Fourth Chunk of Fitt XXXV, and a Small Request

Writing, for many people, including me, keeps the writer and the audience pretty separate. I know how many hits this site gets in a day, but I don't know who comes, why, or what they think of the translation so far. I'd appreciate it if you take a moment during your visit to let me know something about yourself and your thoughts on this project. It needn't be much, but it would be appreciated.


Then he let his rage rise from his lungs,
a word went out from the Weder lord,
the staunch-heart stormed. A strident call
rang out against the grey pale rocks.
Hatred was raised. The hoard's guard knew
the voice of a man. No moment was left
to try for a truce. The tunnel released
breath from the beast, burning vapour
out of the stone. The earth thundered.

The knight swung shield, beneath the tomb,
to the loathesome guest, the Geats' leader.
Then, coiled and hooped, its heart compelled it
to search out a fight. He drew his sword,
an ancient heirloom, the excellent war-king,
rash with edges, and each of the pair
of opposing foes feared the other.
With stern spirit he stood with his steep-bossed shield,
first among friends, as the firedrake coiled,
winding in haste. He waited in harness.

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