The Ruin In a Modern English Translation

THE RUIN an Old English poem about fate & destiny modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch well-hewn was this wall-stone, till Wyrdes wrecked it and the Colossus sagged inward... broad battlements broken; the Builders' work battered; the high ramparts toppled; tall towers collapsed; the great roof-beams shattered; gates groaning, agape... mortar mottled and marred by scarring hoar-frosts, the Giants’ dauntless strongholds decaying with age... shattered, the shieldwalls, the turrets in tatters... where now are those mighty Masons, those Wielders and Wrights, those Samson-like Stonesmiths? the grasp of the earth, the firm grip of the ground holds fast those fearless Fathers men might have forgotten except that this slow-rotting siege-wall still stands after countless generations! for always this edifice, grey-lichened, blood-stained, stands facing fierce storms with their wild-whipping winds because those master Builders bound its wall-base together so cunningly with iron! it outlasted mighty kings and their claims! how high rose those regal rooftops! how kingly their castle-keeps! how homely their homesteads! how boisterous their bath-houses and their merry mead-halls! how heavenward flew their high-flung pinnacles! how tremendous the tumult of those famous War-Wagers... till mighty Fate overturned it all, and with it, them. then the wide walls fell; then the bulwarks were broken; then the dark days of disease descended... as death swept the battlements of brave Brawlers; as their palaces became waste places; as ruin rained down on their grand Acropolis; as their great cities and castles collapsed while those who might have rebuilt them lay gelded in the ground: those marvelous Men, those mighty master Builders! therefore these once-decorous courts court decay; therefore these once-lofty gates gape open; therefore these roofs' curved arches lie stripped of their shingles; therefore these streets have sunk into ruin and corroded rubble... when in times past light-hearted Titans flushed with wine strode strutting in gleaming armor, adorned with splendid ladies’ favors, through this brilliant city of the audacious famous Builders to compete for bright treasure: gold, silver, amber, gemstones. here the cobblestoned courts clattered; here the streams gushed forth their abundant waters; here the baths steamed, hot at their fiery hearts; here this wondrous wall embraced it all, with its broad bosom. ...that was spacious...