The Wanderer, Part III, translation of the ancient Anglo-Saxon poem

The Wanderer, Part III The wise man contemplates these ruins, considers this dark life soberly, remembers the blood spilled here in multitudes of battles, then says: “Where is the horse now? Where, its riders? Where, the givers of gifts & treasure, the gold-friend? Where, the banquet-seats? Where, the mead-halls’ friendly uproars? Gone, the bright cup! Gone, the mailed warrior! Gone, the glory of princes! Time has slipped down the night-dome, as if it never were! Now all that remains is this wall, wondrous-high, decorated with strange serpentine shapes, these unreadable wormlike runes! The strength of spears defeated the earls, lances lusting for slaughter, for some glorious victory! Now storms rage against these rock-cliffs, as swirling snows & sleet entomb the earth, while wild winter howls its wrath as the pale night-shadow descends. The frigid north sends hailstones to harry warriors. Hardships & struggles beset the children of men. The shape of fate is twisted under the heavens as the Wyrdes decree. Life is on loan, wealth transitory, friendships fleeting, man himself fleeting, everything transitory, & earth’s entire foundation stands empty.” Thus spoke the wanderer, wise-hearted, as he sat apart in thought. Good is the man who keeps his word to the end. Nor should a man manifest his breast-pangs before he knows their cure, how to accomplish the remedy with courage. Keywords/Tags: Anglo-Saxon, translation, Old English, wanderer, wise, wisdom, ruins, runes, war, battles, time, travel, travail, wall, winter, ice, snow, sleet, storms, night, shadows, life, friendships, loss, lost, sorrow, dark