Beowulf in Parallel Texts. Sung-Il Lee
the foamy waves,
Nor would I slack off to fall behind him far.
So we two together were on the sea
For five nights, till dashing flood drove us apart, 545
The surging sea-waves, the coldest of weathers,
Darkening night and the north wind
Battle-grim blew on us; fierce were the waves.
Anger was aroused in the sea creatures.
There my mail-shirt, hard-locked by hand, 550
Performed protection of me against the predators:
The woven war-wear, embellished with gold,
Lay on my breast. A fiendish foe full of hatred
Fiercely pulled me to the floor of the sea,
Grim in its grip; however, it happened to be granted me 555
That I attacked the atrocious demon with my dagger,
My battle-sword; the blast of a bloody duel destroyed
The mighty monster of the deep, thanks to my hand.
(IX) So often loathsome creatures perpetrated
Persecution on me pressingly. I paid back to them 560
With my fine sword, insomuch as fit it was.
They by no means had the pleasure of feasting,
These rapacious ravagers, of ravenously devouring me,
Sitting around a round table, near the seafloor.
But in the morning, wounded by my mace, 565
They floated up along the foamy shore,
Slaughtered by my sword, that since then never
ymb brontne ford brimliðende
lade ne letton. Leoht eastan com,
beorht beacen Godes; brimu swaþredon, 570
þæt ic sænæssas geseon mihte,
windige weallas. Wyrd oft nereð
unfægne eorl, þonne his ellen deah.
Hwæþere me gesælde, þæt ic mid sweorde ofsloh
niceras nigene. No ic on niht gefrægn 575
under heofones hwealf heardran feohtan,
ne on egstreamum earmran mannon;
hwaþere ic fara feng feore gedigde,
siþes werig. Đa mec sæ oþbær,
flod æfter faroðe on Finna land, 580
wadu weallendu. No ic wiht fram þe
swylcra searoniða secgan hyrde,
billa brogan. Breca næfre git
æt heaðolace, ne gehwæþer incer,
swa deorlice dæd gefremede 585
fagum sweordum —no ic þæs [fela]* gylpe—,
þeah ðu þinum broðrum to banan wurde,
heafodmægum; þæs þu in helle scealt
werhðo dreogan, þeah þin wit duge.
Secge ic þe to soðe, sunu Ecglafes, 590
þæt næfre Grendel swa fela gryra gefremede,
atol æglæca, ealdre þinum,
hynðo on Heorote, gif þin hige wære,
sefa swa searogrim, swa þu self talast;
ac he hafað onfunden, þæt he þa fæhðe ne þearf, 595
atole ecgþræce eower leode
swiðe onsittan, Sige-Scyldinga;
They prevented the sea-faring men from their passage
Over the soaring sea-waves. Light came from the east,
God’s bright beacon; the surging waves subsided, 570
That I could see the headlands with
The wind-blown walls. Fate often spares a man
Not yet doomed to die, when his daring deserves it!
Anyhow it was my lot that with my sword I slew
Nine nether-water monsters; I have not heard of 575
A fiercer fight at night beneath the heaven’s vault,
Nor of a man put in more miserable state in the sea.
However, I delivered myself from the demons’ grip,
Weary of war. Then the sea carried me off,
The flood with its flow onto the land of the Finns, 580
The surging swells did. No such thing about you
Have I heard say of, so severe sword-slashing,
Such brutal butchering; Breca never yet
In the games of battle, nor either of the two of you,
Has done so daring a deed with shining swords— 585
Nor do I boast of it much—
Though you became the killer of your own brothers,
Your close kinsmen; for that you will in hell
Endure damnation, though your brain may be bright.
I tell you truly, son of Ecglaf, 590
That Grendel, that fearful ferocious foe, would never
Have inflicted so many infamous injuries on your lord,
Humiliation on Heorot, had your heart,
Your fervor, been as fierce as you deign to declare.
But he has found out that he need not much fear 595
Any angry retaliation, repercussion of swishing swords,
From your people, the Scyldings destined for victory.
nymeð nydbade, nænegum arað
leode Deniga, ac he lust wigeð,
swefeð ond sendeþ, secce ne weneþ 600
to Gar-Denum. Ac ic him Geata sceal
eafoð ond ellen ungeara nu,
guþe gebeodan. Gæþ eft se þe mot
to medo modig, siþþan morgenleoht
ofer ylda bearn oþres dogores, 605
sunne sweglwered suþan scineð.”
Þa wæs on salum sinces brytta,
gamolfeax ond guðrof; geoce gelyfde
brego Beorht-Dena, gehyrde on Beowulfe
folces hyrde fæstrædne geþoht. 610
Đær wæs hæleþa hleahtor, hlyn swynsode,
word wæron wynsume. Eode Wealhþeow forð,
cwen Hroðgares, cynna gemyndig,
grette goldhroden guman on healle,
ond þa freolic wif ful gesealde 615
ærest East-Dena eþelwearde,
bæd hine bliðne æt þære beorþege,
leodum leofne; he on lust geþeah
symbel ond seleful, sigerof kyning.
Ymbeode þa ides Helminga 620
duguþe ond geogoþe dæl æghwylcne,
sincfato