Beowulf in Parallel Texts. Sung-Il Lee
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The origin of mankind from far back, asserted
That the Almighty created the earth,
The beautiful plain surrounded by streams,
Established the triumphant sun and moon,
The luminaries to lighten the land-dwellers, 95
And adorned the regions of the earth
With branches and leaves, and also created life
For each of the races, which move about alive.
Thus the retainers lived in mirth,
Happily, till a certain fiend of hell 100
Began to perpetrate an act of atrocity.
The grim demon was called Grendel,
A notorious borderland haunter, he who held the moors
As fen and stronghold. The unhappy creature
Warded the region of the race of monsters awhile, 105
Since the Creator had him condemned
As Cain’s kin—then the Eternal Lord
Punished the killing, in which he slew Abel.
Cain did not rejoice at the feud, but the Lord banished him far;
The Lord, for the crime, drove him away from mankind. 110
From him arose all the evil brood,
Giants and elves and evil spirits—
The very giants who contended against God
For a long time; the Lord gave them proper requital for that.
(II) Then Grendel departed to seek out, when night came, 115
The tall house—to see how the Ring-Danes
Had settled in it after their beer drinking.
Then he found therein a band of retainers
swefan æfter symble; sorge ne cuðon,
wonsceaft wera. Wiht unhælo, 120
grim ond grædig, gearo sona wæs,
reoc ond reþe, ond on ræste genam
þritig þegna; þanon eft gewat
huðe hremig to ham faran,
mid þære wælfylle wica neosan. 125
Đa wæs on uhtan mid ærdæge
Grendles guðcræft gumum undyrne;
þa wæs æfter wiste wop up ahafen,
micel morgensweg. Mære þeoden,
æþeling ærgod, unbliðe sæt, 130
þolode ðryðswyð, þegnsorge dreah,
syðþan hie þæs laðan last sceawedon,
wergan gastes; wæs þæt gewin to strang,
lað ond longsum. Næs hit lengra fyrst,
ac ymb ane niht eft gefremede 135
morðbeala mare ond no mearn fore,
fæhðe ond fyrene; wæs to fæst on þam.
Þa wæs eaðfynde þe him elles hwær
gerumlicor ræste sohte,
bed æfter burum, ða him gebeacnod wæs, 140
gesægd soðlice sweotolan tacne
healðegnes hete; heold hyne syðþan
fyr ond fæstor se þæm feonde ætwand.
Swa rixode ond wið rihte wan,
ana wið eallum, oð þæt idel stod 145
husa selest. Wæs seo hwil micel;
twelf wintra tid torn geþolode
wine Scyldinga, weana gehwelcne,
Fast asleep after a banquet. They did not know sorrow,
What men could suffer from; the unhallowed creature, 120
Grim and greedy, was more than ready,
Fierce and furious, and from their resting place took
Thirty thanes; thence he departed to go
Back to his home, exulting in his booty—
Content with his fill of slaughter, toward his abode. 125
Then at dawn with the break of day
Grendel’s strength was manifest to men.
Following a feast, weeping rose up,
A great cry in the morning; the renowned lord,
The good prince, sat joyless; 130
The mighty monarch suffered sorrow for the thanes,
When they beheld the track of the hateful one,
The evil monster; that ordeal was too strong,
Loathsome and long lasting! It was not long after,
But on the very next night again he perpetrated 135
A greater grisly deed, feeling no remorse for it,
A hostile and wicked crime; he was intent on them.
Then many a one sought resting place
Elsewhere at more distance for himself,
Bed among outbuildings, when the hostility of 140
The one who had ransacked the hall was shown to him,
Made clear by manifest token; he who had fled from the fiend
Remained farther away, and more secure afterwards.
So he held sway and strove against right,
One against all, till the best of houses 145
Came to stand empty. It lasted for a great while.
The friendly lord of the Danes suffered affliction
For the length of twelve winters, every woe,
sidra sorga; forðam [secgum]* wearð,
ylda bearnum, undyrne cuð, 150
gyddum geomore, þætte Grendel wan
hwile wið Hroþgar, heteniðas wæg,
fyrene ond fæhðe fela missera,
singale sæce, sibbe ne wolde
wið manna hwone mægenes Deniga, 155
feorhbealo feorran, fea þingian,
ne þær nænig witena wenan þorfte
beorhtre bote to banan folmum;
[ac se]* æglæca ehtende wæs,
deorc deaþscua, duguþe ond geogoþe, 160
seomade ond syrede, sinnihte heold
mistige moras; men ne cunnon,
hwyder helrunan hwyrftum scriþað.
Swa fela fyrena feond mancynnes,
atol angengea, oft gefremede, 165
heardra hynða; Heorot eardode,
sincfage sel sweartum nihtum;
no he þone gifstol gretan moste,
maþðum for Metode, ne his myne wisse.
Þæt wæs wræc micel wine Scyldinga, 170
modes brecða. Monig oft gesæt
rice to rune;