The Wanderer (poem)
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/e6/Meno_M%C3%BChlig_Holzsammlerin_weist_Ritter_den_Weg.jpg/220px-Meno_M%C3%BChlig_Holzsammlerin_weist_Ritter_den_Weg.jpg)
The Wanderer is an anonymous elegiac Old English poem that could date to the early 7th century, preserved in the Exeter Book (c. 960 to 990). The narrator of the poem laments his fate as an unprotected man who, having lost both his lord and his family, faces a hostile world alone.
Quotes
[edit]Nor may a wrecked will work new hope…
- The translations used here include those by Michael Alexander in The Earliest English Poems (1975).
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/48/Uffington-White-Horse-sat.jpg/220px-Uffington-White-Horse-sat.jpg)
Where the giver of treasure?
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/eb/Los_portadores_de_la_antorcha.jpg/220px-Los_portadores_de_la_antorcha.jpg)
Man is lent, kin is lent;
All this earth's frame shall stand empty.
- Oft him anhaga are gebideð,
metudes miltse, þeah þe he modcearig
geond lagulade longe sceolde
hreran mid hondum hrimcealde sæ,
wadan wræclastas. Wyrd bið ful aræd!
- Ne mæg werig mod wyrde wiðstondan,
ne se hreo hyge helpe gefremman.
Forðon domgeorne dreorigne oft
in hyra breostcofan bindað fæste.
- Wat se þe cunnað,
hu sliþen bið sorg to geferan,
þam þe him lyt hafað leofra geholena.- He knows who makes trial
How harsh and bitter is care for companion
To him who hath few friends to shield him. - Line 29
- He knows who makes trial
- Ongietan sceal gleaw hæle hu gæstlic bið,
þonne ealre þisse worulde wela weste stondeð.
- Hwær cwom mearg? Hwær cwom mago? Hwær cwom maþþumgyfa?
Hwær cwom symbla gesetu? Hwær sindon seledreamas?
Eala beorht bune! Eala byrnwiga!
Eala þeodnes þrym! Hu seo þrag gewat,
genap under nihthelm, swa heo no wære.- Where is that horse now? Where are those men? Where is the hoard-sharer?
Where is the house of the feast? Where is the hall's uproar?
Alas, bright cup! Alas, burnished fighter!
Alas, proud prince! How that time has passed,
Dark under night’s helm, as though it never had been! - Line 92
- Variant translation:
- Where is that horse now? Where are those men? Where is the hoard-sharer?
- Where is the horse gone? Where the rider?
Where the giver of treasure?
Where are the seats at the feast?
Where are the revels in the hall?
Alas for the bright cup!
Alas for the mailed warrior!
Alas for the splendour of the prince!
How that time has passed away,
dark under the cover of night,
as if it had never been!
- Where is the horse gone? Where the rider?
- Her bið feoh læne, her bið freond læne,
her bið mon læne, her bið mæg læne,
eal þis eorþan gesteal idel weorþeð!- Wealth is lent us, friends are lent us,
Man is lent, kin is lent;
All this earth's frame shall stand empty. - Line 108
- Wealth is lent us, friends are lent us,