Древнеанглийская поэзия

БИТВА ПРИ БРУНАНБУРГЕ
(английский вариант, переводчик не установлен)

 

In this year King Aethelstan, Lord of warriors,

ring-giver to men, and his brother also,

Prince Eadmund, won eternal glory

in battle with sword edges

around Brunanburh. They split the shield-wall,

they hewed battle shields with the remnants of hammers.

The sons of Eadweard, it was only befitting their noble descent

from their ancestors that they should often

defend their land in battle against each hostile people,

horde and home. The enemy perished,

Scots men and seamen,

fated they fell. The field flowed

with blood of warriors, from sun up

in the morning, when the glorious star

glided over the earth, God's bright candle,

eternal lord, till that noble creation

sank to its seat. There lay many a warrior

by spears destroyed; Northern men

shot over shield, likewise Scottish as well,

weary, war sated.

The West-Saxons pushed onward

all day; in troops they pursued the hostile people.

They hewed the fugitive grievously from behind

with swords sharp from the grinding.

The Mercians did not refuse hard hand-play to any warrior

who came with Anlaf over the sea-surge

in the bosom of a ship, those who sought land,

fated to fight. Five lay dead

on the battle-field, young kings,

put to sleep by swords, likewise also seven

of Anlaf's earls, countless of the army,

sailors and Scots. There the North-men's chief was put

to flight, by need constrained

to the prow of a ship with little company:

he pressed the ship afloat, the king went out

on the dusky flood-tide, he saved his life.

Likewise, there also the old campaigner through flight came

to his own region in the north-- Constantine --

hoary warrior. He had no reason to exult

the great meeting; he was of his kinsmen bereft,

friends fell on the battle-field,

killed at strife: even his son, young in battle, he left

in the place of slaughter, ground to pieces with wounds.

That grizzle-haired warrior had no

reason to boast of sword-slaughter,

old deceitful one, no more did Anlaf;

with their remnant of an army they had no reason to

laugh that they were better in deed of war

in battle-field--collision of banners,

encounter of spears, encounter of men,

trading of blows--when they played against

the sons of Eadweard on the battle field.

Departed then the Northmen in nailed ships.

The dejected survivors of the battle,

sought Dublin over the deep water,

leaving Dinges mere

to return to Ireland , ashamed in spirit.

Likewise the brothers, both together,

King and Prince, sought their home,

West-Saxon land, exultant from battle.

They left behind them, to enjoy the corpses,

the dark coated one, the dark horny-beaked raven

and the dusky-coated one,

the eagle white from behind, to partake of carrion,

greedy war-hawk, and that gray animal

the wolf in the forest.

Never was there more slaughter

on this island, never yet as many

people killed before this

with sword's edge: never according to those who tell us

from books, old wisemen,

since from the east Angles and Saxons came up

over the broad sea. Britain they sought,

Proud war-smiths who overcame the Welsh,

glorious warriors they took hold of the land.

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