名人诗歌|Beowulf (2)

WENT he forth^{1 to find at fall of night}

that haughty^{2 house， and heed3 wherever}

the Ring-Danes， outrevelled， to rest had gone.

Found within it the atheling band

asleep after feasting and fearless of sorrow，

of human hardship. Unhallowed wight，

grim and greedy， he grasped betimes，

wrathful， reckless， from resting-places，

thirty of the thanes， and thence he rushed

fain of his fell spoil， faring homeward，

laden^{4 with slaughter5， his lair6 to seek.}

Then at the dawning， as day was breaking，

the might of Grendel to men was known；

then after wassail was wail^{7 uplifted，}

loud moan in the morn. The mighty^{8 chief，}

atheling excellent， unblithe sat，

labored^{9 in woe10 for the loss of his thanes，}

when once had been traced the trail of the fiend，

spirit accurst： too cruel that sorrow，

too long， too loathsome^{11. Not late the respite12；}

with night returning， anew began

ruthless murder； he recked no whit^13，

firm in his guilt^{14， of the feud15 and crime.}

They were easy to find who elsewhere sought

in room remote their rest at night，

bed in the bowers，1 when that bale was shown，

was seen in sooth， with surest token，

the hall-thane's2 hate. Such held themselves

far and fast who the fiend outran！

Thus ruled unrighteous and raged his fill

one against all； until empty stood

that lordly building， and long it bode^{16 so.}

Twelve years' tide the trouble he bore，

sovran of Scyldings， sorrows in plenty，

boundless^{17 cares. There came unhidden}

tidings true to the tribes of men，

in sorrowful songs， how ceaselessly Grendel

harassed^{18 Hrothgar， what hate he bore him，}

what murder and massacre^{19， many a year，}

feud unfading， refused consent

to deal with any of Daneland's earls，

make pact^{20 of peace， or compound for gold：}

still less did the wise men ween to get

great fee for the feud from his fiendish hands.

But the evil one ambushed^{21 old and young}

death-shadow dark， and dogged them still，

lured^{22， or lurked23 in the livelong night}

of misty^{24 moorlands： men may say not}

where the haunts of these Hell-Runes3 be.

Such heaping of horrors the hater of men，

lonely roamer， wrought^{25 unceasing，}

harassings heavy. O'er Heorot he lorded，

gold-bright hall， in gloomy nights；

and ne'er could the prince4 approach his throne，

'twas judgment^{27 of God， or have joy in his hall.}

Sore was the sorrow to Scyldings'-friend，

heart-rending misery^{28. Many nobles}

sat as百度竞价推广bled， and searched out counsel

how it were best for bold-hearted men

against harassing^{26 terror to try their hand.}

Whiles they vowed^{29 in their heathen fanes}

altar-offerings， asked with words5

that the slayer-of-souls would succor^{30 give them}

for the pain of their people. Their practice this，

their heathen hope； 'twas Hell they thought of

in mood of their mind. Almighty^{31 they knew not，}

Doomsman of Deeds and dreadful Lord，

nor Heaven's-Helmet heeded^{32 they ever，}

Wielder-of-Wonder. Woe for that man

who in harm and hatred^{33 hales his soul}

to fiery^{34 embraces； nor favor nor change}

awaits he ever. But well for him

that after death-day may draw to his Lord，

and friendship find in the Father's arms！

[1] The smaller buildings within the main enclosure but separate from the hall.

[2] Grendel.

[3] Sorcerers-of-hell.

[4] Hrothgar， who is the Scyldings'-friend of 170.

[5] That is， in formal or prescribed phrase.