Translation Three Manuscript Section 1b

lines 17-34

The Wanderer 

Translation by Michael Alexander

(lines17-18)

Wherefore, most often, those eager for fame

Bind the dark mood fast in their breasts.

(lines 19-29a)

So must I also curb my mind,

Cut off from country, from kind far distant,

By cares overworn, bind it in fetters;

This since, long ago, the ground's shroud

Enwrapped my gold-friend. Wretched I went thence,

Winter-wearied, over the waves' bound;

Dreary I sought hall of a gold-giver,

Where far or near I might find

Him who in meadhall might take heed of me,

Furnish comfort to a man friendless,

Win me with cheer.

(lines 29b-34)

He knows who makes trial

How harsh and bitter is care for companion

To him who hath few friends to shield him.

Track ever taketh him, never the torqued gold,

Not earthly glory, but cold heart's cave.

He minds him of hall-men, of treasure-giving,

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