Me to grunde teah
fah feondscaða, fæste hæfde
grim on grape; hwæþre me gyfeþe wearð, 555
þæt ic aglæcan orde geræhte,
hildebille; heaþoræs fornam
mihtig meredeor þurh mine hand.
(IX) Swa mec gelome laðgeteonan
þreatedon þearle. Ic him þenode 560
deoran sweorde, swa hit gedefe wæs.
Næs hie ðære fylle gefean hæfdon,
manfordædlan, þæt hie me þegon,
symbel ymbsæton sægrunde neah;
ac on mergenne mecum wunde 565
be yðlafe uppe lægon,
sweordum aswefede, þæt syðþan na
Out on the sea-waves, and we carried it out so.
When we swam into the sea, we had naked swords,
Hard in our hands: we thought to defend ourselves 540
Against the whales. Not at all far ahead of me
Could he float faster on the foamy waves,
Nor would I slack off to fall behind him far.
So we two together were on the sea
For five nights, till dashing flood drove us apart, 545
The surging sea-waves, the coldest of weathers,
Darkening night and the north wind
Battle-grim blew on us; fierce were the waves.
Anger was aroused in the sea creatures.
There my mail-shirt, hard-locked by hand, 550
Performed protection of me against the predators:
The woven war-wear, embellished with gold,
Lay on my breast. A fiendish foe full of hatred
Fiercely pulled me to the floor of the sea,
Grim in its grip; however, it happened to be granted me 555
That I attacked the atrocious demon with my dagger,
My battle-sword; the blast of a bloody duel destroyed
The mighty monster of the deep, thanks to my hand.
(IX) So often loathsome creatures perpetrated
Persecution on me pressingly. I paid back to them 560
With my fine sword, insomuch as fit it was.
They by no means had the pleasure of feasting,
These rapacious ravagers, of ravenously devouring me,
Sitting around a round table, near the seafloor.
But in the morning, wounded by my mace, 565
They floated up along the foamy shore,
Slaughtered by my sword, that since then never
ymb brontne ford brimliðende
lade ne letton. Leoht eastan com,
beorht beacen Godes; brimu swaþredon, 570
þæt ic sænæssas geseon mihte,
windige weallas. Wyrd oft nereð
unfægne eorl, þonne his ellen deah.
Hwæþere me gesælde, þæt ic mid sweorde ofsloh
niceras nigene. No ic on niht gefrægn 575
under heofones hwealf heardran feohtan,
ne on egstreamum earmran mannon;
hwaþere ic fara feng feore gedigde,
siþes werig. Đa mec sæ oþbær,
flod æfter faroðe on Finna land, 580
wadu weallendu. No ic wiht fram þe
swylcra searoniða secgan hyrde,
billa brogan. Breca næfre git
æt heaðolace, ne gehwæþer incer,
swa deorlice dæd gefremede 585
fagum sweordum —no ic þæs [fela]* gylpe—,
þeah ðu þinum broðrum to banan wurde,
heafodmægum; þæs þu in helle scealt
werhðo dreogan, þeah þin wit duge.
Secge ic þe to soðe, sunu Ecglafes, 590
þæt næfre Grendel swa fela gryra gefremede,
atol æglæca, ealdre þinum,
hynðo on Heorote, gif þin hige wære,
sefa swa searogrim, swa þu self talast;
ac he hafað onfunden, þæt he þa fæhðe ne þearf, 595
atole ecgþræce eower leode
swiðe onsittan, Sige-Scyldinga;
They prevented the sea-faring men from their passage
Over the soaring sea-waves. Light came from the east,
God’s bright beacon; the surging waves subsided, 570
That I could see the headlands with
The wind-blown walls. Fate often spares a man
Not yet doomed to die, when his daring deserves it!
Anyhow it was my lot that with my sword I slew
Nine nether-water monsters; I have not heard of 575
A fiercer fight at night beneath the heaven’s vault,
Nor of a man put in more miserable state in the sea.
However, I delivered myself from the demons’ grip,
Weary of war. Then the sea carried me off,
The flood with its
