Deor: an Old English Poem, set to music by Will Rowan Music Copyright William Thomas Rowan 2012 Follow me on Twitter @banjoheathen www.WindborneSingers.com www.IronwoodArtisans.com
Welund him be wurman
wræces cunnade,
anhydig eorl
earfoþa dreag,
hæfde him to gesiþþe
sorge and longaþ,
wintercealde wræce,
wean oft onfond
siþþan hine Niðhad on
nede legde,
swoncre seonobende
on syllan monn.
Þæs ofereode,
þisses swa mæg.
Beadohilde ne wæs
hyre broþra deaþ
on sefan swa sar
swa hyre sylfre þing,
þæt heo gearolice
ongietan hæfde
þæt heo eacen wæs;
æfre ne meahte
þriste geþencan
hu ymb þæt sceolde.
Þæs ofereode,
þisses swa mæg.
We þæt Mæðhilde
mone gefrugnon
wurdon grundlease
Geates frige,
þæt hi seo sorglufu
slæp ealle binom.
Þæs ofereode,
þisses swa mæg.
Ðeodric ahte
þritig wintra
Mæringa burg;
þæt wæs monegum cuþ.
Þæs ofereode,
þisses swa mæg.
We geascodan
Eormanrices
wylfenne geþoht;
ahte wide folc
Gotena rices;
þæt wæs grim cyning.
Sæt secg monig
sorgum gebunden,
wean on wenan,
wyscte geneahhe
þæt þæs cynerices
ofercumen wære.
Þæs ofereode,
þisses swa mæg.
Siteð sorgcearig,
sælum bidæled,
on sefan sweorceð,
sylfum þinceð
þæt sy endeleas
earfoða dæl,
mæg þonne geþencan
þæt geond þas woruld
witig Dryhten
wendeþ geneahhe,
eorle monegum
are gesceawað,
wislicne blæd,
sumum weana dæl.
Þæt ic bi me sylfum
secgan wille,
þæt ic hwile wæs
Heodeninga scop,
dryhtne dyre;
me wæs Deor noma.
Ahte ic fela wintra
folgað tilne,
holdne hlaford,
oþ þæt Heorrenda nu,
leoðcræftig monn,
londryht geþah
þæt me eorla hleo
ær gesealde.
Þæs ofereode,
þisses swa mæg.
Weland himself, worm cut,
experienced agony,
the strong-minded noble
endured troubles;
he had for his companions
sorrow and longing,
winter-bitter wrack,
he often found misery
after Niðhad
put fetters on him,
supple sinew-bonds
on the better man.
That was overcome,
so may this be.
Beadohild was not
as sad in mind
for the death of her brothers
as for her own trouble,
she had
clearly realized
that she was pregnant;
she could never
think resolutely
how that would turn out.
That was overcome,
so may this be.
We heard that
the moans of Matilda,
of the lady of Geat,
were numberless
so that her sorrowful love
entirely deprived of sleep.
That was overcome,
so may this be.
Theodric ruled
for thirty winters
the city of the Mærings;
that was known to many.
That was overcome,
so may this be.
We heard
Ermanaric's
wolfish thought;
he ruled widely the people
of the kingdom of the Goths -
That was a grim king!
Many a warrior sat,
bound up by cares,
woes in mind,
wished constantly
that the kingdom
were overcome.
That was overcome,
so may this be.
He sits sorrowful and anxious,
bereft of joy,
darkening in his mind,
he thinks to himself
how endless are
his troubles;
then he can consider
that throughout this world
the wise Lord
always goes,
to many men
he shows honour,
sure glory,
to some a share of troubles.
I, for myself,
want to say this,
that for a while I was
the poet of the Hedenings,
dear to my lord;
my name was Deor.
I had for many winters
a good position,
a loyal lord,
until Heorrenda now,
a man skilful in songs,
has taken the estate
that the protector of warriors
before gave me.
That was overcome,
so may this be.