.

 

Wiga is on eorþan wundrum acenned

dryhtum to nytte,     of dumbum twam

torht atyhted,     þone on teon wigeð

feond his feonde.     Forstrangne oft

wif hine wrið.     He him wel hereð,

þeowaþ him geþwære,      gif him þegniað

mægeð ond mæcgas      mid gemete ryhte,

fedað hine fægre;     he him fremum stepeð

life on lissum.     Leanað grimme

þam þe hine wloncne     weorþan læteð.

Here is a famous Old English poem called “THE WIFE’S LAMENT”. 

Ic þis giedd wrece ….. bi m ful gomorre,

mnre sylfre sð. ….. Ic þæt secgan mæg

hwæt ic yrmþa gebd, ….. siþþan ic up wox,

nwes oþþe ealdes, ….. n m þonne n.

 ic wite wonn ….. mnra wræcsþa.

…..rest mn hlford gewt ….. heonan of lodum

ofer þa gelc;….. hæfde ic htceare

hwr min lodfruma ….. londes wre.

Ð ic m fran gewt ….. folgað scan,

winelas wraecca ….. for mnre weþearfe,

ongunnon þæt þæs monnes ….. mgas hycgan

þurh dyrne geþht….. þæt h tdlden unc,

pæt wit gewdost ….. in woruldrice

lifdon lðlicost; ….. and mec longade.

Ht mec hlford min …..hr eard niman;

hte ic lofra lt ….. on þissum londstede,

holdra fronda; ….. forþon is mn hyge gomor.

Ð ic m ful gemæcne ….. monnan funde,

heardsligne, ….. hygegomorne,

md mþendne, ….. morþor hycgendne,

blþe gebro. ….. Ful oft wit botedan

pæt unc ne gedlde …..nemne dað na,

wiht elles; ….. eft is þæt onhworfen,

is n fornumen ….. sw hit n wre

frondscipe uncer. ….. Sceal ic feor ge nah

mnes felalofan ….. fhðu drogan.

…..Heht mec mon wunian ….. on wuda bearwe,

under ctro ….. þm eorðscræfe.

Eald is þes eorðsele, …..eal ic eom oflongad;

sindon dena dimme,….. dna upha,

bitre burgtnas….. brrum beweaxne,

wc wynna las…… Ful oft mec hr wrþe begeat

fromsþ fran. ….. Frnd sind on eorþan,

lofe lifgende, ….. leger weardiað,

þonne ic on htan….. na gonge

under ctro ….. geond þs eorðscrafu.

Þar ic sittan mt ….. sumorlangne dæg,

þare ic wpan mæg ….. mne wræcsiþas,

earfoþa fela; ….. forþon ic afre ne mæg

þare mdceare ….. mnre gerestan

ne ealles þæs longaþes ….. þe mec on þissum lfe begeat.

….. scyle geong mon ….. wesan gomormd,

heard heortan geþht; ….. swylce habban sceal

blþe gebaro ….. ac þon brostceare,

sinsorgna gedreag; ….. s æt him sylfum gelong

eal his worulde wyn. ….. S ful wde fh

feorres folclondes ….. þæt mn frond siteð

under stnhliþe ….. storme behrmed,

wine wrigmd, ….. wætre beflwen

on drorsele, ….. drogeð se mn wine

micle mdceare; ….. h gemon t oft

wynlicran wc. ….. W bið þm þe sceal

of langoþe ….. lofes bdan.

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Here’s a Modern English version:

I draw these words from deep wells of my grief,

care-worn, unutterably sad.

I can recount woes I’ve borne since birth,

present and past, never more than now.

I have won, from my exile-paths, only pain.

First, my lord forsook his folk, left,

crossed the seas’ tumult, far from our people.

Since then, I’ve known

wrenching dawn-griefs, dark mournings; oh where,

where can he be?

Then I, too, left—a lonely, lordless refugee,

full of unaccountable desires!

But the man’s kinsmen schemed secretly

to estrange us, divide us, keep us apart,

across earth’s wide kingdom, and my heart broke.

Then my lord spoke:

“Take up residence here.”

I had few acquaintances in this unknown, cheerless

friendless region, none close.

Christ, I felt lost!

Then I thought I had found a well-matched man—

one meant for me,

but unfortunately he

was ill-starred and blind, with a devious mind,

full of murderous intentions, plotting some crime!

Before God we

vowed never to part, not till kingdom come, never!

But now that’s all changed, forever—

our friendship done, severed.

I must hear, far and near, contempt for my husband.

So other men bade me, “Go, live in the grove,

beneath the great oaks, in an earth-cave, alone.”

In this ancient cave-dwelling I am lost and oppressed—

the valleys are dark, the hills immense,

and this cruel-briared enclosure—an arid abode!

The injustice assails me—my lord’s absence!

On earth there are lovers who share the same bed

while I pass through life dead, in this dark abscess

where I wilt, summer days unable to rest

or forget the sorrows of my life’s hard lot.

A young woman must always be

stern, hard-of-heart, unmoved,

opposing breast-cares and her heartaches’ legions.

She must appear cheerful

even in a tumult of grief.

Like a criminal exiled to a far-off land,

moaning beneath insurmountable cliffs,

my weary-minded love, drenched by wild storms

and caught in the clutches of anguish,

is reminded constantly of our former happiness.

Woe be it to them who abide in longing.

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While you were reading the Old English version, did you notice that any of the words remind you of words we use now?

Here’s a few Old English words. Can you think of any Modern English words like them?

abutan

andswaru

astandan

beatan

beginnan

bliss

bringan

lif

beag

morþor

Say the words out loud. You might just find that they sound a little like some words you are already familiar with.

Here are the words again, along with their Modern English meanings.

abutan:             about/around

andswaru:       answer

astandan:        stand up

beatan:             to  beat/pound

beginnan:        begin

bliss:                  bliss/joy happiness

bringan:            bring

lif:                        life

beag

morþor

I have left the words “beag” and “morþor” off the list because they are worth looking at on their own.
The word “beag” means a ring. Isn’t it interesting that it sounds rather like the world “bagel”?
But here’s something even more interesting about it!
 
“The Lord Of The Rings” and “The Hobbit” were written by J.R.R. Tolkien who was also a Professor of Old And Middle English in Oxford and Cambridge.
Isn’t it interesting that one of the most important elements of his story is a ring and that he called the characters who carry the ring “Baggins” who live at “Bag End”?
Also, the word “morþor” means “terrible crime” which is both where we get the word “murder” from and quite probably where Tolkien got the name “Mordor” from for his book!
 
 If you would like to read some more Old English, have a look for a poem called “The Ruin” and also a poem called “The Seafarer”. Also, make sure to look up “Beowulf”!

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Let’s move on to Middle English.
 
By far the most famous piece of writing in Middle English is “The Canterbury Tales” which was written mostly in 1394 by Geoffrey Chaucer.
This book is about a group of people who go on a pilgrimage from London to Canterbury Cathedral. To pass the time, they all agree to tell stories. The best storyteller will receive a free dinner when they get to Canterbury.  

Here’s a description of one of the characters, the Miller:

            The Millere was a stout carl for the nones;

            Ful byg he was of brawn and eek of bones-

            That proved wel, for over al ther he cam

            At wrastlynge he wolde have alwey the ram.

            He was short-sholdred, brood, a thikke knarre,

            Ther was no dore that he nolde heve of harre,

            Or breke it at a rennyng with his heed.

            His berd as any sowe or fox was reed,

            And therto brood, as though it were a spade.

            Upon the cop right of his nose he hade

            A werte, and thereon stood a toft of herys,

            Reed as the brustles of a sowes erys;

            Hise nosethirles blake were and wyde.

            A swerd and bokeler bar he by his syde.

            His mouth as greet was as a greet forneys.

            He was a janglere and a goliardeys,

            And that was moost of synne and harlotries.

            Wel koude he stelen corn, and tollen thries;

            And yet he hadde a thombe of gold, pardee.

            A whit cote and a blew hood wered he.

            A baggepipe wel koude he blowe and sowne,

            And therwithal he broghte us out of towne.

Having read this, did you notice that it is a lot easier to read than Old English? While a lot of words might be unfamiliar to you, it makes a bit more sense to your eyes because it is closer to our version of English.

Here is a Modern English translation for you to read:

The Miller was a strong fellow, so he was,

Hardy, big of brawn and big of bone;

Which was well proved, for wherever a festive day

At wrestling, he always took the prize away.

He was stoutly built, broad and heavy;

He could heave a door from its hinges, that easy,

Or break it through, by running, with his head.

His beard, as any sow or fox, was red,

And broad it was as if it were a spade.

Upon his nose right on the top he had

A wart, and on it stood a tuft of hairs,

Red as the bristles in an old sow’s ears;

His nostrils, they were black and wide.

A sword and buckler he carried by his side.

His mouth was like a furnace door for size.

He was a jester and knew some poetry,

But mostly all of sin and obscenity.

He could steal corn and three times charge his fee;

And yet indeed he had a thumb of gold.

A blue hood he wore and a white coat;

A bagpipe he could blow well, up and down,

And with that same he brought us out of town.

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Did you work out what the answer to the riddle is?

The answer is “FIRE”!