Beowulf (opening)
Hwæt!
Wē
Gār-Dena
in
geārdagum,
þēodcyninga
þrym
gefrūnon,
hū
ðā
æþelingas
ellen
fremedon.
Lo! We have heard of the glory of the Spear-Danes’ people-kings in days of yore — how those princes performed deeds of courage.
Oft
Scyld
Scēfing
sceaþena
þrēatum,
monegum
mǣgþum
meodosetla
oftēah,
egsode
eorlas,
syððan
ǣrest
wearð
fēasceaft
funden;
hē
þæs
frōfre
gebād,
Often Scyld Scefing seized the mead-benches from bands of enemies, from many tribes, and terrified their warriors — since he was first found destitute. He lived to see consolation for that.
wēox
under
wolcnum,
weorðmyndum
þāh,
oðþæt
him
ǣghwylc
þāra
ymbsittendra
ofer
hronrāde
hȳran
scolde,
gomban
gyldan.
Þæt
wæs
gōd
cyning!
He grew under the skies and throve in honors, until each of the neighboring peoples over the whale-road had to obey him and pay tribute. That was a good king!
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