[S13] [E13]
Beowulf’s death
Translation by M.Alexander
The battle king spoke,
An aged man in sorrow; he eyed the gold.
“I wish to put in words my thanks
to the King of the Glory, the giver of All,
that I should have been able to acquire for my people
before my death-day an endowment such as this.
My life’s full portion I have paid out now
For this hoard of treasure; you must attend to the people’s
Needs henceforward; no further may I stay.
Bid men of battle build me a tomb
Fair after fire, and the foreland by the sea
That shall stand as a reminder of me to my people,
Towering high above Hronesness
So that ocean travellers shall afterwards name it
Beowulf’s barrow, bending in the distance
Their masted ships through the mists upon the sea”.
He unclasped the golden collar from his neck,
Staunch-hearted prince, and passed it to the thane,
With the gold-plated helmet, harness and arm-ring;
He bade the young spear-man use them well:
“You are the last man left our kindred,
The house of the Waymundings! Weird has lured
Each of my family to his fated end,
each earl through his valour; I must follow them".
This was the aged man’s uttermost word
From the thoughts of his breast; he embraced the pyre’s
Seething surges, soul left its case,
Going its way to the glory of the righteous.