The Wanderer y The Wife's Complaint - Traducciones de Michael J. Alexander

Equipo Docente
de Literatura Inglesa I: Ejes de la Literatura Medieval y Renacentista,

Dpto. de Filologías Extranjeras y sus Lingüísticas:
Ángeles de la Concha
Elena Bandín
Marta Cerezo
Jesús Cora
Anglo-Saxon Elegiac Poems in Alliterative Translation
You are provided with these alliterative verse translations of "The Wanderer" and "The
Wife's Complaint" (or "The Wife's Lament") because the translations in the Norton
Anthology are in prose and they do not do reproduce the features of Anglo-Saxon prosody.
"The Wanderer"
This translation is by Michael Alexander. It reproduces in part the alliterative verse of the
original and also maintains archaisms like the -eth and -th endings of the third person
singular of the present tense of verbs. The original text is not separated either in verses or
sections, but it is written in running-on lines. Alexander follows modern practice and
separates lines and introduces separations into sections thus making clearer the different
ideas developed in the poem. Some verses are split into two parts in different lines at the
caesura to mark the beginning of a new idea. These two parts are in fact one single verse
and this is reflected in the verses numbering.
Please, notice the quotation marks that are used in English to indicate a different voice
from that of the "poetic I" of the poem. This change in voices is indicated by hyphens
("guiones") in Spanish, so in the case that a fragment of this poem showing the different
voices is part of the exam, and you are asked to translate it whole or in part, the Spanish
typographical conventions must be used accordingly if necessary. Remember that,
obviously, single verses are not syntactically or semantically independent unless
punctuation indicates it so.
Source: The Earliest English Poems, trans. and intro. by Michael Alexander.
Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1966, 2nd edition, 1977, pp. 70-73.
"The Wanderer"
Who liveth alone longeth for mercy,

Maker's mercy. Though he must traverse
tracts of sea, sick at heart,
- trouble with oars ice-cold waters,
the ways of exile - Wierd is set fast. 1
Thus spoke such a 'grasshopper', 2 old griefs in his mind,

cold slaughters, the death of dear kinsmen:
“Alone am I driven each day before daybreak

to give my cares utterance.
None are there now among the living 10
to whom I dare declare me throughly,
tell my heart's thought. Too truly I know
it is in a man no mean virtue
that he keep close his heart's chest,
hold his thought-hoard, think as he may.
No weary mind may stand against Wierd

nor may a wrecked will work new hope;
wherefore, most often, those eager for fame
bind the dark mood fast in their breasts.
So must I also curb my mind, 20

cut off from country, from kind far distant,
by cares overworn, bind it in fetters;
this since, long ago, the ground’s shroud
enwrapped my gold-friend. Wretched I went thence,
winter-wearied, over the waves’ bound;
dreary I sought hall of a gold-giver,
where far or near I might find
him who in meadhall might take heed of me,
furnish comfort to a man friendless,
win me with cheer.
He knows who makes trial 3 30
1
Wierd o Wyrd: Fate, Destiny.
2
As Michael Alexander explains in his introduction to the text, “grasshopper” is an alternative translation of
the original Old English word “eardstepper”. This word is ambiguous, as it means both someone who
wanders about the land and the insect now called “grasshopper” in Modern English.
Equipo Docente de Literatura Inglesa I: ejes de la literatura medieval y renacentista, 2/7
Dpto. de Filologías Extranjeras y sus Lingüísticas
Facultad de Filología
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Elena Bandín Fuentes: 91 398 68 30 ebandin@flog.uned.es
Marta Cerezo Moreno: 91 398 81 32 / 68 03 mcerezo@flog.uned.es
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how harsh and bitter is care for companion

to him who hath few friends to shield him.
Track ever taketh him, never the torqued gold,
not earthly glory, but cold heart's cave.
He minds him of hall-men, of treasure-giving,
how in his youth his gold-friend
gave him to feast. Fallen all this joy.
He knows this who is forced to forgo his lord's,

his friend's counsels, to lack them for long:
oft sorrow and sleep, banded together, 40
come to bind the lone outcast;
he thinks in his heart then that he his lord
claspeth and kisseth, and on knee layeth
hand and head, as he had at otherwhiles
in days now gone, when he enjoyed the gift-stool.
Awakeneth after this friendless man,
seeth before him fallow waves,
seabirds bathing, broading out feathers,
snow and hail swirl, hoar-frost falling.
Then all the heavier his heart's wounds, 50
sore for his loved lord. Sorrow freshens.
Remembered kinsmen press through his mind;

he singeth out gladly, scanneth eagerly
men from the same hearth. They swim away.
Sailors' ghosts bring not many
known songs there. Care grows fresh
in him who shall send forth too often
over locked waves his weary spirit.
Therefore I may not think, throughout this world,

why cloud cometh not on my mind 60
when I think over all the life of earls,
how at a stroke they have given up hall,
mood-proud thanes. So this middle earth
each of all days ageth and falleth."
3
Here, Alexander splits the verse into two sections using the cesura (pause) to mark the beginning a new
idea. The original verse in the manuscript is not separated like this. The two parts are considered verse 30.
Senda del Rey, 7
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Wherefore no man grows wise without he have 4

his share of winters. A wise man holds out;
he is not too hot-hearted, nor too hasty in speech,
nor too weak a warrior, not wanting in fore-thought,
nor too greedy of goods, nor too glad, nor too mild,
nor ever too eager to boast, ere he knows all. 70
A man should forbear boastmaking

until his fierce mind fully knows
which way his spleen shall expend itself.
A wise man may grasp how ghastly it shall be

when all this world's wealth standeth waste,
even as now, in many places, over the earth
walls stand, wind-beaten,
hung with hoar-frost; ruined habitations.
The wine-halls crumble; their wielders lie
bereft of bliss, the band all fallen 80
proud by the wall. War took off some,
carried them on their course hence; one a bird bore
over the high sea; one the hoar wolf
dealt to death; one his drear-checked
earl stretched in an earthen trench.
The Maker of men hath so marred this dwelling

that human laughter is not heard about it
and idle stand these old giant-works.
A man who on these walls wisely looked

who sounded deeply this dark life 90
would think back to the blood spilt here,
weigh it in his wit. His word would be this:
Where is that horse now? Where are those men? Where is the hoard-sharer?
Where is the house of the feast? Where is the hall's uproar?
Alas, bright cup! Alas, burnished fighter!

Alas, proud prince! How that time has passed,
dark under night's helm, as though it never had been!
4
Have: subjunctive, here, that is why it is not "has", and "have" is not a mistake.
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There stands in the stead of staunch thanes

a towering wall wrought with worm-shapes;
the earls are off-taken by the ash-spear's point, 100
- that thirsty weapon. Their Wierd is glorious.
Storms break on the stone hillside,

the ground bound by driving sleet,
winter's wrath. Then wanness cometh,
night's shade spreadeth, sendeth from north
the rough hail to harry mankind.
In the earth-realm all is crossed;

Wierd's will changeth the world.
Wealth is lent us, friends are lent us,
man is lent, kin is lent; 110
all this earth's frame shall stand empty."
So spoke the sage in his heart; he sat apart in thought.

Good is he who keeps faith: nor should care too fast
be out of a man's breast before he first know the cure:
a warrior fights on bravely. Well is it for him who seeks forgiveness,
the Heavenly Father's solace, in whom all our fastness stands.

Senda del Rey, 7
28040 Madrid

Fax: 91 398 73 99
"The Wife's Complaint"
As in "The Wanderer", some verses are split into two parts in different lines at the caesura
to mark the beginning of a new idea. Again, these parts form one verse and this is taken
into account by the verses numbering.
Source: The Earliest English Poems, trans. and intro. by Michael Alexander.
Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1966, 2nd edition, 1977, pp. 81-2.
I have wrought these words together out of a wryed existence,

the heart's tally, telling off
the griefs I have undergone from girlhood upwards,
old and new, and now more than ever;
for I have never not had some new sorrow,
some fresh affliction to fight against.
The first was my lord's leaving his people here:
Crossed crests. To what country I knew not,
wondered where, awoke unhappy.
I left, fared any road, friendless, an outcast,
sought any service to staunch the lack of him. 10
Then his kinsmen ganged, began to think
thoughts they did not speak, of splitting the wedlock;
so -estranged, alienated- we lived each
alone, a long way apart; how I longed for him!
In his harshness he had me brought here;
and in these parts there were few friendly-minded,
worth trusting.
Trouble in the heart now:
I saw the bitterness, the bound mind
of my matched man, mourning-browed,
mirk in his mood, murder in his thoughts. 20
Our lips had smiled to swear hourly
that nothing should split us -save dying-
nothing else. All that has changed:
it is now as if it never had been,
our friendship. I feel in the wind
that the man dearest to me detests me.
I was banished to this knoll knotted by woods
to live in a den dug beneath an oak.

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Old is this earthen doom; it eats at my heart.
I see the thorns thrive up there in thick coverts 30

on the banks that baulk these black hollows:
not a gay dwelling. Here the grief bred
by lordlack preys on me. Some lovers in this world
live dear to each other, lie warm together
at day's beginning; I go by myself
about these earth caves under the oak tree.
Here I must sit the summer day through,
here weep out the woes of exile,
the hardships heaped upon me. My heart shall never
suddenly sail into slack water, 40
all the longings of a lifetime answered.
May grief and bitterness blast the mind
of that young man! May his mind ache
behind his smiling face! May a flock of sorrows
choke his chest! He would change his tune
if he lived alone in a land of exile
far from his folk.
Where my friend is stranded
frost crusts the cracked cliff-face
grey waves grind the shingle.
The mind cannot bear in such a bleak place 50
very much grief.
He remembers too often
less grim surroundings. Sorrow follows
this too long wait for one who is estranged.

Senda del Rey, 7
28040 Madrid

Fax: 91 398 73 99

The Wanderer y The Wife's Complaint - Traducciones de Michael J. Alexander

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Equipo Docente

de Literatura Inglesa I: Ejes de la Literatura Medieval y Renacentista,

Anglo-Saxon Elegiac Poems in Alliterative Translation

Who liveth alone longeth for mercy,

Thus spoke such a 'grasshopper', 2 old griefs in his mind,

“Alone am I driven each day before daybreak

No weary mind may stand against Wierd

So must I also curb my mind, 20

Ángeles de la Concha Muñoz: 91 398 68 31 aconcha@flog.uned.es

how harsh and bitter is care for companion

He knows this who is forced to forgo his lord's,

Remembered kinsmen press through his mind;

Therefore I may not think, throughout this world,

Ángeles de la Concha Muñoz: 91 398 68 31 aconcha@flog.uned.es

Wherefore no man grows wise without he have 4

A man should forbear boastmaking

A wise man may grasp how ghastly it shall be

The Maker of men hath so marred this dwelling

A man who on these walls wisely looked

Alas, bright cup! Alas, burnished fighter!

Ángeles de la Concha Muñoz: 91 398 68 31 aconcha@flog.uned.es

There stands in the stead of staunch thanes

Storms break on the stone hillside,

In the earth-realm all is crossed;

So spoke the sage in his heart; he sat apart in thought.

Equipo Docente de Literatura Inglesa I: ejes de la literatura medieval y renacentista, 5/7

Ángeles de la Concha Muñoz: 91 398 68 31 aconcha@flog.uned.es

"The Wife's Complaint"

I have wrought these words together out of a wryed existence,

Equipo Docente de Literatura Inglesa I: ejes de la literatura medieval y renacentista, 6/7

Ángeles de la Concha Muñoz: 91 398 68 31 aconcha@flog.uned.es

Old is this earthen doom; it eats at my heart.

I see the thorns thrive up there in thick coverts 30

Equipo Docente de Literatura Inglesa I: ejes de la literatura medieval y renacentista, 7/7

Ángeles de la Concha Muñoz: 91 398 68 31 aconcha@flog.uned.es

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