Exeter Riddle 5: Difference between revisions
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==Original== |
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poop |
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<pre> |
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Ic eom anhaga iserne wund, |
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bille gebennad, beadoweorca sd, |
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ecgum werig. Oft ic wig seo, |
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frecne feohtan. Frofre ne wene, |
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t me geoc cyme gugewinnes, |
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r ic mid ldum eal forwure, |
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ac mec hnossia homera lafe, |
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heardecg heoroscearp, hondweorc smia, |
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bita in burgum; ic abidan sceal |
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laran gemotes. Nfre lcecynn |
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on folcstede findan meahte, |
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ara e mid wyrtum wunde gehlde, |
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ac me ecga dolg eacen weora |
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urh deaslege dagum ond nihtum. |
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</pre> |
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==Answer== |
==Answer== |
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Latest revision as of 23:59, 12 September 2007
This is riddle number 5 from The Exeter Book.
Translation
I am solitary, scored by knives Bitten by swords, sated of battle Weary of blades. War I see often Terrible conflict. No comfort I seek With thoughts of safety in the thick of war Before I die amidst daring men But I am hurt by hammer-leavings The bitter and hardy handiwork of smiths Nip me in castles; I need yet await Grimmer ordeals. I could never In any dwelling discover a healer Whose art in herbs could heal my wounds But my blade-gashes grow yet bigger By deadly blows by day and night.
Original
Answer
A shield
