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    The

    Wanderer

    Translated

    by

    Crossley-Holland

    "The

    Wanderer"

    consisfs

    of a

    monologue

    spoken

    by a char-

    acter whose

    fate it is

    to roam

    the

    seas

    in

    search

    of

    a

    lord

    to

    replace

    his

    dead

    "gold-friend." The

    speaker ac-

    qulres wisdom

    through

    his

    grim

    wanderings.

    This bleak

    monologue

    is

    flanked

    by two

    moralizing

    passages.

    It

    has

    been.

    suggested that

    the monk

    who wrote

    down

    the

    poem

    might

    have

    been trying

    to

    make

    its essentially

    pagan

    spirit more

    acceptable

    to a

    Christian

    audience

    by

    add-

    ing

    these

    expressions

    of

    faith

    in

    God

    to

    the

    poem.

    The lonely wanderer

    prays

    often

    for

    compassion

    And for

    mercy

    from

    Lord

    God; but

    for

    a

    long

    time

    Destiny

    decrees

    that

    with

    a

    heavy

    heart

    he

    must

    dip

    His

    oars

    into

    icy

    waters,

    working

    his

    passage

    over the

    sea.

    He

    must

    follow

    the

    paths

    of

    exile. Fate

    is inexorable

    "The

    Wanderer" from

    THE BATTLE OF MALDON

    AND

    OTHER OLD ENGLISH

    POEMS.

    Translation

    copyright

    @ 1966

    by

    Kevin

    Crossley-Holland. Reprinted

    by.psrmssion

    of

    Deborah Bogers,

    Ltd., London.

    THE WANDERER

    39

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    -_e

    ((^

    $*\

    rn"-ryanderer's

    min{

    moved

    upon adversity

    "

    lffiage

    slaughtd

    and the

    ruin of

    kinsmen.

    He

    said

    'Time

    and

    again

    at the

    daY's

    dawning

    I

    must

    mourn

    all my

    affictions

    alone.

    ro

    There

    is no

    one

    still

    living to

    whom

    I

    dare open

    The

    doors

    of

    my heart.

    I

    have

    no doubt

    That

    it is

    a

    noble

    habit

    for

    a man

    To

    bind

    fast all

    his

    heart's

    feelings

    with silence,

    Whatever

    his

    impulse,

    his inclinations.

    rs

    The

    ''r#mf;ltit

    cannot

    withstand

    fate;

    Nothing

    comes of

    rankling

    resentment.

    For

    this

    reason

    any

    man ambitious

    for

    renown

    Confines

    his

    unhappiness

    to

    his

    own

    heart.

    i

    =

    tD

    o

    g

    @

    o

    o

    o

    o

    o

    E

    e.

    o

    U'

    P.

    o

    r

    -l

    =

    @

    o

    o

    -

    o

    d

    -

    p

    {

    o

    .:@

    o

    n,

    ,a

    ii>

    r:{

    :.

    3

    o

    g

    o

    E

    "o

    o

    s

    So

    ever

    since the

    day

    I

    covered

    my

    gold-friend

    ,-

    zo

    With

    dark clods

    of

    earth,I

    have

    had to

    keep

    tr"-

    My

    thoughts

    to

    myself, and

    this

    despite

    my

    grief,

    rrie

    Cut

    off

    from

    free

    kinsmen,

    so

    far

    awaY

    t&{nt

    From

    my

    own

    dear

    country;

    for I left

    that

    land,

    d"

    F-

    FloueheC

    the

    icy

    waves with

    winter

    in my

    heart;

    ,u

    In

    utter

    dejection

    I

    journeyed

    far

    and

    wide

    Hunting

    for

    the

    hall

    of

    a

    generous

    gold-giver.

    .

    . .

    For a

    man

    who would

    welcome

    me into

    his mead'hall,

    Give

    me

    good

    cheer,

    (for

    I boasted

    no

    friends)

    Entertain

    me with delights.

    He

    who

    has

    experienced

    it

    go

    Knows

    what

    a cruel

    companion

    sorrow

    can

    be

    To

    any

    man

    who

    has

    few loyal

    friends.

    For him are

    the

    ways

    of

    exile,

    in no

    wise twisted

    gold

    For him

    is a

    frozen

    body,

    in

    no

    wise the

    fruits of

    the

    earth

    He remembers

    hall-retainers

    and

    how

    in

    his

    youth

    gs

    He

    had taken

    treasure

    from

    the

    hands of

    his

    gold-friend

    After

    the

    feast.

    Those

    joys

    have

    all

    vanished.

    A

    man

    who lacks advice

    fo

    a

    long whilg

    From

    his

    lord and

    friend

    lives

    thus

    in his loneliness:

    In restless sleep

    he

    dreams that

    he

    clasps

    -'#i9

    And

    kisses

    his lord,

    and

    lays

    hands and

    head

    Upon

    his lord's

    knee

    just

    as

    he

    had done

    When he approached' the

    gt-throne

    previously.

    Then the

    lonely

    wanderer

    wakes again

    And

    sees

    the

    dark waves surging

    around

    him,

    The

    sea-birds bathing

    and

    spreading their

    feathers,

    Snow

    flakes falling

    mingled

    with

    hail.

    Then

    his

    wounds lie more heavy

    in-his

    heart,

    Aching

    for

    his

    lord. His

    sorrows

    are

    renewed;

    The memory

    of

    kinsmen

    sweeps

    through his mind;

    He

    welcomes them

    with

    songs, eagerly

    scans

    llis

    comrade

    warriors.

    Then

    they

    melt away

    again.

    Their

    spirits do not

    bring

    many old

    songs

    40

    THE ANGLO-SAXONS

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    To

    his

    lips. Sorrow

    and care

    constantly

    Attend

    the

    man

    who

    must

    send

    time

    and again

    His weary

    heart

    over the frozen

    waves.

    And thus I

    cannot

    understand

    why in

    the

    world

    My

    mind

    is

    not tormented-

    When i

    bood

    on

    the fate

    of

    many

    brave

    warriors,

    How

    they

    have suddenly

    had

    to

    leave

    the

    mead-hall,

    The

    bold

    friends

    and followers.

    So it is

    this world

    Day

    by day dwindles,

    and passes

    away;

    For a

    man will

    not

    be

    wise

    until

    he has

    suffered

    His share of winters in

    the

    world.

    A wise

    man

    must

    be

    patient,

    Neither

    passionate

    nor

    hasty

    of speech,

    Neither rash

    nor

    irresolute in

    battle;

    He should not

    be

    timid, despairing,

    grasping,

    And never eager

    to

    boast

    before

    he

    can

    implement

    it.

    When it is

    his turn

    to

    boast

    a man

    must

    bide his time

    Uniil he has

    no doubt

    in his brave heart

    That he

    has

    resolved

    upon

    tlre

    right

    action.

    A

    wise man must

    fathom

    how frightening

    it

    will

    be

    When

    a]l

    the riches

    of

    the world

    stand waste,

    As now

    in

    diverse

    places

    in

    this middle.earth

    ld

    walls

    stand, tugged

    at by the winds

    And

    hung

    with

    hoar-frost,

    buildings in decay.

    The

    wine-halls

    crumble,

    heartbroken

    lords

    Lie dead,

    all

    the

    proud

    followers

    ,.,

    Have.fallen

    by

    the

    wall.

    Battle laid claim

    to some,

    Leading

    them on long

    journeys;

    the raven

    carried

    one

    ao

    High

    over the waters,

    and

    one the

    grey

    wolf

    ,:,

    Devoured;

    a war.rior

    with

    downcast

    face

    ,.,'"Thus

    the

    Creator

    laid

    this world waste

    .r-r,r[1

    the ancient

    works

    oi

    the

    giants

    were

    cieserted,

    as'Hushed without

    the

    hubbub

    of

    milling inhabitants.

    .,

    .Then

    he

    who

    contemplates

    these noble

    ruins;

    r:

    And

    who

    deeply

    ponders

    this

    dark

    life,

    :.

    Wise in his mind, will

    often remember

    The countless slaughters

    of the

    past

    and

    speak these

    words:

    ,go

    Where has

    the horse

    gone?

    Where the man?

    Where

    the

    giver

    of

    gold?

    ,.,-

    Where is

    the

    feasting-place?

    And where

    the

    pleasures

    of the

    hall?

    -.

    I

    mourn

    the

    gleaming

    cup, the warrior in

    his

    corselet,.,

    ,:,.

    The

    glory

    of

    the

    prince.

    How

    time

    has.passed

    away,

    :,

    ,

    Darkened

    under

    the shadow

    of

    night

    even

    as if it

    had never

    been.

    ss

    Where

    the

    beloved warriors *rre,

    there

    now

    stands

    a

    wall

    Of

    miraculous

    height,

    carved

    with

    serpent forms.

    ,,

    The

    savage

    ash-spears,

    avid

    forslaughter,

    .

    :,

    Have

    claimed

    all

    the

    warriors-inexorable

    fate

    Storms crash against these

    rocky

    slopes;

    roo

    Falling

    sleet

    and

    snow fetter

    the

    world;

    :

    Winter howls,

    then

    darkness

    draws

    on,

    The night-shadow

    casts

    gloom

    and brings

    I

    o

    r

    o

    a

    3

    tt

    o

    'o

    .ct

    q.

    =

    L

    .o

    .f

    ,.3.

    {

    tD

    TD

    o

    o

    r

    o

    0

    tr

    t

    I

    (o

    f

    J

    o

    E

    o

    D

    a

    o

    =.

    o

    g

    o

    (o

    JD

    o

    cr

    ='

    THE

    WANDERER

    41

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    110

    Fierce

    hailstorms

    from

    the

    north to

    frighten

    men.

    Nothing

    is

    ever

    easy

    in

    the

    kingdom

    of

    earth,

    The world

    beneath

    the

    heavens

    is in

    the

    hands

    of

    fate.

    Worldly

    possessions

    are

    ephemeral,

    friends

    pass

    away,

    Here rnan is

    transient and

    kinsman transient,

    The

    whole

    world becomes

    a

    wilderness."

    So

    spoke

    the

    wise

    man

    in his heart

    as

    he

    sat

    apart

    in secret

    thought.

    He

    who is wise

    adheres

    to hi

    beliefs;

    a

    brave

    man

    Will

    not reveal the torments in his

    heart

    Before

    he

    knows

    their

    remedy.

    It

    is

    best

    for a

    man to seek

    Comfort

    and compassion

    from

    the

    Father

    in

    Heaven

    where

    we

    will

    all

    find

    security.

    Discussion

    1. How

    do

    you

    explain the

    relationship of the beginning

    and

    ending of

    the

    poem

    to the

    rest

    of

    the

    poem?

    2.

    Beginning

    with

    line

    62

    there is a

    shift in

    the

    poem.

    How

    would

    you

    relate the

    first

    part

    of the

    poem

    to

    the latter

    part?

    Extension

    .

    Writing

    The wanderer laments

    the

    harshness

    of

    the

    world in

    which

    he

    lives.

    He

    viewed both

    human beings and

    nature

    as

    cruel.

    In

    a short

    essay, agree or

    disagree

    with

    the

    wanderer's

    view

    of

    the

    world, and state

    your

    reasons

    for

    doing

    so.

    Carpet

    pag6

    with

    lnlad

    Panels,

    The

    Book of

    Durrow

    foljl25v.

    The

    Board of Trinity College, Dublin

    THE

    ANGLO.SAXONS

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    notes

    and

    comments

    Doom

    is

    dark

    and

    deeper

    than

    any

    sea-dingle.

    Upon

    what

    man

    it

    fall

    In

    spring,

    day-wishing

    flowers

    appearing,

    Avalanche

    sliding,

    white

    snow

    from

    rock-face,

    s

    That

    he

    should

    leave

    his

    house,

    No

    cloud-soft

    hand

    can

    hold

    him,

    restraint

    by women;

    but

    ever

    that

    man

    goes

    Through place-keepers,

    through forest

    trees,

    A

    stranger

    to

    strangers

    over

    undried

    sea,

    ,

    .

    ro

    Houses

    for

    fishes,

    suffocating

    water,

    .

    Or

    lonely

    on

    fell

    as

    chat,l

    By

    pot-holed

    becks2

    ,

    A

    bird-stone-haunting,

    an unquiet

    bird.

    ;1"

    There

    head

    falls

    forward,

    fatigued

    at evening,

    '1

    And dreams

    of home,

    '

    :

    ,,

    Waving

    from

    window,

    spread

    of

    welcome

    ,

    .

    But

    waking

    sees

    '

    Bird-flocks

    nameless

    to

    him,

    through

    doorway

    voices

    o

    Of

    new

    men making another

    love.

    :

    Save

    him

    from

    hostile

    capture;

    '

    From

    sudden

    tiger's

    spring

    t corner;

    Protect

    his house,

    His anxious

    hous

    where

    days

    are

    counted

    ,is

    From

    thunderbolt

    protect,

    I

    From

    gradual

    ruin

    spreading

    like

    a

    stain;

    Converting

    number

    from

    vague

    to certain,

    Bring

    joy,

    bring

    day

    of

    his returning,

    Lucky

    with

    day

    approaching,

    with

    leaning

    dawn.

    copyright

    1934

    and

    ren.\ryed

    19a2

    by

    w.

    H. Auden. Beprinted

    from coLLEcrED

    POEMS,

    by W.

    t

    Auden,

    edited

    by dward

    lreneron,

    iy

    p;;;il;;"-;i;;d;

    1-.

    lr

    lgnely

    ,,

    .

    cr,ar,

    solitary

    as

    a

    bird

    (chat)

    on

    a

    barren

    hill

    (fe[).

    2,

    becks,

    rocky-bottomed

    streams.

    'W.

    H.

    Auden

    Discussion

    Like

    the

    Anglo-Saxon poem,

    Auden's

    expresses

    extreme

    loneliness

    and

    sadness.

    Reread

    Iines

    37-55

    of

    the

    Anglo-Saxon

    poem

    and

    show

    how

    the

    Auden

    poem is

    related.

    The

    Wanderer

    The

    enduring

    appeal

    of

    Anglo-Saxon

    poetry

    is

    revealed

    in

    its

    influence

    on

    tater

    poets.

    Tie

    earty

    poLtry r

    *i*liir^il

    lish

    poet

    W.

    H.

    Auden,

    for

    exampie,

    reec'

    ns

    apireiii1n

    of

    the

    older

    verse.

    As

    the

    title

    iuggests,

    inspira,iii

    i;;';i;;

    poem

    came

    from

    the

    Anglo-Saxon

    lyric

    of

    ihe

    same

    nu*i.

    THE

    WANDEBEB

    43