​The Wonder-Father      wields the fate
Of all mankind     and I must move
Beyond this middle-yard.      For a hundred
Half-years, I guarded     the Geats with Hrunting’s
Blade, the strongest     sword. I gored
Grendel, defeated     his devil-mother
Who bore him in     the dark moors.
They were kin to the giants     who ruled middle-yard
In the long gone days     a bad clan.
They lived for man-slaughter     until I laid them low
Wrecked their plunder-plans     tore their limbs to pieces.
They did not welcome     Hrunting’s harm.
Before I ended     their blood-thirst, Grendel
Murdered Aeschere     and many good Danes.
I came to save     our friends in Dane-land
Sailed the swan-road     with many thanes.
Hrothgar, the Danes’     king, lost his strength
When too many years     in middle-yard
Weakened his weapons     stopped his strong spear.
He was a good king.     Every man must
Face his fate     and welcome a younger
Hearth-companion     with hearty arms.
 
Hrothgar helped     my father, Ecglaf
In the old days     and when I watched
The burial ship     carry my father
Over the whale-road     with all his weapons,
Sailing off to Elsewhere     until the ship
Was a small gull     on the haze-horizon,
I boasted in my mind     never to shame
Ecglaf, as he never     shamed our kin.
I gave my word     to help his friends
Far over the waves     and I helped our own
Folk, the Geats     a good tribe.
I never killed my kin     never failed my father’s
Friends never harmed     a hostage, never
Had to pay wergild.
 
When Ecglaf’s burial     ship disappeared
I stood on the sea-cliff     alone with my thought-hoard
And boasted not to follow     the Swedes, those plunder-swine
Or those war-wolves     the battle-hungry Heatho-bards
Always taking treasure     sailing their ships
Only to capture women     to pillage the mead-halls
Of peaceful tribes.     I protected the women
Of the Geats and the Danes     honored their queens
Never used the strength     of my arms to hound
The weak and those who bore     the burden of many half-years.
This was the Wonder-father’s will     and I can boast now
That I was a hostage     only to him.
 
Last night in the mead-hall     with Wiglaf and the young thanes
I boasted before     the women to kill the dragon.
He woke from his     long sleep, discovered
His treasure plundered.     Flaming with fury
He scorched the crops     and the folk-farms
Harmed the honey-hives     wreaked havoc
Melted the bone-houses     of warriors not ready to die
Caused the Geat people     to suffer and starve.
A human stole     his treasure, a well-wrought
Cup of gold. It lay     in the dragon’s trove
For hundreds of winters     as the dragon slept;
His fire-furnace slumbered.     It is wrong for a man
To steal another’s treasure.     He brought shame
To the Geats, fed     the slaughter-wolves
Brought horror back.     Singing stopped
In the mead-hall.     The Wonder-father
Does not wish this.
 
But I was the first     to boast from the mead-bench
With Wiglaf and the young     thanes as the women watched
Shaking with fear     as they smelled the stench
Of burning bones     heard the hiss of angry wings.
I unlocked the word-hoard     “I will kill the dragon.”
I shouted, holding     Hrunting high.
I gave courage to Wiglaf     of the Waegmundings
To the other young thanes;     though terror rattled
Their life-houses, they stood     one by one, boasted
Before the women     “I will kill the dragon
I will slay him with     my strong ash spear
Tear him to pieces     with my slaughter-sword
Wrought for my father     by skillful smiths.”
We all boasted and a man     must never betray his boast
Not break his word     to the women.
 
Tomorrow when the world-candle     wrings light from the dream-den
I must face my fate.     Though my bone-house has weakened
With the weight     of too many winters,
As Hrothgar’s did when     I came to save the Danes,
I will breathe bold     breaths, hold Hrunting
Until both hands fail     stab the dragon deep
In his fire-belly     though he burns me
With the power     of a funeral pyre.
The wood-workers will      build my burial-ship
But first I will deal     the dragon’s death-blow
Though I may weaken     and need help from Wiglaf
Help from the young thanes     wielding old weapons
The ones who will guard     the women when I am gone.  
 
I will give up my life-house     for the Geat folk
Wiglaf of the Waegmundings     will be their good king
A young warden     true in his words.
I will sail off     to Elsewhere
With Hrunting beside me      in my burial-boat
On my last voyage     over the gull-waves.
It is my fate     to face the fire
The Wonder-father knows     I have kept my word.