Monge sindon .mw-parser-output .wst-cesura{display:inline-block;width:2em} geond middangeard
unrīmu cynn, [þāra] þe wē æþelu ne magon
ryhte āreccan nē rīm witan;
þæs wīde sind geond wor[u]l[d] innan
5 fugla and dēora foldhrērendras,
wornas widsceope, swā wæter bibūgeð
þisne beorhtan bōsm, brim grymetende,
sealtȳpa geswing.
Of living creatures many are the kinds
Throughout the world—unnumbered, since no man
Can count their multitudes, nor rightly learn
The ways of their wild nature; wide they roam,
These beasts and birds, as far as ocean sets
A limit to the earth, embracing her
And all her sunny fields with salty seas
And toss of roaring billows.
Wē bi sumum hȳrdon
wrǣtlīc[um] gecynd[e] wildra secgan,
10 fīrum frēamǣrne, feorlondum on,
eard weardian, ēðles nēotan,
æfter dūnscrafum. Is þæt dēor Pandher
bi noman hāten, þæs þe niþþa bear[n],
wīsfæste weras, on gewritum cȳþa[ð]
15 bi þām ānstapan.
We have heard
From men of wider lore of one wild beast,
Wonderful dweller in a far-off land
Renowned of men, who loves his native glens
And dusky caverns. Him have wise men called
The panther, and in books have told of him,
The solitary rover.
Sē is ǣ[g]hwām frēond,
duguða ēstig, būtan dracan ānum;
þām hē in ealle tīd andwrāð leofaþ,
þurh yfla gehwylc þe hē geæfnan mæg.
He is kind,
A bounteous friend to every living thing
Save one alone, the dragon; but with him
The panther ever lives at enmity,
Employing every means within his power
To work him evil.
Ðæt is wrǣtlīc dēor, wundrum scȳne,
20 hīwa gehwylces. Swā hæleð secgað,
gǣsthālge guman, þætte Iōsēphes
tunece wǣre telga gehwylces
blēom bregdende, þāra beorhtra gehwylc,
ǣghwæs ǣnlīcra, ōþrum līxte
25 dryhta bearnum, swā þæs dēores hīw,
blǣc, brigda gehwæs, beorhtra and scȳnra
wundrum līxeð, þætte wrǣtlīcra
ǣghwylc ōþrum, ǣnlīcra gīen
and fǣgerra, frætwum blīceð,
30 symle sellīcra.
Fair is he, full bright
And wonderful of hue. The holy scribes
Tell us how Joseph's many-colored coat,
Gleaming with varying dyes of every shade,
Brilliant, resplendent, dazzled all men's eyes
That looked upon it. So the panther's hues
Shine altogether lovely, marvelous,
While each fair color in its beauty glows
Ever more rare and charming than the rest.
Hē hafað sundorgecynd,
milde, gemetfæst. Hē is monþwǣre,
lufsum and lēoftæl: nele lāþes wiht
ǣ[ng]um geæfnan būtan þām āttorsceaþan,
his fyrngeflitan, þe ic ǣr fore sægde.
His wondrous character is mild, and free
From all disturbing passion. Gracious, kind,
And full of love, he meditates no harm
But to that venomous foe, as I have told,
His ancient enemy.
35 Symle, fylle fægen, þonne fōddor þigeð,
æfter þām gereordum ræste sēceð,
dȳgle stōwe under dūnscrafum;
ðǣr se þēo[d]wiga þrēonihta fæc
swifeð on swe[o]fote, slǣpe gebiesga[d].
40 Þonne ellenrōf ūp āstondeð,
þrymme gewelga[d], on þone þriddan dæg,
snēome of slǣpe. Swēghlēoþor cymeð,
wōþa wynsumast, þurh þæs wildres mūð;
æfter pære stefne stenc ūt cymeð
45 of þām wongstede — wynsumra stēam,
swēttra and swīþra, swæcca gehwylcum,
wyrta blōstmum and wudublēdum,
eallum æþelīcra eorþan frætw[um].
Þonne of ceastrum and cynestōlum
50 and of burgsalum beornþrēat monig
farað foldwegum folca þrȳþum;
ēoredcystum, ofestum gefȳsde,
dareðlācende —dēor [s]wā some—
æfter þǣre stefne on þone stenc farað.
Once he has rejoiced
His heart with feasting, straight he finds a nook
Hidden among dim caves, his resting-place.
There three nights' space, in deepest slumber wrapped,
The people's champion lies. Then, stout of heart,
The third day he arises fresh from sleep,
Endowed with glorv. From the creature's mouth
Issues a melody of sweetest strains;
And close upon the voice a balmy scent
Fills all the place—an incense lovelier,
Sweeter, and abler to perfume the air,
Than any odor of an earthly flower
Or scent of woodland fruit, more excellent
Than all this world's adornments. Then from town
And palace, then from castle-hall, come forth
Along the roads great troops of hurrying men—
The very beasts come also; all press on
Toward that sweet odor, when the voice is stilled.
55 Swā is Dryhten God, drēama Rǣdend,
eallum ēaðmēde ōþrum gesceaftum,
duguða gehwylcre, būtan dracan ānum,
āttres ordfruman— þæt is se ealda fēond
þone hē gesǣlde in sūsla grund,
60 and gefetrade fȳrnum tēagum,
biþeahte þrēanȳdum; and þȳ þriddan dæge
of dīgle ārās, þæs þe hē dēað fore ūs
þrēo niht þolade, Þēoden engla,
sigora Sellend. Þæt wæs swēte stenc,
65 wlitig and wynsum, geond woruld ealle.
Siþþan tō þām swicce sōðfæste men,
on healfa gehwone, hēapum þrungon
geond ealne ymbhwyrft eorþan scēat[a].
Swā se snottra gecwæð Sanctus Paulus:
70 ‘Monigfealde sind geond middangeard
gōd ungnȳðe þe ūs tō giefe dǣleð
and tō feorhnere Fæder ælmihtig,
and se ānga Hyht ealra gesceafta
uppe ge niþre.’ Þæt is æþele stenc.
Such as this creature is the Lord our God,
Giver of joys, to all creation kind,
To men benignant, save alone to him,
The dragon, author of all wickedness,
Satan, the ancient adversary whom,
Fettered with fire, shackled with dire constraint,
Into the pit of torments God cast down.
The third day Christ arose from out the grave,
For three nights having suffered death for us,
He, Lord of angels, he in whom alone
Is hope of overcoming. Far and wide
The tidings spread, like perfume fresh and sweet,
Through all the world. Then to that fragrance thronged
From every side all men whose hearts were true,
Throughout the regions of the circled earth.
Thus spoke the wise St. Paul: 'In all the world
His gifts are many, which he gives to us
For our salvation with unstinting hand,
Almighty Father, he, the only Hope
Of all in heaven or here below on earth.'
This is that noble fragrance, rare and sweet,
Which draws all men to seek it from afar.