Friday, 6 March 2015

Dikt; Durham (Anglo-Saxon Poem, unknown author)

This city is celebrated  
In the whole empire of the Britons.  
The road to it is steep.  
It is surrounded with rocks,  
And with curious plants.         5 
The Wear flows round it,  
A river of rapid waves;  
And there live in it  
Fishes of various kinds,  
Mingling with the floods.         10 
And there grow  
Great forests;  
There live in the recesses  
Wild animals of many sorts;  
In the deep valleys         15 
Deer innumerable.  
There is in this city  
Also well known to men  
The venerable St. Cudberth;  
And the head of the chaste King         20 
Oswald, the lion of the Angli;  
And Aiden, the Bishop:  
Aedbert and Aedfrid,  
The noble associates.  
There is in it also         25 
Aethelwold, the Bishop;  
And the celebrated writer Bede;  
And the Abbot Boisil,  
By whom the chaste Cudberth  
Was in his youth gratis instructed;         30 
Who also well received the instructions.  
There rest with these saints,  
In the inner part of the Minster,  
Relicks innumerable,  
Which perform many miracles,         35 
As the chronicles tell us,  
And which await with them  
The judgment of the Lord.  


2 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Durham var et av flere dikt jeg var borti da jeg hadde et emne på uni hvor vi hadde om levende historier og døde språk (jepp, satt og fiklet med gammel-norsk, gammel-engelsk og latin). :-P

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