(no subject)
Ic þé nú ðá,


I now then you,
brego Beorht-Dena,      biddan wille,


prince of the Bright-Danes,      want to request,
eodor Scyldinga,      ánre béne:


O protector of the Scyldings,      one boon:
þæt ðú mé ne forwyrne,      wígendra hléo


that you not refuse me,      O shield of warriors,
fréowine folca,      nú ic þus feorran cóm·


liege and comrade of the folk,      now that I have come thus far;
þæt ic móte ána,      mínra eorla gedryht


that I might alone,      with my company of nobles
ond þes hearda héap,      Heorot faélsian·


and this hardy horde of warriors,      clense Heorot;
hæbbe ic éac ge-áhsod      þæt sé aéglaéca


I have also heard      that the evil creature
for his wonhýdum      waépna ne recceð·


in his recklessness      heeds not weapons;
ic þæt þonne forhicge      --swá mé Higelác síe


then I it scorn      --so that for me Hygelac may be
mín mondrihten      módes blíðe--


my liege-lord      blithe in his heart--
þæt ic sweord bere      oþðe sídne scyld


that I bear a sword      or broad shield,
geolorand tó gúþe      ac ic mid grápe sceal


yellow-rim to war,      but I with my grip shall
fón wið féonde      ond ymb feorh sacan,


fight with this fiend      and over life strive,
láð wið láþum·      ðaér gelýfan sceal


enemy against enemy;      there must trust in
dryhtnes dóme      sé þe hine déað nimeð·


the judgement of the Lord,      whichever one that Death takes;
wén' ic þæt hé wille      gif hé wealdan mót


I expect that he will wish,      if he can compass it,
in þaém gúðsele      Géotena léode


in the war-hall,      the Geatish people
etan unforhte      swá hé oft dyde,


to devour fearlessly,      as he often did,
mægenhréð manna.      Ná þú mínne þearft


the force of glorious warriors.      You will have no need for my
hafalan hýdan      ac hé mé habban wile


head to shroud,      but rather he will have me
déore fahne      gif mec déað nimeð


fiercely stained with gore,      if me Death takes,
byreð blódig wæl·      byrgean þenceð·


he will bear my bloody corpse;      he aims to bite,
eteð ángenga      unmurnlíce·


the lone prowler eats      unmournfully,
mearcað mórhopu·      nó ðú ymb mínes ne þearft


marking the limits of his moor enclosures;      nor will you for the needs of my
líces feorme      leng sorgian.


body's funeral-provisions      have any further concern.
Onsend Higeláce      gif mec hild nime


Send to Hygelac,      if I am taken by battle,
beaduscrúda betst      þæt míne bréost wereð,


the best of battle-shrouds,      the one that protects my breast,
hrægla sélest·      þæt is Hraédlan láf


choicest of garments;      that is Hrethel's relic,
Wélandes geweorc.      


Wayland's work. 


Skeptics in the Pub Cambridge now up and running

Note the forthcoming talk from Simon Singh on 24 November.

As most of you know, I only really use LJ for reading other people's stuff, so don't rely on SitP stuff appearing here - there is the Facebook group, and I assume at some stage there will be a mailing list, otherwise keep watching the website above...

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"Quoique ayant beaucoup lu, j'ai bu davantage. J'ai écrit beaucoup moins que la plupart des gens qui écrivent; mais j'ai bu beaucoup plus que la plupart des gens qui boivent." - Guy Debord


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