Wednesday, September 15, 2010

The Wanderer

"Often before the day dawned I have had to speak of my cares, alone: there is now none among the living to whom I dare clearly express the thought of my heart. I know indeed that it is a fine custom for a man to lock tight his heart's coffer, keep closed the hoard-case of his mind, whatever his thoughts may be. Words of a weary heart may not withstand fate, nor those of an angry spirit bring help. Therefore men eager for fame shut sorrowful thought up fast in their breast's coffer.

...

Then the wounds are deeper in his heart, sore for want of his dear one. His sorrow renews as the memory of his kinsmen moves through his mind...
Therefore I cannot think why the thoughts of my heart should not grow dark when I consider all the life of men through this world - with what terrible swiftness they forgo the hall-floor, bold young retainers. So this middle-earth each day fails and falls.

...

Here wealth is fleeting, here friend is fleeting, here man is fleeting, here woman is fleeting - all this earthly habitation shall be emptied."

-From the Exeter Book, 975 A.D.