Anonymous
trans. by M.L. Martin
W&E
These men
will ——— you
You don’t enlist
in the battle
They will destroy
you
should you try to resist.
Ungelīc is us.
Wulf is ——— — you’re ——— ——
Well-protected
this
island of husbands
Ungelīce
is ūs.
When the wolf
is away
you will wēnum
hogode
when the sky
is hidden
and you sit
howling
———-
———-
———-
when the battle-forged arms
bilegde
there will be
a modicum
of joy
in the midst
of your pain.
A Wulf is a wolf is an Eadwacer is a wolf.
Thinking of ———-—
will make
you sick.
A famished soul
should not be fed.
Listen now, Eadwacers:
your vile cubs
uncerne eargne hwelp
———————-
the useless
children
of this pain
are rising
wulf tō wuda
That kind of
knot
bound with
violence & anger & shame
easily
comes
undone.
Anonymous
M.L. Martin is a prize-winning poet and translator whose experimental translations of Old English can be found in Anomaly, Brooklyn Rail In Translation, The Literary Review, and Waxwing. Their poetry has appeared in Denver Quarterly, DIAGRAM, EVENT: poetry & prose, The Fiddlehead, The Massachusetts Review, PRISM international, and elsewhere. They are the recipient of the Theresa A. Wilhoit Fellowship, the Bread Loaf Translators’ Fellowship, and the Inprint Verlaine Prize in Poetry. They are currently a Tulsa Artist Fellow. Find more of their work at m-l-martin.com.