Tuesday, 17 April 2012

Rood Awakening

Syllic wæs se sigebēam, ond ic synnum fāh,  
forwunded mid wommum.  Geseah ic wuldres trēow,
wædum geweorðod wynnum scīnan,
gegyred mid golde; gimmas hæfdon
bewrigen weorðlīce wealdendes trēow.
Hwæðre ic þurh þæt gold ongytan meahte
earmra ærgewin, þæt hit ærest ongan 
swætan on þā swīðran healfe.

Sublime, the tree was, and I was foul with sin,
wounded and filthy. I saw the wondrous tree
become more beautiful, bound with streamers,
wound with gold; gems gathered
nobly covering the King's tree.
But through the gold I could glimpse,
though buried by sinfulness, that it began
to bleed on its right side.

Currently, I am working on article on an eighth century Saxon poem for my other "blog", Echoes from the Gnosis, and just wanted to share a brief quote here from "The Dream of the Rood"; both in translation and in Anglo-Saxon.  I do admit to enjoying this poem, which has somehow survived, partially inscribed on a broken stone cross in Scotland, and in a tenth century Italian book.  The wording and imagery is powerful, strong, and spellbinding.  I felt the need to share some of it here, short of going into the lengthy academic-esque discussion I tend to explore and entertain on my other blog.

MAY 2012 (Update):  Since posting this, I have posted an article which can be found here.

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