 |
 |
You should see the original line. Heany solves it by writing three lines where I write one and a half. Though perhaps a happier solution will occur to me. Anyway, what's wrong with being strong and noble? It's an epic poem, innit? On Tue, Nov 25, 2008 at 7:52 AM, David Bircumshaw <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > Alison, Alison, what on earth are you doing? > Can you imagine yourself, in a poem by yourself, writing sentences > like 'He was the strongest of men,/ and noble.' > > Come off it lass!! > > it's risible, and you can do better than that. > > > All the Best > > Dave > > 2008/11/24 Alison Croggon <[log in to unmask]>: >> III >> >> >> The son of Half-Dane brooded on sorrow. >> Wise and strong, woe beat him down, >> the hate too strong, the strife too constant, >> too cruel the hurts that battered his people, >> this enemy filling the night with terror. >> >> Then Hygelac's thane, beloved of the Geats, >> heard of Grendel. He was the strongest of men, >> and noble. At once he ordered a good ship, >> and said he would sail the swan's road >> and bring his warriors to this war-king. >> Dear as he was to them, no one hindered him: >> far-sighted men studied the omens >> and urged him on. From the Geat people >> he chose champions, and fifteen together >> he led them down to the wave-fretted shore. >> Under the cliffs their sleek ship waited >> where currents curled the sea against sand, >> and the sea-skilled fighters, bold and impatient, >> stepped up to its prow. >> >> Into its breast they bore bright weapons, >> worthy war-gear, and then thrust out >> in a well-braced ship eager for venture, >> the wind urging their foam-necked bird >> over the waves. >> On the second day >> the seafarers saw their journey's ending, >> shining sea-cliffs and wide headlands. >> Thanking God for a smooth crossing >> swiftly the warriors moored their ship >> and stepped onto land, their mail-shirts rattling. >> From his sea-cliff walls the Scyldings warden >> saw them bear their bright-bossed shields >> and battle-gear over the gangplank, >> and wondered aloud, who were these men? >> He rode to the shore and shook his spear >> and fiercely asked them, in formal words: >> "What manner of men are you, mail-wearers, >> who set your tall keel thus to the waves >> and this way come? What is your business?" >> >> He was the sea-guard. Under his watch >> no enemies landed unseen in Denmark >> to ravage the coast. >> >> "Never before in all my time >> have I seen shieldbearers land with less guile, >> although you have neither word nor leave >> of our war-makers, nor our kinsmen. >> Nor have I seen a mightier lord >> than this helmed man who stands before me. >> He's no churl dressed up in fine armour >> unless his looks belie his nature. >> Now I demand to hear your names >> and your lineage, or you will be labelled >> spies in Denmark. Strangers, hear me: >> plain thought and haste are best." >> >> >> >> -- >> Editor, Masthead: http://www.masthead.net.au >> Blog: http://theatrenotes.blogspot.com >> Home page: http://www.alisoncroggon.com >> > > > > -- > David Bircumshaw > Website and A Chide's Alphabet http://homepage.ntlworld.com/david.bircumshaw/ > The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html > Leicester Poetry Society: http://www.poetryleicester.co.uk > -- Editor, Masthead: http://www.masthead.net.au Blog: http://theatrenotes.blogspot.com Home page: http://www.alisoncroggon.com