Seamus Heaney - Beowulf - Finn's Saga lyrics

They sang then and played to please the hero, Words and music for their warrior prince, Harp tunes and tales of adventure: There were high times on the hall benches And the king's poet performed his part With the saga of Finn and his sons, unfolding The tale of the fierce attack in Friesland Where Hnaef, king of the Danes, met d**h. Hildeburh Had little cause To credit the Jutes: Son and brother, She lost them both On the battlefield. She, bereft And blameless, they Foredoomed, cut down And spear-gored. She, The woman in shock, Waylaid by grief, Hoc's daughter--How could she not Lament her fate When morning came And the light broke On her murdered dears? And so farewell Delight on earth, War carried away Finn's troop of thanes, All but a few. How then could Finn Hold the line Or fight on To the end with Hengest, How save The rump of his force From that enemy chief? So a truce was offered As follows: first Separate quarters To be cleared for the Danes, Hall and throne To be shared with the Frisians. Then, second; Every day At the dole-out of gifts Finn, son of Focwald, Should honor the Danes, Bestow with an even Hand to Hengest And Hengest's men The wrought-gold rings, Bounty to match The measure he gave His own Frisians-- To keep morale In the beer-hall high. Both sides then Sealed their agreement. With oaths to Hengest Finn swore Openly, solemnly, That the battle survivors Would be guaranteed Honor and status. No infringement By word or deed, No provocation Would be permitted. Their own ring-giver After all Was dead and gone, They were leaderless In forced allegiance To his murderer. So if any Frisian Stirred up bad blood With insinuations Or taunts about this, The blade of the sword Will arbitrate it. A funeral pyre Was then prepared, Effulgent gold Brought out from the hoard. The pride and prince Of the Shieldings lay Awaiting the flame. Everywhere There were blood-plastered Coats of mail. The pyre was heaped With boar-shaped helmets Forged in gold, With the gashed corpses Of well-born Danes--Many had fallen. Then Hildeburh Ordered her own Son's body Be burnt with Hnaef's, The flesh on his bones To sputter and blaze Beside his uncle's. The woman wailed And sang keens, The warrior went up. Carca** flame Swirled and fumed, They stood round the burial Mound and howled As heads melted, Crusted gashes Spattered and ran Bloody matter. The glutton element Flamed and consumed The dead of both sides. Their great days were gone. Warriors scattered To homes and forts All over Friesland, Fewer now, feeling Loss of friends. Hengest stayed, Lived out that whole Resentful, blood-sullen Winter with Finn, Homesick and helpless. No ring-whorled prow Could up then And away on the sea. Wind and water Raged with storms, Wave and shingle Were shackled on ice Until another year Appeared in the yard As it does to this day, The seasons constant, The wonder of light Coming over us. Then winter was gone, Earth's lap grew lovely, Longing woke In the cooped-up exile For a voyage home-- But more for vengeance, Some way of bringing Things to a head: His sword arm hankered To greet the Jutes. So he did not balk Once Hunlafing Placed on his lap Dazle-the -Duel, The best sword of all, Whose edges Jutes Knew only too well. Thus blood was spilled, The gallant Finn Slain in his home After Guthlaf and Oslaf Back from their voyage Made old accusation: The brutal ambush, The fate they had suffered, All blamed on Finn. The wildness in them Had to brim over. The hall ran red With blood of enemies. Finn was cut down, The queen brought away And everything The Shieldings could find Inside Finn's walls-- The Frisian king's Gold collars and gemstones-- Swept off to the ship. Over sea-lanes then Back to Daneland The warrior troop Bore that lady home.