The Wanderer: a translation with commentary (2023)

by Thomas Hunnisett

Polyphony, Volume 2, Issue 2, First published April 2020, Manchester

the Walker(1-50)

"The lonely always remains,

His spirit is fearful, waiting for God's mercy.

The billowing waves drift far away;

Stir the frozen sea with your own hands.

On the way to his exile - 5

immutable destiny.”

Thus spoke the digger;

Remembering the misery of slaughter,

Enemies and beloved relatives flee.

"Only in each sunrise 10

I have to regret my grief.

Now no one lives

To whom would I dare to openly express my heart.

I know it's true

than a man of real worth 15

You must bind your thoughts quickly,

You must keep closed the treasures of your heart,

You must think as you please.

But my weary heart cannot resist fate;

Even my troubled mind is no help. twenty

Therefore, like those who seek glory

Often tying sadness to their breasts

So I had to check closely.

Always away from friends

Homeless. 25

I must bind these thoughts with chains.

It has been like this for a long time;

When I had to bury my lord -

I had to cover my ring giver with dark soil

and then, despondent, leave this place forever. 30

Then I walked on the waves in the winter blues.

Homesick, I searched for a gentleman far away

A mead hall you could call your own;

A place for my friendless self to be known

To be consoled and seduced with joy.” 35

The wise know how cruel it is

Having pain as the only companion.

He who walks the path of exile with a frozen mind,

Don't live a golden life

Don't have any worldly gifts. 40

He remembers the hall brothers of his youth,

And his golden friend who gives gifts,

Who would entertain and party!

Happiness is gone now.

Now you know you quit - 45

All the wise teachings of your kind Lord.

Then sadness and sleep combine

And the lonely wretch is held by the thoughts of his master.

It seems that she hugs him and kisses him,

Put your head and hands on your knees. fifty

As in times past -

Like old times -

While enjoying the gifts from the throne room.

He then wakes up again, a friendless man.

He sees sea birds bathing in front of him, 55

In the boundless expanse of dark water,

Its feather-tipped wings are outstretched.

How falling snow and hail mix to form frost.

Then the wounds in her heart get worse

It hurts as he longs for his beloved. 60

His pain is renewed.

the Walkeris an Old English poem surviving in only one of the four main surviving Anglo-Saxon manuscripts,the exeter book, and although its basic structure and elegiac tone are widely recognized, the exact nature of the speech and the number of speakers within the poem remain the subject of debate (see note 1). In general, as with all Old English poetry, the precise manner in which the piece would have originally been performed and the circumstances of its reception remain obscure, although there is likely an element of oral tradition. With this in mind, any translator approaching the poem must be prepared to make certain assumptions and allowances in preparing it for a modern audience; It is these aspects of translation that my commentary will reflect on.

Any translator approaching Old English poetry must first decide what type of translation to attempt. The different translations almost always fall somewhere on a scale from the literal to the figurative; at one end it would be a literal Modern English transcription of the original, while at the other it would be something like W.H. Auden's 1930 poemthe Walker' (see Note 2). which, though it shares a title with Old English Elegy, has little in common save its tone and themes. In this context, my translation attempts to find something of a "middle ground" by using modern syntax, punctuation, and structure, to make it easier for a 21 Ton reader.

The most obvious visual change between my translation and the original is the use of stanzas to divide the main body of the poem into smaller sections. I didn't try to follow any particular rule or formula structure when choosing where a verse begins or ends. Rather, like a paragraph in prose writing, they were used to distinguish individual points or ideas. This serves to make the translation more accessible to a contemporary audience and was a conscious attempt to make the text less imposing and difficult to parse. This is in contrast to other translations, such as those by scholars Richard Hamer (see note 3) and Greg Delanty (see note 4), which, in addition to the quality of the translation, can be overwhelming to an inexperienced reader due to their unbroken content. structure. In addition, dividing the poem into stanzas allows more emphasis on certain concepts or images; Of particular interest here are lines 36-7 of my translation: “The wise know how cruel it is | Having pain as the only companion. By limiting the stanza to just these two lines, the solitary image evoked by the diction is complemented by the lines themselves which are isolated from the rest of the text.

However, this is not to say that this method is bug-free, and as Bruce Mitchell points out, using "a punctuation system designed for a completely different language" can "distort [the] flow of OE passages in both" contribute prose and poetry. ” (see note 5). In this case, the use of this style of syntax causes the poem to lose its deliberately written atmosphere and thus sacrifices an element of its dramatic impact. Furthermore, the inclusion of stanzas further separates the audience from the oral tradition from which the poem seems to derive; as such, certain strange or different elements, which may have drawn the reader to the poem in the first place, are also lost in translation.

However, the use of stanzas is not the only significant "modernization" of the poem that I have made. As mentioned above, questions about how many speakers are active and what lineages can be assigned to what are some of the most fruitful debates among scholars. By putting verses 1-6 and 10-35 in quotation marks, it becomes clearer which verses belong to the poet and which to the 'eardstapa' (dirt poker) (the Walker, 6) - whom I consider one of the three speakers of the poem - and the one of the 'anhaga' (the lonely one) (the Walker, 1) mentioned in the first line. Burton Raffel, in his translation of the poem, uses quotation marks to similar effect to make his interpretation of it clearer. He does so by enclosing lines 8-85, thus clarifying the distinction between the poet's first lines and the monologue, which he assigns to another speaker: a 'lone traveller' (see note 6). readingthe WalkerSince there are three speakers, it is perhaps less common than interpretations favoring one or two speakers, but it is not without precedent. Above all, it was that of J.R.R. Tolkien in his notes to the poem, in which he says "theground passnot identical to thatanhagafrom line 1: it is a similar case introduced as an illustration” (see note 7). My translation distinguishes lines 1-6 and 10-35 with punctuation to give each of these speakers a more clearly defined place within the text. Importantly, however, an element of uncertainty surrounding the original remains, as my translation could still be read as referring to only two speakers and the "Anhaga" could be conflated with the "Eardstapa". It seems unlikely that a definitive answer as to how many speakers there are in the poem will ever be reached, and so retaining the ability to interpret the poem in a variety of ways was an important consideration.

Beyond the general choice of punctuation and grammar used, we can now begin to examine the language used and analyze the translation in more detail line by line. An attempt was made to set the tone of the translation early on by adding the line "Oft him ānhaga are gebīdeð" (the Walker, 1) as “The lonely always remains”; although a literal translation might be something like "The lonely one often experiences". First, by deciding to change "Often" from the more literal translation "Often" to "Always", this translation unfortunately removes the element of litotes that is present in the original and therefore could be seen as a distraction from the work. original. The change, however, emphasizes the inescapable nature of the exile of the 'ānhaga' and thus lends a more definitive air to the rest of the stanza; The implicit hope that "often" would convey to a contemporary reader is removed. This sense of finality and hopelessness is further reinforced by the translation of "gebīdeð" as "last"; this was inspired in part by Greg Delanty, who opens his translation of the poem with the line "The lonely awaits grace" (see note 8), which I think effectively conveys the image of an exile grimly awaiting his fate.

This concept of the relentless "Wyrd" (fate) (the Walker, 5) is not uncommon in Old English writings; is mentioned in itBeowulfseveral times, notably when Beowulf himself comments before his fight with Grendel: "Gaéð á wyrd swá hío scel" (Fate always turns out as it should) (Beowulf, 455) and seems to reflect the more fatalistic Anglo-Saxon understanding of temporal existence. Although it should be noted that the representation of "Wyrd" in the clearly Christian texts ofBeowulfythe Walkerit is, as B. J. Timmer writes, not that of a "blind and hostile fate that rules the lives of men," but "an inevitability... subject to God" (see note 9). Perhaps it is this distinctly Anglo-Saxon mentality that makes this topic so intriguing, and the last line of the first stanza of my translation is an attempt to convey that. Splitting the Old English line 'wadan wræclāstas. Wyrd bið ful ārǣd’ (Itinerant routes of exile. Fate fully determined) (the Walker, 5) and by providing the second stanza with its own verse, emphasis is placed on the importance and irreversibility of destiny. Similarly, I chose to shorten the line to simply read "immutable fate" instead of the more verbose but linguistically accurate "fully determined fate" to make this point more succinct and punchy. Here too I owe a debt of gratitude to another scholar, Richard Hamer, who translated the phrase as "fate is inexorable" (see note 10), an interpretation I found powerful in its simplicity and wished to emulate.

As mentioned above, one of the goals of this translation was to attempt to convey elements of the original Old English diction to modern readers. A distinctive feature of Old English is the use of kennings, compound expressions with specific metaphorical meanings such as "hron-rād" (way of the whales) (Beowulf, 10) means the sea. None of the translations to which I have already referred seemed particularly concerned with preserving this device (see note 11). This surprised me because, as James Rankin points out, kennings "constitute an important element in the style of Anglo-Saxon poetry" (see note 12) and therefore I tried to communicate Old English diction using this device.

One particular case where this shows up in my translation is line 42, where the Old English "goldwine" (the Walker, 35) was literally translated as "friend of gold", although perhaps a more appropriate modern word would be "lord" or "ruler". By retaining this element of the original, not only is some aspect of Old English unfamiliarity and strangeness conveyed, but one must pause for a moment to reflect and deduce the meaning of the phrase; almost as if it were a little mystery in itself. Furthermore, this very example gives the reader some insight into the nature of the relationship between lord and servant in Anglo-Saxon culture. A similar effect is achieved in line 29 of my translation, where the same phrase "Goldwein" (the Walker, 22) – is translated as “Ringgeber”, which is in turn a literal translation of another Anglo-Saxon kenning “béahgifan” (the battle of maldon, 290) with a very similar meaning. These two examples convey to the reader that rather than being a distant figure one is obligated to serve, which might imply in a modern understanding of the term, a lord is someone who is individually devoted to and bestows gifts in return. . This suggests a much more personal relationship and helps the contemporary reader understand why the Lord's death is so central to the "Anhaga" and leads directly to his exile.

Another important aspect of Anglo-Saxon culture that I tried to convey throughout the translation was the symbolic importance of nature and, in particular, the role of the sea as a unique place of solitude. Exile was one of the worst punishments that could be inflicted on an Anglo-Saxon, and the true gravity of the situation is difficult for a modern reader to comprehend. In order to emphasize the miserable nature of the exile of “Anhaga”, I have been especially careful not to express any modern romantic notions of desert or desert in the translation.

The penultimate stanza of the translation reflects this best. Here the sea is described in a language that, while maintaining the tone of Old English, further emphasizes the arid nature of the landscape surrounding Exile. While the original simply describes "fealwe wēgas" (dark waves) (the Walker, 46), instead of referring to "the limitless expanse of the dark waters", the translation takes this image a little further. The reason for translating "wēgas" as "water" instead of the more precise word "waves" is to discourage any imagery of grandiose seascapes. The image he wanted to convey was more of a flat, dark plain of water that stretches as far as the eye can see, disturbed only by the movement of seabirds on its surface, a perfect reflection of the utter solitude of exile.

In addition to describing the sea itself, my translation also retains the element of pathetic error present in Old English. The line "hrēosan hrīm ond snāw, hagle gemenged" (falling frost and snow mixed with hail) (the Walker, 48) translates as "falling snow and hail mingle in frost" which, while remaining very close to the original, changes the verb "gemenged" to the present tense "mischen" and thus creates an image of the wanderer himself, who, due to covered by frost becomes bad weather. This is another image seen elsewhere in Old English poetry, viz.Wife's demand, in which the narrator describes his lover as being "storme behrīmed" (frost covered by the storm) (Wife's demand, 48) and the wording of my translation is a conscious attempt to evoke this distinctly Anglo-Saxon image in the reader's mind.

In conclusion, the stated goal of my translation was to attempt to transcribe Old English diction and tone.the Walkerin a way that would be attractive to a modern reader. Translations by other scholars helped me in this; However, I have tried to achieve something unique by employing modern forms of grammar and punctuation, while using phrases and images that, if not taken from the source text, would be representative of the themes and motifs addressed that are present in the Anglo-Saxon literature. and the culture as a whole.

references

1:Stanley B. Greenfield, „The Tramp“: A Reconsideration of Theme and Structure“,Journal of English and German Philology(Beyondi p) (Bd. 50, Nr. 4, 1951) S. 451-65.

Robert Björk, "Sundor Æt Rune: The Voluntary Exile of the Tramp"neophile(Bd. 73, Nr. 1, 1989) p. 119-29.

Robert Lumiansky, "The Dramatic Structure of the Old English Tramp",neophile(Bd. 34, Nr. 1, 1950) p. 104-12.

2:WH Auden,collected poemsedition by Edward Mendelson (London: Penguin Random House, 2007), p. 62.

3:"The Wanderer", trans. Ricardo Hamer, inA selection of Anglo-Saxon verses(BeyondASV) (London: Faber, 2006), S. 176-85.

4:"The Wanderer", trans. Greg Delanty, inThe Word Exchange: Anglo-Saxon Poems in Translation, edited by Greg Delanty and Michael Matto (hereinafterTWE) (London: Norton, 2011), p. 57-6

5:Bruce Mitchell, „The Perils of Disguise: Old English Texts in Modern Interpunk“,English Studies Review(Bd. 31, Nr. 124, 1980) S. 385–413 (S. 25–6).

6:"The Wanderer", trans. Burton Raffel, inOld English prose and poems, edited by Burton Raffel and Alexandra H. Olson (hereinafterPOE) (Londres: Yale University Press, 1998) S. 7-9.

7:Stuart D. Lee, "J.R.R. Tolkien and the Wanderer: From Edition to Application",Tolkien Studies(Bd. 6, Nr. 1, 2009) S. 189-211 (S. 200).

8:"The Wanderer", trans. Greg Delanty inTWE(S. 57).

9:B.J. Timmer, "Wyrd in Anglo-Saxon Prose and Poetry",neophile(Bd. 26, Nr. 1, 1941) S. 24-33 (S. 25).

10:"The Wanderer", trans. Richard hammer aASV(art. 176).

11:"The Wanderer", trans. Greg Delanty inTWE.

"The Wanderer", trans. Richard hammer aASV.

"The Vagabundo", trans. Burton Raffel aPOE.

12:James Walter Rankin, "A Study of Kennings in Anglo-Saxon Poetry",i p(Bd. 8, Nr. 3, 1909) S. 357-422 (S. 359).