Charm against a Sudden Stitch in the Side

	Loud were they, lo ! loud, when they rode over the hill,

	Resolute were they when they rode over the land.

	Fend thyself now, that thou mayest survive this violence !

	Out, little spear, if herein thou be !

5	I stood under the targe, beneath a light shield,

	Where the mighty women made ready their strength

	And sent whizzling spears;

	I will send them back another

	Flying arrow in their faces.

10	Out, little spear, if herein it be !

	The smith sat, forged his little knife,

	Sore smitten with iron.

	Out, little spear, if herein thou be !

	Six smiths sat, wrought war-spears.

15	Out, spear, not in, spear !

	If herein be aught of iron,

	Work of witch, it shall melt.

	If thou wert shot in the skin, or if thou wert shot in the flesh,

	Or if thou wert shot in the blood, or if thou wert shot in the bone,

20	Or if thou wert shot in the limb, thy life shall never be harmed.

	If it were shot of gods, or if it were shot of elves,

	Or if it were shot of witch, now I will help thee.

	This to relieve thee from shot of gods, this to relieve thee from shot of 		elves,

	This to relieve thee from shot of witch; I will help thee.

25	Flee to the mountain-head,

	Be thou whole; May the Lord help thee.

Take then the knife; plunge it into the liquid.



Translated by R.K.Gordon (Anglo-Saxon Poetry Selected and Translated. London 1934)