The Ruin

	  Splendid this rampart is, though fate destroyed it, 

	  The city buildings fell apart, the works
		   
	  Of giants crumble. Tumbled are the towers

	  Ruined the roofs, and broken the barred gate,

5	  Frost in the plaster, all the ceilings gape,

	  Torn and collapsed and eaten up by age.

	  And grit holds in its grip, the hard embrace

	  Of earth, the dead-departed master-builders,

	  Until a hundred generations now

10	  Of people have passed by. Often this wall

	  Stained red and grey with lichen has stood by

	  Surviving storms while kingdoms rose and fell.

	  And now the high curved wall itself has fallen.

	  ..............................................

15	  The heart inspired, incited to swift action.

	  Resolute masons, skilled in rounded building

	  Wondrously linked the framework with iron bonds.

	  The public halls were bright, with lofty gables,

	  Bath-houses many; great the cheerful noise,

20	  And many mead-halls filled with human pleasures.

	  Till mighty fate brought change upon it all.

	  Slaughter was widespread, pestilence was rife,

	  And death took all those valiant men away.

	  The martial halls became deserted places,

25	  The cities crumbled, its repairers fell,

	  Its armies to the earth. And so these halls

	  Are empty, and this red curved roof now sheds

	  Its tiles, decay has brought it to the ground,

	  Smashed it to piles of rubble, where long since

30	  A host of heroes, glorious, gold-adorned,

	  Gleaming in splendour, proud and flushed with wine,

	  Shone in their armour, gazed on gems and treasure,

	  On silver, riches, wealth and jewellery,

	  On this bright city with its wide domains.

35	  Stone buildings stood, and the hot streams cast forth

	  Wide sprays of water, which a wall enclosed

	  In its bright compass, where convenient

	  Stood hot baths ready for them at the centre.

	  Hot streams poured forth over the clear grey stone,

40	  To the round pool and down into the baths.

	  ..........................................


	  Hamer, R.: A Choice of Anglo-Saxon Verse. London, 1970

	  Well-wrought this wall: Wierds broke it.

	  Snapped rooftrees, towers fallen,

	  the work of the Giants, the stonesmiths,

	  mouldereth.

	  Rime scoureth gatetowers

	  rime on mortar.

	  Shattered the showershields, roofs ruined,

	  age under-ate them.

	  And the wielders & wrights?

	  Earthgrip holds them - gone, long gone

	  fast in gravesgrasp while fifty fathers

	  and sons have passed....


	  Alexander, M.: The Earliest English Poems. (1966)