translated from the Old English by Ophelia Eryn Hostetter

This jawn’s in majesty—
didn’t you know?
My tongue trips its tricks,
modulates in remix.

Wanna see me bark like a dog?
Or bleat like an old nanny-goat?
Or maybe honk goose-like?
Or keen like the hawk?
Sometimes even I play 
at the hoary eagle,
thundering the threatening 
laugh of warlike fowl,
and sometimes the kite’s voice, 
mouth sharing the comforting commons
and sometimes the sad
and lonely song of gulls,
while I sit here smiling at you.

Gifts call me here—
sometimes what’s Oaken
or even what goes Riding,
make living by Mouth,
and the Hail and Ice.

My name’s all you need 
to know, just six scratches,
secrets you so clearly show.

(ca. 950–1000 CE)

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