FEAST OF THE HOLY CROSS 2

Last year I posted some of the Old English poem "The Dream of the Rood", and I can't resist renewing the experience. Here are a couple of passages in the 1970 translation of Richard Hamer, who taught me Old English at Oxford, followed by the original of the passage in colour, just for the pleasure of that powerful tongue. I love the image of Christ as the "young hero" ascending the Cross.

And then I saw the Lord of all mankind

Hasten with eager zeal that He might mount

Upon me. I durst not against God's word

Bend down or break, when I saw tremble all

The surface of the earth. Although I might

Have struck down all the foes, yet stood I fast.

Then the young hero (who was God almighty)

Got ready, resolute and strong in heart.

He climbed onto the lofty gallows-tree,

Bold in the sight of many watching men,

When He intended to redeem mankind.

I trembled as the warrior embraced me.

But still I dared not bend down to the earth,

Fall to the ground. Upright I had to stand.

A rood I was raised up; and I held high

The noble King, the Lord of heaven above.

I dared not stoop. They pierced me with dark nails;

The scars can still be clearly seen on me,

The open wounds of malice. yet might I

Not harm them. They reviled us both together.

I was made wet all over with the blood

Which poured out from his side, after He had Sent forth His spirit.

………

On me

The Son of God once suffered; therefore now

I tower mighty underneath the heavens,

And I may heal all those in awe of me.

Once I became the cruellest of tortures,

Most hateful to all nations, till the time

I opened the right way of life for men.

So then the prince of glory honoured me,

And heaven's King exalted me above

All other trees, just as Almighty God

Raised up His mother Mary for all men

Above all other women in the world.

………

Ongyrede hine þa geong hæleð - þæt wæs God ælmihtig! -

strang stiðmod; gestah he ongealgan heanne,

modig on manigra gesyhðe, þahe wolde mancyn lysan.

Bifode ic þa me se beorn ymbclypte; 
ne dorste ic hwæðre bugan to eorðan,

feallan to foldan sceatum, ac ic sceolde fæste standan.

Rod wæs ic aræred; ahof ic ricne Cyning,

heofona Hlaford; hyldan me ne dorste.