--Beowulf Fights the Dragon--
He saw by the cave,
he who had many virtues,
he who had survived many times
the battle flashes
when troops rush together,
a stream running
from the stone arch--
a stream of fire.
He could not enter
for the dragon's flame.
Beowulf was angry,
the lord of the Geats,
he who stormed in battle.
He yelled into the cave.
The hoard-keeper perceived
a man's voice and
didn't plan to ask
for friendship.
Flames shot out
from among the stones,
hot battle-sweat.
The ground dinned.
The hero raised his shield
against the dreadful stranger.
Then the coiled thing
sought battle.
The war king drew his sword,
an ancient heirloom
with edges unblunt.
Each of them intended
horror to the other.
Stouthearted stood that war-prince
with his shield upraised,
waited in his war-gear.
The dragon coiled together,
went forth burning,
gliding toward his fate.
His shield protected
life and body
for a shorter time
than the prince had hoped.
That was the first day
he was not granted
glory in battle.
The lord of the Geats
raised his arm,
struck the horrible thing
with his ancestral sword,
but the edge gave way:
that bright sword
bit less on the bone
than the war-king needed.
After that stroke
the cave-guardian
was in a savage mood.
He threw death-fire--
widely sprayed
battle flashes.
The gold-friend of the Geats
wasn't boasting of victory.
His war-sword had failed,
not bitten home
as it should have,
that iron which had
always been trustworthy.
This wasn't a pleasant trip:
that famous king, Beowulf,
would have to leave this earth,
would have, against his will,
to move elsewhere.
(So must every man
give up
these transitory days.)
It wasn't long before
the terrible ones
met again--
The hoard-keeper took heart,
heaved his fire anew.
Very Good Essay
This essay is very educational - I liked it!
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