EPTAt Heorot did Hrothgar-king
A massive drinking-hall proclaim,
Where mead in golden rivers ran
From tankards numberless to man
Through Shielding warriors of fame.
But Grendel, monster of the lake,
Foul spawn of Cain, by Heaven cursed,
Resenting happiness in booze,
Ecstatic prayers, lambent hues,
With Shielding lifeblood slaked his thirst.
Across the sea came Beowulf,
A Geat thane of some renown.
(Twelve winters happened first to pass)
When once-proud Hrothgar kissed his ass,
Wulf said, “I shall not let you down.”
Upon foul Grendel’s next return,
They battled, meaning grievous harm:
But Beowulf, God-bless’d and good,
Refused to turn to monster food,
And severed Grendel’s wicked arm.
The Shield-Danes’ king then wined and dined
The hero from across the seas,
And lavished praise with regal voice:
Obsequious, he did rejoice
For lack of further obsequies.
A bard then sang of combat past,
Of blighted treachery and hate –
Of monstrous men ; it was so strong,
I heard italics in the song.
Then Grendel’s mother showed, irate.
“Blood hath bought blood and body parts,”
She might have Shakespeare paraphrased,
But this had happened long before.
She took Aeschere’s head, full of lore,
And Grendel's arm, amidst drunk daze.
The Geat boasted once again
To seek revenge beneath the lake.
And Unferth, by his deeds assured,
Lent Beowulf his runic sword.
‘Twas mighty Hrunting, not a fake!
In halls of vileness Beo fought.
Unarmed, she held the upper hand
Against the Geat’s sword and board,
But on his side then stood our Lord,
And she was vanquished from the land.
Our hero crossed the sea again,
Returning home with wealth and fame,
But Danes were soon by foes beset -
Betrayers, human ones at that -
And Heorot succumbed to flame.
In Geatland, two kings then fell,
And Beo rose to claim the throne,
He was among the best of kings,
Imposing, generous with rings.
In war, his land was left alone.
A dragon woke five decades hence:
Envenom’d snake with flaming breath
That yearned for vengeance on a thief
And ravaged land in Beo’s fief,
Its halitosis bearing death.
‘Wulf couldn’t resist a monster’s lure
In youth nor geriatric, now.
He called the fighters of that day:
“Come, whippersnappers, let us play!”
To slay the beast they took a vow.
But once the time for combat came,
All of his thanes but one had fled.
Proud Wiglaf gave him full support,
The dragon’s might had come up short,
And now the toothy one lay dead.
The Lord wasn’t backing either side,
And Beowulf was due to croak.
The man was glad to keep his word;
Grinned as he saw the dragon’s hoard;
To Wiglaf said: “You’re king now, bloke.”
And Wiglaf spoke to Geats: “Kin,
Though we lack not in gold nor food,
From foes we can’t defend our land,
There is much death and woe at hand:
Our fighters’ guts are saffron-hued.”
