现存最古老的女性诗人创作的英语诗歌《Wulf and Eadwacer》

星期一诗社 2024-01-10

Wulf and Eadwacer: Modern English Translations, Paraphrase, History, Summary and Analysis

(the subject is an anonymous Old English/Anglo-Saxon poem noted for its ambiguity, circa 960-990 AD)

"Wulf and Eadwacer" is one of the truly great poems of English antiquity. It has been classified as an elegy, a lament, an early ballad or villanelle, a riddle, a charm, and a frauenlieder or "woman's song." An ancient Anglo-Saxon work written in the West Saxon dialect, the poem dates back to a time when the English language still resembled German (the Angles, from whom England derives its name, were a Germanic tribe, as were the Saxons). Around 75% of the poem's words have Germanic origins. Old English poetry is also called Anglo-Saxon poetry because it has linguistic roots that go back to the Angles and Saxons. And yet, while the poem was composed in Old English, it still "feels" quite modern. How is that so? For one thing, it's a dramatic monologue―quite possibly the first dramatic monologue in the English language, centuries before the works of poets and playwrights like Geoffrey Chaucer, Christopher Marlowe, William Shakespeare, John Milton, Alfred Tennyson and Robert Browning. It's also one of the first English poems with a refrain, along with "Deor's Lament." Furthermore, the speaker of "Wulf and Eadwacer" is a woman, at a time when we don't find other Englishwomen writing poetry or speaking so bitterly and defiantly (the "Wife's Lament" is the other dazzling exception to this general rule). Thus "Wulf and Eadwacer" may be the first feminist text in the English language. Is the speaker female? I think so. Henk Aertsen has argued that the feminine endings of reotugu and seoce are female. But grammar aside, it seems obvious that a woman is speaking. And technically the poem looks like free verse―nearly a thousand years before Walt Whitman and five hundred years before the King James Bible―because it "breaks the rules" of the poetry of its day. In my opinion, "Wulf and Eadwacer" is a groundbreaking poem because it has a female perspective, a feminist attitude, and a free verse approach in which traditional rules of versification are bent or broken. What matters, as with the great Romantic and Modernist poets to come many centuries later, is that the speaker gets her point across. And she does, in spades. “伍尔夫与埃德瓦瑟”是英国古代真正伟大的诗歌之一。在早期的英格兰，一首歌被称为“撒克逊人的挽歌，或者说是撒克逊人的一首歌，它的名字还是源于一首古老的撒克逊人的歌，或者说是一首歌，它的名字来源于古英格兰的一首撒克逊人的歌，或者说是一首歌，它的名字来源于古英格兰的一首撒克逊人的歌，或者叫做“撒克逊人的挽歌”，撒克逊人也是如此）。这首诗中约75%的词源是日耳曼语。古英语诗歌也被称为盎格鲁撒克逊诗歌，因为它的语言根源可以追溯到盎格鲁撒克逊人。然而，虽然这首诗是用古英语写的，但它仍然“感觉”相当现代。怎么回事？首先，这是一个戏剧性的独白——很可能是英语中第一个戏剧性的独白，比杰弗里·乔叟、克里斯托弗·马洛、威廉·莎士比亚、约翰·米尔顿、阿尔弗雷德·丁尼森和罗伯特·布朗宁等诗人和剧作家的作品都要早几个世纪。这也是英国最早的一首带有副词的诗歌，还有“迪奥的哀歌”。此外，“伍尔夫和艾德瓦瑟”的说话人是一个女人，在这个时候，我们没有发现其他英国女人在写诗歌或是如此尖刻和挑衅地说话（“妻子的哀叹”是这一普遍规律的另一个令人眼花缭乱的例外）。因此，《伍尔夫与艾德瓦瑟》可能是英语中第一个女性主义文本。演讲者是女性吗？我认为是这样。亨克·阿尔岑认为，雷图古和塞奥的女性结局是女性的。但撇开语法不谈，很明显一个女人在说话。从技术上讲，这首诗看起来像自由诗——比惠特曼早了近一千年，比詹姆士国王的圣经早了五百年——因为它“打破了当时诗歌的规则”。在我看来，《伍尔夫与艾德瓦瑟》是一首开创性的诗歌，因为它有女性视角，女性主义态度，以及传统诗体化规则被扭曲或打破的自由诗歌方式。重要的是，正如许多世纪以后伟大的浪漫主义和现代派诗人一样，演讲者要把她的观点表达清楚。她确实做到了。

with four poetry translations by Michael R. Burch; a literal, word-by-word prose translation or paraphrase; translator's notes and analysis; and a discussion of the identity of the mysterious "second wolf"

Wulf and Eadwacer (I)

loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My clan's curs pursue him like crippled game;

they'll rip him apart if he approaches their pack.

It is otherwise with us.

Wulf's on one island; we're on another.

His island's a fortress, fastened by fens. (fastened=secured)

Here, bloodthirsty curs howl for carnage.

They'll rip him apart if he approaches their pack.

It is otherwise with us.

My hopes pursued Wulf like panting hounds,

but whenever it rained—how I wept!—

the boldest cur clutched me in his paws:

good feelings for him, but for me loathsome!

Wulf, O, my Wulf, my ache for you

has made me sick; your seldom-comings

have left me famished, deprived of real meat.

Have you heard, Eadwacer? Watchdog!

A wolf has borne our wretched whelp to the woods.

One can easily sever what never was one:

our song together.

NOTE: I do not claim that my interpretation of this famously ambiguous poem is the "correct" one. In my poem, the speaker is a defiant early feminist, the first #metoo poet of the English language. She is disgusted with her bloodthirsty tribe, who have driven her lover Wulf away. Why? Perhaps because they wanted to sacrifice him to the "gods." Perhaps because he broke some primitive law. We simply don't know. But whatever the reason, the speaker claims that it is ungelic, or "otherwise" with her. She is not like her ferocious, bloodthirsty people. They are alien to her. Rather, she dreams of her lover Wulf and follows him in her hopeful, loving thoughts. But even as she dreams of Wulf, she is being raped by another man, Eadwacer. It is not clear who Eadwacer is. He may be a priest (Heaven-Watcher), a guardian (Property-Watcher), a family member appointed to "protect" her "purity" (a Watchdog), or perhaps her husband against her will. The speaker defiantly insults Eadwacer. He is unable to please her. He is deficient in "meat" compared to Wulf. Wulf has a bigger cock and knows how to use it. She mocks her would-be "lover" and "protector." Eadwacer has made her pregnant, but she abhors him. Something terrible has happened to their whelp, or child. Their "song together" will be easily severed, because they were never really one. She waits for Wulf to put an end to Eadwacer, so that they can be reunited. This is not so much the first English poem about a love triangle, as it is the first English poem about a love/sex triangle.

Again, please keep in mind that I cannot claim that this is the "correct" interpretation of the poem. No one can claim to know exactly what the original poet intended. But I think my interpretation makes sense. It's the story of many women who have been separated from the men they love by war, religion and/or chauvinistic men.

Also, please note that I call my translations "loose translations" and "interpretations" because they are not literal word-for-word translations. I begin with my personal interpretation of a poem and translate accordingly. To critics who object to variations from the original texts, my response is that there are often substantial disagreements among even the most accomplished translators. Variations begin with the readings because different people get different things from different poems. And a strict word-for-word translation will seldom, if ever, result in poetry. In my opinion translation is much closer to an art than a perfect science and I side with Rabindranath Tagore, who said he needed some leeway in order to produce poetry in another language when he translated his own poems into English.—MRB

Wulf and Eadwacer (II)

loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To my people he's prey, a pariah.

They'll rip him apart if he approaches their pack.

Ungelīc is ūs! (We are unalike, otherwise, different, unwelcome, alien to each other?, a different species?)

Wulf fled to a faraway island:

his fen-fastened fortress.

Here, slaughter-cruel curs howl for blood.

They'll rip him apart if he approaches their pack.

Ungelīc is ūs!

My heart hounded Wulf in his wanderings

but whenever it rained—how I wept!—

the mangiest cur clutched me in his paws:

good feelings for him, but for me loathsome!

Wulf, my Wulf! These violent love-longings

have left me useless; your seldom-comings

have left me famished, deprived of real meat!

Have you heard, Heaven-Watcher?

A wolf has borne our wretched whelp to the woods!

One can easily sever what never was one:

our song together.

Translator's Notes and Analysis

by Michael R. Burch

"Wulf and Eadwacer" is one of the truly great "elder" poems of the English language: a bittersweet saga of love, separation, rape and betrayal. This ancient poem―over 1,000 years old!―has been characterized as an elegy, a wild lament, a lover's lament, a passion play, a riddle, a charm, and as an early ballad with a refrain. However, most scholars choose to place it, along with The Wife's Lament, within the genre of the frauenlied or frauenlieder, a woman's song. It may be the first extant poem authored by a woman in the fledgling English language, although the poet's name and sex remain unknown. But it seems likely that the poet was a woman because the poem is written from a female perspective and we don't usually think of ancient scops pretending to be women. "Wulf and Eadwacer" is one of the first English poems to employ a refrain, a hallmark of the ballads and villanelles to come. The poem appeared in the Exeter Book, between "Deor's Lament" and the riddles, meaning that it was written no later than around 990 AD. But the poem itself is probably older, perhaps much older. I hope readers enjoy my translations of this powerful, haunting poem that speaks to us from the dawn of time and English poetry. The remainder of these notes may be of interest to readers who would like to know more about the poem, its history, and why I made the choices I made.

Is "Wulf and Eadwacer" the first free verse poem in the English language? I think it deserves nomination and consideration for at least three reasons. First, its refrain was an innovation. Second, the refrain broke the rules of traditional Anglo-Saxon poetry by containing only five syllables, rather than the required minimum of eight. Third, there are other irregularities of form and metrics. In the original text the poem begins with a two-line stanza followed by the refrain. Next, there is a four-line stanza followed by the refrain. Then there are four longer lines not followed by a refrain. Following are the three shorter, terser, emotion-charged lines that begin with the exclamation "Wulf, mīn Wulf!" ("Wolf, my Wolf!"). Again there is no refrain, which has been abandoned, and the first half-line has only three syllables, where Old English prosody required at least four syllables per half-line. The four closing lines either (1) alternate between longer and shorter lines as they appear in the original text, or (2) revert back to the traditional form and are thus longer than the lines that immediately precede them (in the latter case whoever hand-wrote the poem made a grouping error and there should be only three lines). Does the author of "Wulf and Eadwacer" qualify as a free verse poet? Yes, I think so because the poet―no slave to convention―"mixed things up" by innovating and either ignoring or relaxing the traditional rules.

The poetic devices used are in what John Balaban called the "pre-continental, Anglo-Saxon style." These poetic devices include accentual meter, alliteration, assonance, and what Balaban terms "ablaut, slant rhyme" on the order of ring-rang-rung. Later poets who employed slant rhyme or "para-rhyme" effectively include Henry Vaughan, Emily Dickinson, Gerard Manley Hopkins, W. B. Yeats, Wilfred Owen, Theodore Roethke and Sylvia Plath. But there would be a long time gap from the Anglo-Saxon scops to the poets just mentioned.

"Wulf and Eadwacer" may also be notable for being one of the few pieces of early English writing that contains sexual intrigue not "adulterated" later by Christian monks, if you'll pardon the pun. But how can we know whether monks engaged in hack work on this particular poem? I find it a bit suspicious that the refrain does not appear where one would expect to find it: after the third stanza, which seems to describe a rape. Did a "sanitizer" delete something more shocking, and the missing refrain along with it? It seems possible to me. In any case, I added the third refrain line, which did not appear in the original text. I have seen modern copyists and editors make all sorts of mistakes, and I'm sure ancient scribes made mistakes as well, even when they weren't deliberately censoring writers. But if you prefer to stick as closely as possible to the original poem, just skip over the third refrain. However, it certainly seems to apply to the rapist.

"Wulf and Eadwacer" may also be considered the first English feminist text, as the speaker seems to be challenging and mocking the man who raped and impregnated her. (Before I go any further, please let me point out that the poem seems to be about a woman who is in love with one man, Wulf, who was driven away, with the result that she was raped by some other man or men and became pregnant. However, there are other interpretations of the poem. What I am providing here is my personal interpretation of the poem, which may or may not be correct.)

The poem's closing metaphor of a loveless relationship being like a song in which two voices never harmonized remains one of the strongest in the English language, or any language. The poem is also notable for its rich ambiguity, which leaves much open to the reader's interpretation. For instance, the "wolf" that has borne the whelp to the woods could be Wulf, the heartsick female speaker, Eadwacer, Eadwacer's jealous wife, some other member(s) of the clan, or even a canine wolf. We really don't know and can only make educated guesses or embrace the poem's ambiguity. We also do not know what happened to the child in the woods, but have the impression of a dark catastrophe: perhaps human sacrifice (an idea I explore in the word "bloodgift" above, and further in the translations below).

I chose not to translate "Ungelīc is ūs" because I couldn't find a comparable line in modern English that conveyed the alienness and power I perceived (or perhaps imagined) in the original Anglo-Saxon phrase. I believe it probably means something like "we are unalike," but no one really knows, not even the most expert linguists as far as I can tell. Considering when and how the phrase is used in the poem, I believe it could mean something much stronger, like: "we are alien to each other," or "we are like two different species," but that is speculation on my part. However, that's the feeling I get when I read the poem: the female speaker seems to view her clan as being like a pack of snarling, bloodthirsty dogs on the trail of prey ... and the prey is her beloved Wulf. Even worse, it seems that when she thinks about Wulf and begins to weep, one the clan's warriors takes advantage of the situation and rapes her. The most likely rapist is Eadwacer, but it could be some other warrior, or even a group of warriors. The name Eadwacer has been interpreted as "Heaven-watcher" and "property watcher." So it's possible that Eadwacer is either a warrior, a priest, or a warrior-priest who has been appointed as a guardian (or husband or owner) of the poem's female speaker.

I considered "bucks the pack" because that phrase conveys the sense of both returning to (or otherwise meeting) the pack, and also being at odds with it. Possible replacements for "bucks" include "meets", "rejoins," "approaches" and "returns to." Possible replacements for "deprived of real meat" include "unable to eat," "uncaring of meat" and "but not caring about food."

Who is the mysterious Wulf? It has been suggested that he was a Viking marauder. Viking raiding parties were known to sail up estuaries and set up camps on islands. But at best that's just an educated guess. But whoever Wulf is, he is clearly some sort of outcast, perhaps an outlaw.

Who is the poem's "second wolf"? I believe the correct answer is that no one really knows. We can only speculate. One possibility is that the second wolf is Wulf himself. Perhaps he returned to abduct the child, or to kill it as a form of revenge for the rape of his wife or lover. Another possibility is that Eadwacer is the second wolf. If Wulf was nominated to be a sacrifice to the gods, but escaped, perhaps Eadwacer fathered the child on purpose, to replace the lost sacrifice. Or perhaps he was married and his wife refused to raise another woman's child in their house, so he acted according to her wishes. Or perhaps Eadwacer's wife was the second wolf, and she got rid of the child herself. Or perhaps the mother herself became the second wolf, getting rid of a child fathered by her rapist. Or perhaps some other member of the tribe was the second wolf, perhaps believing it was the will of the gods for the child to replace its father as a sacrifice. Or perhaps the second wolf, in a great and terrible irony, was a real wolf! If asked to offer my own opinion, I would first speculate that Eadwacer was probably not the second wolf, because the mother asks if he has heard the news. I would eliminate "the other woman" because no such woman is mentioned. Then, because it seems the intention of the act was to sever the relationship, I am inclined to suspect either Wulf or the mother. My guess―and it is only a guess and could certainly be wrong―is that the mother is the most likely second wolf because Wulf has been driven away to another island. If I'm correct, I would like to believe the mother took the baby to someone else, via a meeting in the woods, because she didn't want to raise the child herself, and because she wanted to show Eadwacer the consequences of raping her and fathering children on her. He would never see his children by her. But those were dark days, and it's possible that a mother could have chosen to dispose of her own child. However, there is obviously considerable uncertainty and speculation involved. I can only say that the poem seems to possibly be about human sacrifice. I cannot be sure that my interpretation of the final stanza―that the intention of the abduction was to sever the song―is correct. But it seems to me that the mother may be saying something like―excuse my French―"Did you hear, you fucking bloodthirsty priest? A she-wolf carried off our wretched whelp to the woods, to do what you intended to do to Wulf. Do you see how easily I can sever what never was one: our 'song' together?" Did the mother sacrifice Eadwacer's child in the woods, to his savage gods?

Another interpretation of the poem, advanced by KC McGuire, is that Wulf is a werewolf! That's a very interesting hypothesis, to say the least, and it would explain why people are trying to kill Wulf, and why the whelp is in danger. However, I'm not sure if tales of werewolves go back that far in time. It has even been suggested that the speaker is a female zombie, which I find very unlikely. She sounds like a very passionate human woman to me, who is not happy about being separated from the man she loves and desires.

Here is a more literal translation of the poem, although "literal" does not mean that I know what every word in the original poem meant exactly. No modern reader does. If you'd like to see how I arrived at this version, you can see what I did with each line in the prose translations that follow.

Wulf and Eadwacer (III)

loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To my people he's prey, a bloodgift.

They will offer him up, if he approaches their pack.

Ungelīc is ūs.

Wulf's on one island, I'm on another.

His island's a fortress, fastened by fens.

Here bloodthirsty men roam this island.

They will offer him up, if he approaches their pack.

Ungelīc is ūs.

My wide-ranging thoughts hounded Wulf.

Whenever it rained, while I wept,

big battle-strong arms embraced me.

For me there was pleasure, but its end was loathsome.

Wulf, my Wulf! My desire for you

has made me sick; your seldom-comings

have troubled my mind much more than missed meat.

Did you hear, Heaven-Watcher? The whelp we delivered

has been borne by a wolf to the woods.

One can easily sever what was never one:

our song together.

By "literal translation" I mean as literal as possible, not a word-for-word translation. In some cases (noted at the bottom of this page), the words of the original poem have multiple meanings, so it can require additional words to convey as much of the meaning as possible in modern English. In the version above, I take the approach that the female speaker says that she is ungelic (unlike) her people because she does not believe in sacrificing human beings to the gods. Perhaps Wulf had been designated to be a sacrifice, but escaped to another island. And perhaps the child was chosen to to be the next sacrifice. The lack of food was a common reason to offer sacrifices to the gods, so perhaps the speaker's comment about being hungry gives us an important clue. And the last two lines raise the question: did the speaker have anything to do with the way the tables were turned, perhaps because she didn't want to raise her rapist's baby?

Here is the original Anglo-Saxon poem, with each line followed by a word-for-word prose translation and two Modern English transliterations by Michael R. Burch:

Lēodum is mīnum swylce him mon lāc gife;

People/tribe is mine as-if him one like gift;

[To] my people, he is like a gift/bloodgift/sacrifice/offering/sacrificial gift/blood offering/game/sport/bloodsport.

To my people he's a bloodgift [owed to the gods].

To my people he's prey, a sacrificial gift.

willað hý hine āþecgan gif hē on þrēat cymeð.

will they him devour if he on force comes.

They will devour/consume/feast on/slaughter/destroy/rape/mate with/serve/offer him if he comes to/approaches their force/troop/clan/pack/company. (Here, āþecgan may have sexual undertones.)

They will offer him up [to the gods, as a meal, in return for food for the clan to eat], if he approaches their pack.

Ungelīc is ūs.

Otherwise is us.

We are unalike/otherwise/different. / It is otherwise with us. / It is not like that with us.

We are so different.

Wulf is on īege, ic on ōþerre.

Wulf is on island, I on other.

Wulf is on one island, I on another.

Wulf's on one island, I'm on another.

Fæst is þæt ēglond, fenne biworpen.

Fast is that island, fen/swamp surrounded.

That island is fast/a fortress, surrounded by fens.

His island's a secure fortress, surrounded and protected by fens.

Sindon wælrēowe weras þaer on īge;

They-are slaughter-cruel men there on island;

There are slaughter-cruel/fierce/bloodthirsty men there on the island. [It is not completely clear which island is meant, but it sounds like the speaker's island.]

Fierce, bloodthirsty men roam this island.

willað hý hine āþecgan gif hē on þrēat cymeð.

will they him devour if he on force comes.

They will devour/slaughter/destroy/serve/offer him if he comes onto their force/troop/clan/pack/stronghold/fortress.

They will offer him up, if he approaches their pack.

Ungelīc is ūs.

Otherwise is us.

We are unalike/otherwise/different.

We are so different.

Wulfes ic mīnes wīdlāstum wēnum dogode,

Wulf in my wide-journey hopes dogged.

I dogged/hounded Wulf in my wide-ranging hopes/thoughts/dreams. / My hopes/dreams/thoughts dogged Wulf in his wide-wanderings.

My hopes dogged Wulf like wide-ranging hounds. / I waited for my Wolf with dogged longings.

þonne hit wæs rēnig weder ond ic rēotugu sæt,

when it was rainy weather and I wailing sat, / whenever it rained and I sat weeping/wailing/sobbing

When it was rainy weather and I sat weeping/wailing/sobbing/disconsolate,

Whenever it rained while I sobbed, disconsolate,

þonne mec se beaducāfa bōgum bilegde,

then me the battle-strong arms/forequarters/paws enclosed, / when the battle-bold arms enclosed me/wrapped me up (Here, bog seems to mean an animal's forelegs or paws, but it can also mean "boughs" or "progeny")

then the battle-strong arms/paws enclosed me,

huge, battle-strong arms/paws enclosed me;

wæs mē wyn tō þon, wæs mē hwæþre ēac lāð.

was me joy to that, was me however also pain. / it was my joy, but also pain/hatred/loathing.

for me there was pleasure/joy, but also pain/hatred/something loathsome.

for me there was pleasure, but its end was loathsome.

Wulf, mīn Wulf! wēna mē þīne

Wulf, my Wulf! hopes me pine / my pining/longings/hopes for you

Wulf, my Wulf! My hopes/desires/longings/pinings/lust for you

Wulf, my Wulf! My desire for you

sēoce gedydon, þīne seldcymas,

sick made, thy seldom-comings / have sickened, your seldom-comings/absences

have made me sick, your seldom-comings

has made me sick; your seldom-comings

murnende mōd, nales metelīste.

troubled mind, not meals-missed. / mourning mind, not meals missed.

disturbed/troubled/occupied my mind, not the lack of food/meals/meat.

have troubled my mind, more than missed meat.

Gehýrest þū, Ēadwacer? Uncerne earne hwelp

Hearest you, Eadwacer? Our wretched whelp

Hear, Eadwacer? Our wretched/vile/filthy/unwanted whelp / Hear, Property-Watcher/Heaven-Watcher/Wealth-Watcher/Watchdog? The whelp we earned/delivered/produced

Did you hear, Heaven-Watcher? The whelp we delivered

bireð wulf tō wuda.

bears wolf to woods.

Wulf/a wolf now bears/has borne to the woods. / Wulf bears to the woods.

a wolf now bears to the woods.

Þæt mon ēaþe tōslīteð þætte naefre gesomnad wæs,

That one easily severs that never united was,

One easily severs what was never united/secured/bound fast

One can easily sever what was never one:

uncer giedd geador.

our song/tale/poem/riddle together.

our song together.

The poem is deliciously ambiguous; for instance:

lāc means not only "wild game" but "gift" and thus might suggest a sacrifice, offering or bloodgift

ungelic means "otherwise" or "different" or "unalike"

fæst means "fast" in the sense of secure or protected; the island is protected by fens and inaccessibility

āþecgan means not only "to kill" but "to feed" or "devour," to "accept (a guest)" and perhaps "to mate" or "copulate"

þrēat could mean "troop," "force," "threat," "crowd," "clan," "pack," "horde" or "hostile army"

dogode is a verb whose meaning is uncertain because it occurs nowhere else in the OE corpus; it may be related to "dog" or "hound" and mean something like "hounded," "dogged" or somehow acting dog-like

beaducāfa means "warrior" and is generally taken to be the same person as Eadwacer

bōgum bilegde means something like "wrapped in [his] arms" and seems suggestive of sexual intercourse, especially considering the whelp (child)

wēna mē þīne means something like "my pinings for you" or "my expectations for/of you"

uncer giedd geador or "our giedd together" may invoke Matthew 19:6 ("What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.")

If the poet punned on giedd (song, story, tale) and the sound-alike word "god," suggesting that what God did not join together was doomed to remain separated, that would be truly remarkable.

Eadwacer may mean "property watcher" or "heaven watcher," thus suggesting a guard or priest. Perhaps the female speaker has become a slave and it is Eadwacer's job to watch the "property."

It has been ventured that the poem was written by Cynwulf, but there is no evidence of his authorship.

Translators of the poem include Michael Alexander, John Balaban, S. A. J. Bradley, Michael R. Burch, Robert P. Creed, Arnold E. Davidson, A. Z. Foreman, Jonathan A. Glenn, R. K. Gordon, Stanley P. Greenfield, Kevin Crossley-Holland, Dr. Aaron K. Hostetter, W.S. Mackie, Kemp Malone, Paul Muldoon, Katie Peterson, Burton Raffel, Ben Robson and Alfred John Wyatt.

In Anglo-Saxon England, outlaws were called "wolf's heads," so the name Wulf suggests an outlaw, a desperado, or perhaps a pirate or early highwayman.

Wulf and Eadwacer (IV)

loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To my clan's curs, he's god-food, a bloodgift.

They'll rip him apart if he falls to the pack.

Ungelīc is ūs. (We are unalike, otherwise, different, alien to each other?, a different species?)

Wulf fled to a faraway island:

his fen-fastened fortress.

Here, bloodlustful men bark for manbones.

They'll rip him apart if he falls to the pack.

Ungelīc is ūs.

My heart followed Wulf's wide-wanderings!

But once as I wept, wracked with grief,