Translation #1-- Fitt 2, lines 670-740

(Image: The Vigil, by John Petite, 1884)


Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, anonymous 14th century. Fitt 2, lines 670-740. Translation by Lorne Roberts


670 He spurred the steed with spurs, and sprung away,
So stiff that stone-fire struck out then thereafter.
All those seemly-folk who saw it sighed in heart,
and soothly said, all soldiers same to self,
Concerned then for that comely, "By Christ, it is scathe
675 that that lord shall be lost, that art of life so noble!
To find his frere upon fields, in faith is not easy;
To have wrought back then more wisely've more wise been,
And have deferred to another that day, a duke t'have devenu,
a lovéd leader of legions in land well seeméd.
680 Rather than now to be bringéd to naught,
Than beheaded by a brute for bullshit of brawny pride;
Who knew any king ever such council to take,
As knights in cavalcaderie on Christmas?

Well much wast the warm water that was wept
685 when that seemly sire set out from that house
that day
he made then no abode
But wightly made his way
Many wilesome way he (w)rode
690 The book as I heard say.




Now rideth this rank'd sarge to realm of Logres,
Sir Gawain on God's quest, no game this he guessed;
Oft lack-love and alone he lounged at night
Where found he n'er before him fare he'd fancy;
695 He had no frere but his foal, or the forests and fields,
Not no comrade but God by gate-way whom to carp at,
Til he nearéd full night into north of Walés
All isles of Anglesay on 'is left half he holdeth,
And fareth o'er fords then by for-londeth
700 Over at Holy Head, til he had once more turned from shore
Into wilderness of Wyrale; lacking in life
that either God or man with good heart loved.
And ever he asked as he voyaged, of folks that he met,
If they had heard any karp of a knight green,
705 In any ground there-about, of the strange chapel green;
And all nixed him with nay, that never in their life
They saweth n'er no soldier that was of such hues
of green.
The knight took pathways strange,
710 In many a shore obscene,
His cheer full oft can change,
That chapel ere he'll have seen.





Many cliffs he over-climbed in countries strange,
Far flung from friends a foreigner he rode;
715 At each ford over water passed our knight,
and found a foe before him, he was fortune's favoured
and foul and fell beast fled before his force;
So many marvels by mountain-road he finds,
It were too tiring to tell of the tenth trial.
720 Some-while with wretched worms he wars and with wolves,
Some-while with wodwos who wreaked their wilderness wiles
Both with bulls and with bears, and beast-boars other-whiles,
And giants' perilous pursuit in highland paths; yeah;
Had he not been dauntless, and dominant, and daring, then
725 Doubtless he'd have been dead, and fubar'd full oft.
For war wrecked him not so much that winter wasn't worse,
When the cold clear water from clouds it crashéd down,
And froze before it fell on frigid earth.
Near slain with the sleet he slept in his chivalrous suit,
730 More nights than needed nestled in naked rock
There where crashing from crag and crest the cold creek clattered
and it hung high overhead in huge heavy ic-icles.
Thus in peril, and pain, and plights full hard,
Bleak country carries this knight 'til Christmas eve,
735 alone;
The knight well then that time
to Mary made his moan,
That she show him where to climb,
and guide him to some home.