Hawk Quest

Hunger will devour one, storm wreck another.

The spear will slay one, and another will perish in battle …

One will fall wingless from the high tree in the forest …

One must walk alone in foreign places, tread unknown roads among strangers …

One will swing from the crooked gallows, hang in death …

One at the mead-bench will be shorn of his life by the sword’s edge …

To one, good fortune; to one a dole of suffering.

To one, joyful youth; to one, glory in combat, mastery in war-play.

To one, skill at throwing or shooting; to one, luck at dice …

One will amuse a gathering in the hall, gladden the drinkers at the mead-bench …

One will tame the wild bird, the proud hawk on his fist, until the falcon grows gentle.

(From ‘The Fortunes of Men’ in the Exeter Book, England, tenth century)