The Road to Middle-Earth: How J. R. R. Tolkien Created a New Mythology

APPENDIX B

FOUR ‘ASTERISK’ POEMS

Tolkien contributed some thirteen poems to Songs for the Philologists, according to Humphrey Carpenter in Biography, p. 357. Most are jeux d’esprit, either mildly satirical like ‘Lit. and Lang.’ (see above), or else remarkable only for their linguistic dexterity (like ‘Syx Mynet', an Old English rendering of ‘I’ve Got Sixpence', or ‘Ruddoc Hana', which is ‘Who Killed Cock Robin?'). Four of them, however, seem to have something more personal to say, and I accordingly reprint them here by kind permission of the executors of Tolkien’s estate. At some time after the production of Songs for the Philologists all four were furthermore carefully corrected and emended by Tolkien himself; I am grateful to Christopher Tolkien for showing me copies of the corrected texts, and have included, or noted, all such changes in the versions below. Since three of the poems are in Old English and one in Gothic, I have followed each text with a translation.

Two of the four may be described as ‘birch’ poems: for their relevance see above. The other two are poems in which a mortal is trapped in some way by an immortal. They are meant, I think, to appear as ‘ancestors’ for such ballads as ‘Tam Lin’ or ‘The Queen of Elfan’s Nourice’ in the Child collection, or ‘The Daemon Lover’ in Sharp’s, or ‘Agnes and the Merman’ in Svend Grundtvig’s (see Appendix A above). The corrected version of ‘Ofer Wídne Gársecg’ indeed includes the note, in Tolkien’s hand, ‘An OE version of ’Twas in the broad Atlantic in the equinoctial gales That a young fellow fell overboard among the sharks and whales’.

The Birch Poems

(a) BAGME BLOMA

Brunaim bairiþ Bairka bogum

laubans liubans liudandei,

gilwagroni, glitmunjandei,

bagme bloma, blauandei,

fagrafahsa, liþulinþi,

fraujinondei fairguni.

Wopjand windos, wagjand lindos,

lutiþ limam laikandei;

slaihta, raihta, hweitarinda,

razda rodeiþ reirandei,

bandwa bairhta, runa goda,

þiuda meina þiuþjandei.

Andanahti milhmam neipiþ,

liuhteiþ liuhmam lauhmuni;

laubos liubai fliugand lausai,

tulgus, triggwa, standandei.

Bairka baza beidiþ blaika

fraujinondei fairguni. (Gothic)

FLOWER OF THE TREES

The birch bears fine leaves on shining boughs, it grows pale green and glittering, the flower of the trees in bloom, fair-haired and supple-limbed, the ruler of the mountain.

The winds call, they shake gently, she bends her boughs low in sport; smooth, straight and white-barked, trembling she speaks a language, a bright token, a good mystery, blessing my people.

Evening grows dark with clouds, the lightning flashes, the fine leaves fly free, but firm and faithful the white birch stands bare and waits, ruling the mountain.

(I am indebted to Miss Rhona Beare of Adelaide University for showing me her translation of this poem.)

(b) ÉADIG BÉO ÞU

Éadig béo þu, góda mann!

Éadig béo þu, léofe wíf!

Langre lisse ic þe ann –

hafa lof and líþe líf!

Hé þe hér swa sáre swanc,

rúna rǽdde’ and fyrngewrit,

hál beo hé, on sálum wlanc,

healde láre’ and wís gewit!

Éadge béo we eft swa nú!

Dréam ne dréose, drync genóg

flówe on fullum síþ swa iú –

fyllaþ wǽge, fyllaþ cróg!

Byrla! byrla! medu scenc!

Dóm is feor þeah dóm sie strang.

Swinc forlǽt and géot ús drenc!

Lust is lýtel, earfoþ lang.

Uton singan scírne sang,

herian Beorc and byrcen cynn,

láre’ and láreow, leornungmann –

sie ús sǽl and hǽl and wynn!

Ác sceal feallan on þæt fýr

lustes, léafes, lífes wan!

Beorc sceal ágan langne tír,

bréme glǽme glengan wang! (Old English)

GOOD LUCK TO YOU

Good luck to you, good man, and to you, dear woman. I give you lasting joy, have praise and pleasant life. He who worked you here so hard, expounded runes and ancient texts, may he be happy too, merry at his feasts, and keep up good sense and learning.

May we be happy later as we are now, may joy not fail, and drink enough flow in the cups in times to come as times gone by – fill the cups and fill the pitchers! Waiter, waiter, give us mead! Doom is far though doom be strong, give up work and pour us drink.^* Joy is little and labour long.

Let’s sing a cheerful song, praise the Birch and birch’s race, the teacher, the student and the subject, may we all have health and joy and happiness. The oak will fall into the fire, losing joy and leaf and life. The birch shall keep its glory long, shine in splendour over the bright plain.

‘Trapped mortal’ Poems

(a) IDES ÆLFSCÝNE

Þa ǽr ic wæs cniht, þa cóm ic on pliht:

Sum mægden mé métte ond maélde:

‘La, léofa, wes hál! Sceal uncer gedál

nú nǽfre má weorðan on eorðan!’

Nó má weorðan on eorðan. (bis)

Wá! ides ælfscýne, ond wá, wine míne!

Sceal nǽfre má weorðan on eorðan.

Héo cyste me sóna, þær líxte se móna;

on clommum me clypte ond sǽlde;

on ofste me nóm mid hire’ under glóm,

þǽr sceadugong ǽfre wæs wǽfre,

wælmist ǽfre wæs wǽfre. (bis)

Wá! ides ælfscýne, ond wá, wine míne!

Þǽr sceadugong ǽfre wæs wǽfre.

Hwǽr wǽre’ hit ic nát: we stigon on bát,

þǽr murcnede mere on mealme.

Ofer lagu ic láð, ond modes ic máð,

ac ǽfre me strongode longað,

Awa strongode longað. (bis)

Wá! ides aelfscýne, ond wá, wine míne!

Þǽr ǽfre me strongode longað.

Þǽr gréne wæs grund, ond hwít hire hund,

ond gylden wæs hwǽte on healme,

on fyrlenum londe, on silfrenum stronde,

þǽr darode dweorg under beorgum

darode dweorg under beorgum. (bis)

Wá! ides ælfscýne, ond wá, wine míne!

Þǽr darode dweorg under beorgum.

To Gode’ ic gebæd, elþéodunga sæd

be dimmum ond dréorigum wǽgum.

Þǽr sunne ne scán, ac micel zimstán

on lyfte þǽr gléow mid his léomum,

léohte gléow mid his léomum. (bis)

Wâ! ides ælfscýne, ond wá, wine míne!

On lyfte þǽr gléow mid his léomum.

Ofer missera hund ic wǽdla ond wund

eft cyrde to mennisce’ ond mǽzum:

on moldan wæs nú se ðe cúðe me iú,

ond hár ic nú wanize ána,

sáre wanize ána. (bis)

Wá! ides ælfscýne, ond wá, wine míne!

Ond hár ic nú wanize ána.

(Old English)

ELF-FAIR LADY

Before I was so much as a boy, I came into danger; a maiden met me and said: ‘Greetings, my darling, from now on the two of us must never be separated on earth’

– never be separated on earth. Alas! elf-fair lady, and my friend, alas! must never more be separated on earth.

She kissed me straight away, where the moon was shining, she embraced me and bound me in her grasp. Quickly she took me with her under the gloom, where the shadow-way always flickered

– where the death-mist always flickered. Alas! elf-fair lady, and my friend, alas! where the shadow-way always flickered.

I don’t know where I was, we stepped in a boat, where the sea moaned on the sand. I travelled over the ocean, and hid my thoughts to myself, but always my longing grew stronger

– always longing grew stronger. Alas! elf-fair lady, and my friend, alas! where longing always grew stronger.

There the ground was green, and her hound was white, and the wheat on the stalk was golden – in the far-off land, on the silver strand, where the dwarf lurked under the mountains

– the dwarf lurked under the mountains. Alas! elf-fair lady, and my friend, alas! where the dwarf lurked under the mountains.

I prayed to God, tired of my exile by the dim and dreary waves, where the sun did not shine, but a great gem-stone glowed there in the sky with his beams

– glowed brightly with his beams. Alas! elf-fair lady, and my friend, alas! glowed there in the sky with his beams.

Fifty years later I returned again, poor and hurt, to men and my family. The one who had known me before was now in the mould, and now I dwindle, grey and alone

– dwindle alone and in pain. Alas! elf-fair lady, and my friend, alas! and now I dwindle, grey and alone.

(b) OFER WÍDNE GÁRSECG

Þa ofer wídne gársecg wéow unwidre ceald,

Sum hagusteald on lagu féoll on nicera geweald.

He legde lást swa fýres gnást, he snude’ on sunde fléah,

Oþþæt he métte meremenn déopan grunde néah. –

La! hwæt, ic Gárdena on geárdagum geseah

Þéodcyninga-ninga-ninga þrym and –

brýdealoþ under brimfaroþ déopan grunde néah!

Þæt merewíf þá of stóle úplang héo gestód,

Mid fágum fintan fægniende: wæs hire grétung gód.

Héo smearciende smǽre’ hie wende, tǽhte hire hand;

‘Nú, wilcuma, lá, hláford mín, on meremenna land!’

La! hwæt, ic Gárdena on geárdagum onfand

Þéodcyninga-ninga-ninga þrym and –

brydealoþ under brimfaroþ on meremenna land.

‘Hér leng ne mót ic bídan, gedǽle’ ic nú wiþ þé!’

Héo cwæþ: ‘Ná, ná! ne biþ hit swá! Þu gewífast nú on mé.

Nú eft þú gá, and cweþ: “Nó má fare’ ic on sunde héah;

Gemæcca mín is meremann déopan grunde néah.”’

(First refrain)

On nácan his genéatas hine sohton wíde’ ymb sund;

Hi wéopon and hi hréopon and hi sméadon þone grand.

Þa úp he sprang and hlúde sang, and hearde helman hrand:

‘Gáþ eft ongen! me béodeþ cwén on meremenna land.’

(Second refrain)

‘Tódǽlaþ nú mín ágen, pannan, páde, préon!

Gifaþ hrægelciste mínre nifte, méder míne méon!

Se stéorman stód on stefne wód, and he to brime béah;

Cwæþ: ‘Far nu wel! þe hæbbe Hel, déopan grunde néah!’

(First refrain)

(Old English)

ACROSS THE BROAD OCEAN

When the cold blast was blowing across the broad ocean, a young man fell into the sea, into the power of the monsters. As fast as fire he made his way, he swam along so quickly – until he met the mermen near the deep sea-bottom.

– Listen, I have seen the power of the kings of the people of the Spear-Danes in days gone by^* – and also the bridal beneath the sea, near the deep sea-bottom!

The mermaid then stood up from her chair, fawning with her shining tail: her greeting was good. Smirking with her lip she turned and stretched out her hand. ‘Now welcome indeed, my lord, to the mermen’s land!’

– Listen, I have discovered the power of the kings of the people of the Spear-Danes in days gone by – and also the bridal beneath the sea, in the mermen’s land!

‘I may not stay here any more, now separate from me!’ She said: ‘No, no, it will not be so! Now you will marry me. Now go back again and say: “I’ll go on the high sea no more. My wife is from the mermen near the deep sea-bottom.”’

His companions in the ship sought him far across the sea. They wept and cried out and scanned the sea-bottom. Then up he sprang and sang aloud and thrust hard at the rudder: ‘Go back again! The queen makes me an invitation, from the mermen’s land!’

‘Share out my goods, my pots and coats and brooches, give my clothes-chest to my niece and my shoes to my mother!’ The steersman stood angrily at the prow, and turned towards the sea, said: ‘Fare you well, and may Hell take you, near the deep sea-bottom.’

* Tolkien wrote three versions of the fifth and seventh lines of this stanza. The printed text of Songs reads Byrla! byrla! medu briht … Swinc tomorgen, drinc toniht!, or ‘Waiter! waiter! bright mead … work tomorrow, drink tonight!’ Tolkien rejected this in his corrected version, writing at the bottom ‘briht is not an OE form'. In the left-hand margin he wrote: Byrla medu! Byrla wín … Scenc nu his and scenc nu mín, or ‘Serve mead! Serve wine! … Now give him his and give me mine'. In the right-hand margin, in a more careful hand, he wrote the version used in text and translation above.

* This is a quotation from the first few words of Beowulf. One might paraphrase the refrain as saying that Tolkien wished for other epics more firmly centred on monsters.