DerFaulePoet

A translation of the Old English poem 'Wulf and Eadwacer' Like ointment to a wound, what salvation would it be To sink their teeth into his flesh to satisfy their greed. Such is my kin’s desire, if he invades their company. We are not the same. My Wulf dwells on an island shut, another prisons me. A stronghold forged by natures craft, bound by the marshes’ sea, ruled by men of cruel mien, with heinous fantasies, for they wish to stain their blades to satisfy their greed. We are different. My thoughts stray after Wulfe’s trail, When wind and water hide my wail, When taken by the warrior’s arms, My body’s b