The Wife's Lament

"The Wife's Lament" may be the oldest extant English poem written by a female poet, unless "Wulf and Eadwacer" is older...

THE WIFE’S LAMENT

"The Wife's Lament" ― also known as "The Wife's Complaint" ― is an Old English/Anglo-Saxon poem from the Exeter Book, the oldest extant English poetry anthology. The Angles and Saxons were Germanic tribes and the poem is generally considered to be an elegy in the tradition of the German frauenlied, or "woman's song." Its main theme is the mourning of a lost or unrequited love, or perhaps a more general complaint about women being dominated by chauvinistic men and thus being forced to live subservient existences. (The poem may be considered an early feminist text: perhaps a very early precursor of The Handmaid's Tale.) The Exeter Book has been dated to 960-990 AD, so the poem was written no later than the tenth century, perhaps earlier. The version below is my modern English translation of one of the greatest poems of English antiquity.

The Wife's Lament
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I draw these dark words from deep wells of wild grief,
dredged up from my heart, regretful & sad.
I recount wrenching seizures I've suffered since birth,
both ancient and recent, that drove me mad.

I have reaped, from my exile-paths, only pain
here on earth.

First, my Lord forsook his kinfolk―left,
crossed the seas' shining expanse, deserted our tribe.
Since then, I've known only loneliness:
wrenching dawn-griefs, despair in wild tides ...
Where, oh where can he be?

Then I, too, left—a lonely, lordless refugee,
full of unaccountable desires!
But the man's kinsmen schemed to estrange us,
divide us, keep us apart.

Divorced from hope, unable to embrace him,
how my helpless heart
broke! ...

Then my Lord spoke:
"Take up residence here."
I had few acquaintances in this alien land, none close.
I was penniless, friendless;
Christ, I felt lost!

Eventually
I believed I'd met a well-matched man—one meant for me,
but unfortunately
he
was ill-starred, unkind,
with a devious mind,
full of malicious intentions,
plotting some crime!

Before God we
vowed never to part, not till kingdom come, never!
But now that's all changed, forever—
our marriage is done, severed.

Thus now I must hear,
far and near,
early and late,
contempt for my mate.

Then naysayers bade me, "Go, seek repentance in the sacred grove,
beneath the great oak trees, in some root-entangled grotto, alone."

Now in this ancient earth-hall I huddle, hurt and oppressed—
the dales are dark, the hills wild & immense,
and this cruel-briared enclosure—a hellish abode!

How the injustice assails me—my Lord's absence!
Elsewhere on earth lovers share the same bed
while I pass through life, half dead,
in this dark abscess where I wilt with the heat, unable to rest
or forget the tribulations of my life's hard lot.

A young woman must always be
stern, hard-of-heart, unmoved, full of belief,
enduring breast-cares, suppressing her own feelings.
She must always appear cheerful,
even in a tumult of grief.

Now, like a criminal exiled to a distant land,
groaning beneath insurmountable cliffs,
my weary-minded lover, drenched by wild storms
and caught in the clutches of anguish, moans and mourns,
reminded constantly of our former happiness.

Woe be it to them who abide in longing!

Related poems include the evocative Anglo-Saxon classic Wulf and Eadwacer which may be the first English poem written by a female poet that remains known to us today ... unless The Wife's Lament is even more ancient! It also seems quite possible that The Husband's Message, also found in the Exeter Book, is a response to The Wife's Lament.

The Wife's Lament is similar to The Wanderer and The Seafarer in that they are three Old English "sea sagas" told in the first person with considerable anguish and lamentation. Related land-based Anglo-Saxon laments include Deor’s Lament (below) and The Ruin. On the much shorter Anglo-Saxon side are Bede's Death Song and Anglo-Saxon Riddles and Kennings.

Other notable early English laments include Lament for the Makaris by the ancient Scottish poet William Dunbar and the shorter Middle English laments This World's Joy and How Long the Night.

WULF AND EADWACER

"Wulf and Eadwacer" is an anonymous Old English/Anglo-Saxon poem noted for its rich ambiguity and in all likelihood written by a female scop, circa 960-990 AD, if not earlier.

Wulf and Eadwacer
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.
Ungelīc is ūs! (It is otherwise with us!)

Wulf's on one island; I'm 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.
Ungelīc is ūs! (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, to a point, but the end 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.

THE HUSBAND’S MESSAGE

"The Husband's Message" or "The Husband's Lament" is an Old English (i.e. Anglo-Saxon) poem from the Exeter Book, the oldest extant English poetry anthology. "The Husband's Message" may or may not be a reply to "The Wife's Lament," another poem in the same collection. The Angles and Saxons were Germanic tribes and the poem is generally considered to be an Anglo-Saxon riddle (I will provide the solution), but its primary focus is on persuading a wife or pledged fiancée to join her husband or betrothed and fulfill her promises to him. The Exeter Book has been dated to 960-990 AD, so the poem was probably written no later than the tenth century, and perhaps earlier. The version below is my modern English translation of one of the earliest poems of English antiquity. There are links to other translations below the poem, including the evocative Anglo-Saxon classic "Wulf and Eadwacer." The latter is perhaps the first English poem by a female poet that remains known to us today ... unless "The Wife's Lament" is even more ancient!

The Husband's Message or The Husband's Lament
anonymous Old English poem, circa 960-990 AD
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

See, I unseal myself for your eyes only!
I sprang from a seed to a sapling,
waxed great in a wood,
was given knowledge,
was ordered across saltstreams in ships
where I stiffened my spine, standing tall,
till, entering the halls of heroes,
I honored my manly Lord.

Now I stand here on this ship’s deck,
an emissary ordered to inform you
of the love my Lord feels for you.
I have no fear forecasting his heart steadfast,
his honor bright, his word true.

He who bade me come carved this letter
and entreats you to recall, clad in your finery,
what you promised each other many years before,
mindful of his treasure-laden promises.

He reminds you how, in those distant days,
witty words were pledged by you both
in the mead-halls and homesteads:
how he would be Lord of the lands
you would inhabit together
while forging a lasting love.

Alas, a vendetta drove him far from his feuding tribe,
but now he instructs me to gladly give you notice
that when you hear the returning cuckoo's cry
cascading down warming coastal cliffs,
come over the sea! Let no man hinder your course.

He earnestly urges you: Out! To sea!
Away to the sea, when the circling gulls
hover over the ship that conveys you to him!

Board the ship that you meet there:
sail away seaward to seek your husband,
over the seagulls' range,
over the paths of foam.
For over the water, he awaits you.

He cannot conceive, he told me,
how any keener joy could comfort his heart,
nor any greater happiness gladden his soul,
than that a generous God should grant you both
to exchange rings, then give gifts to trusty liege-men,
golden armbands inlaid with gems to faithful followers.

The lands are his, his estates among strangers,
his new abode fair and his followers true,
all hardy heroes, since hence he was driven,
shoved off in his ship from these shore in distress,
steered straightway over the saltstreams, sped over the ocean,
a wave-tossed wanderer winging away.

But now the man has overcome his woes,
outpitted his perils, lives in plenty, lacks no luxury,
has a hoard and horses and friends in the mead-halls.

All the wealth of the earth's great earls
now belongs to my Lord ...
He only lacks you.

He would have everything within an earl's having,
if only my Lady will come home to him now,
if only she will do as she swore and honor her vow.

The Husband's Message: Summary, Analysis, Theme, Tone, Authorship and Review

Summary/Analysis/Theme/Plot: The solution to the riddle may seem a bit obscure to modern readers. Rather than sending a mundane love letter to his fiancée, the earl has sent a talkative emissary ... in the form of a staff carved with runes, perhaps fashioned of inlaid gems or crystals. This is why the emissary begins by saying he "sprang from a seed to a sapling" and "waxed great in a wood." The emissary began life as a sapling, grew up to be a tree, then was cut down and became a staff. Then runes were affixed with the plan for the young lovers to be reunited at long last. Is this poem related to "The Wife's Lament," in which a woman separated from the man she loves, whom she calls her "Lord," complains bitterly that members of the man's family or tribe have conspired to keep them apart? While there is no way to be sure, it seems very possible to me that "The Husband's Message" is a reply to "The Wife's Lament."

Tone: The tone of the poem and the speaker's voice can be described as: loving, hopeful, optimistic. But there also seems to be some degree of worry that the woman may not honor her youthful vow.

Authorship: The poem's author remains unknown.

Similar/Related Poems: "The Husband's Message" seems possibly related to "The Wife's Lament" and to other riddle poems that appear in The Exeter Book.

Interpretation

How can we interpret "The Husband's Message"?

Other than the riddle, the poem seems to be pretty straightforward: A man of significant prominence, an earl, was pledged to marry a girl or young woman of similar prominence, but had to flee due to a feud or vendetta of some sort. He has now established himself securely across the sea and wants to be reunited with his lover. Or perhaps they were married and became separated when he fled.

DEOR’S LAMENT

"Deor's Lament" is one of the best and most important poems of English antiquity. Written in Anglo-Saxon English, or Old English, it still speaks to us today and tells us “the more things change the more they stay the same.” One of Trump’s disgruntled underlings might voice similar complaints, or one of Putin’s, Jong-un’s, et al.

Deor's Lament
Anglo-Saxon poem circa the 10th century AD
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Weland endured the agony of exile:
an indomitable smith wracked by grief.
He suffered countless sorrows;
indeed, such sorrows were his bosom companions
in that frozen island dungeon
where Nithad fettered him:
so many strong-but-supple sinew-bands
binding the better man.
That passed away; this also may.

Beadohild mourned her brothers' deaths,
bemoaning also her own sad state
once she discovered herself with child.
She knew nothing good could ever come of it.
That passed away; this also may.

We have heard the Geat's moans for Matilda,
his lovely lady, waxed limitless,
that his sorrowful love for her
robbed him of regretless sleep.
That passed away; this also may.

For thirty winters Theodric ruled
the Mæring stronghold with an iron hand;
many acknowledged his mastery and moaned.
That passed away; this also may.

We have heard too of Ermanaric's wolfish ways,
of how he cruelly ruled the Goths' realms.
That was a grim king! Many a warrior sat,
full of cares and maladies of the mind,
wishing constantly that his crown might be overthrown.
That passed away; this also may.

If a man sits long enough, sorrowful and anxious,
bereft of joy, his mind constantly darkening,
soon it seems to him that his troubles are limitless.
Then he must consider that the wise Lord
often moves through the earth
granting some men honor, glory and fame,
but others only shame and hardship.
This I can say for myself:
that for awhile I was the Heodeninga's scop,
dear to my lord. My name was Deor.
For many winters I held a fine office,
faithfully serving a just king. But now Heorrenda
a man skilful in songs, has received the estate
the protector of warriors had promised me.
That passed away; this also may.

LAMENT TO THE SPIRIT OF WAR

“Lament to the Spirit of War” may be the oldest extant lament. It was written by
Enheduanna, the daughter of the famous King Sargon the Great of Akkad. The poetess/priestess Enheduanna is the first ancient writer whose name remains known today. She appears to be the first named poet in human history, the first known author of prayers and hymns, and the first librarian and anthologist. Enheduanna was an innovator, doing things that had never been done before, as she said herself:

These are my innovations,
O Mighty Queen, Inanna, that I made for You!
What I composed for You by the dark of night,
The cantor will chant by day.
—Enheduanna, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Enheduanna, who lived circa 2285-2250 BCE, is also one of the first women we know by name. She was the entu (high priestess) of the goddess Inanna (Ishtar/Astarte) and the moon god Nanna (Sin) in the Sumerian city-state of Ur. Enheduanna composed and/or compiled 42 liturgical hymns addressed to temples across Sumer and Akkad. She was also the first editor of a poetry anthology, hymnal or songbook, and the first known poet to write in the first person. Her Sumerian Temple Hymns was the first collection of its kind; indeed, Enheduanna so claimed in closing: "My king, something has been created that no one had created before." Today poems and songs are still being assembled via the model she established over 4,000 years ago! Enheduanna may also have been the first feminist, as she elevated her goddess Inanna over all the male gods of her people’s pantheon!

Lament to the Spirit of War
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You hack down everything you see, War God!

Rising on fearsome wings
you rush to destroy our land:
raging like thunderstorms,
howling like hurricanes,
screaming like tempests,
thundering, raging, ranting, drumming,
whiplashing whirlwinds!

Men falter at your approaching footsteps.

Tortured dirges scream on your lyre of despair.

Like a fiery Salamander you poison the land:
growling over the earth like thunder,
vegetation collapsing before you,
blood gushing down mountainsides.

Spirit of hatred, greed and vengeance!

Dominatrix of heaven and earth!

Your ferocious fire consumes our land.

Whipping your stallion
with furious commands,
you impose our fates.

You triumph over all human rites and prayers.

Who can explain your tirade,
why you carry on so?

If you want to learn more about the origins of English poetry, please check out English Poetic Roots: A Brief History of Rhyme.