Because most philosophies that frown on reproduction don't survive.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

þæs ofereode, þisses swa mæg!



John Farrell gives a beautiful recitation, in Old English, of the melancholy Anglo-Saxon poem Deor. The recurring sigh at the end of each stanza is this line:
þæs ofereode, þisses swa mæg! 
That passed over, this so may.

2 comments:

Banshee said...

We have no songs
from Heorrenda,
But Deor's name's
still sweet to say -
And still it gives us heart
to murmur,
"That sorrow passed;
so this one may."

Deor, master
of survival
And of stubborn
singing, pray
For us in the
Heaven-kingdom:
Your sorrow passed;
so this one may.


mrsdarwin said...

Banshee, that's lovely.