Brinner ner, hans minne består
Southern songs called from across the sea
Twelve winters of grief in Heorot
A hell-forged misery (so begins his story)
Hrothgar's bane, mearc-stapa, quarry for his fame
Twas drubbed, mutilated, retreated to die in the marshes
Her son was slain, provoking vengeance
Aeschere's murder, reprisal
The ghastly message was sent (ruthless recompense)
The Ides Aglæcwif... Hrothgar commanded him to take her life
A clash ensued and with holy sword she was slew
Returned to Geatland, he'd succeed Hygelac for the throne
50 years passed, a thief disturbed a great dragon's sleep
Fire unleashed, its barrow ransacked, ruin befell the land
Sensing his end, the potential renown
He embarked to battle the beast, ära
Dragon die!
With my help we succeeded in slaying the beast but a terrible price
Bitten during the battle, Beowulf lay dying from a fiery venom
Life fading, he demanded to see the treasure won from our victory
Sorrow and sadness overtook him as he slowly slipped away
He saw us for soldiers, for men
And they answered with their cowardice
Now they foresee enemies on the rampage, bodies in piles, and misery
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