VIII

There the bodies, bathed of their sins,

Shall go in gladness; again shall their spirits

520 To their bony frames, and the fire shall burn,

Mounting high to heaven. Hot shall be to many

That awful flame, when every man,

Unblemished or sinful, his soul in his body,

From the depths of his grave seeks the doom of God,

525 Frightfully afraid. The fire shall save men,

Burning all sin. So shall the blessed

After weary wandering, with their works be clothed,

With the fruit of their deeds: fair are these roots,

These winsome flowers that the wild fowl

530 Collects to lay on his lovely nest

In order that easily his own fair home

May burn in the sun, and himself along with it,

And so after the fire he finds him new life;

So every man in all the world

535 Shall be covered with flesh, fair and comely,

And always young, if his own choice leads him

To work God's will; then the world's high King

Mighty at the meeting mercy will grant him.

Then the hymns shall rise high from the holy band,

540 The chosen souls shall chant their songs,

In praise of the powerful Prince of men,

Strain upon strain, and strengthened and fragrant

Of their godly works they shall wend to glory.

Then are men's spirits made spotless and bright

545 Through the flame of the fire-- refined and made pure.

In all the earth let not anyone ween

That I wrought this lay with lying speech,

With hated word-craft! Hear ye the wisdom

Of the hymns of Job! With heart of joy

550 And spirit brave, he boldly spoke;

With wondrous sanctity that word he said:

"I feel it a fact in the fastness of my soul

That one day in my nest death I shall know,

And weary of heart woefully go hence,

555 Compassed with clay, on my closing journey,

Mournful of mind, in the moldy earth.

And through the gift of God I shall gain once more

Like the Phoenix fowl, a fair new life,

On the day of arising from ruinous death,

560 Delights with God, where the loving throng

Are exalting their Lord. I look not at all

Ever to come to the end of that life

Of light and bliss, though my body shall lie

In its gruesome grave and grow decayed,

565 A joy to worms; for the Judge of the world

Shall save my soul, and send it to glory

After the time of death. I shall trust forever

With steadfast breast, in the Strength of angels;

Firm is my faith in the Father of all."

570 Thus sang the sage his song of old,

Herald to God, with gladsome heart:

How he was lifted to life eternal.

Then we may truly interpret the token clearly

Which the glorious bird gave through its burning.

575 It gathers together the grim bone-remnants,

The ashes and embers all into one place

After the surge of the fire; the fowl then seizes it

With its feet and flies to the Father's garden

Towards the sun; for a time there he sojourns,

580 For many winters, made in new wise,

All of him young; nor may any there yearn

To do him menace with deeds of malice.

So may after death by the Redeemer's might

Souls go with bodies, bound together,

585 Fashioned in loveliness, most like to that fowl,

In rich array, with rare perfumes,

Where the steadfast sun streams its light

O'er the sacred hosts in the happy city.

Old English Poems Translated into the Original Meter Together with Short Selections from Old English Prose · 第 98 / 120 题