brachistochrone poems

The Ruin

Wrætlic is þes wealstan, wyrde gebræcon;
burgstede burston, brosnað enta geweorc.
Hrofas sind gehrorene, hreorge torras,
hrungeat berofen, hrim on lime,
scearde scurbeorge scorene, gedrorene,
ældo undereotone. Eorðgrap hafað
waldend wyrhtan forweorone, geleorene,
heardgripe hrusan, oþ hund cnea
werþeoda gewitan.

Wondrous is this masonry, broken by fates
Battlements shattered, the work of giant’s overthrown.
The roofs are ruined, towers fallen,
the barred gate broken, frost on the plaster,
walls gape, torn up, destroyed,
consumed by age. The earth holds
the proud builders, departed, long lost,
in the hard grasp of the grave,
until a hundred generations have passed.

From The Exeter Book - c.980