Modern English Translation: Here King Ezelstan, lord of men, ring-giver of warriors, and his brother also, Eadmund the Fzeling, everlasting glory achieved in battle by the edges of swords near Brunanburh. They cleaved the shield-wall, hewed the war-lindens with the leavings of hammers, the offspring of Eadward, as befitted their descent from noble ancestors, that they often in battle against each enemy should defend the land, treasure and homes. The enemy perished, 10 Scots people and Vikings fell doomed. The field flowed with the blood of warriors, since the sun rose in the morning time, the glorious star glided over the ground, God’s bright candle, the eternal Lord’s, until the noble creature sank in setting. There lay many a man gored by spears, a man of the north shot over the shield; just as the Scots also, weary, sated with war. The West Saxons went forth 20 the long day with picked troops on the tracks of the hated people, fiercely cutting down from behind those in flight with file-sharpened swords. The Mercians did not refuse hard hand-play with any hero who with Olaf over the sea’s surge in a ship’s bosom sought land, doomed in battle. Five young kings lay on that battlefield, put to sleep by swords; likewise seven 30 jarls of Olaf, and countless numbers of the army, Vikings and Scots. There was put to flight the prince of the Northmen, compelled by necessity to the prow of his ship with little company; the ship pushed to sea, the king went out on the fallow flood: he saved his life. Likewise there all the old man in flight came to his northern kin, Costontinus,grey battle warrior; he had no cause to exult in the meeting of swords; he was stripped of kinsmen, 40 deprived of friends on the battlefield, slain in strife; and he left his son on the field of slaughter, destroyed by wounds, young at war. He had no need to boast, the grey-haired warrior, in the clash of swords, the malicious old man, no more than did Olaf; with their remnant of warriors; they had no cause for laughter that they had the better on the battle field in the clash of banners, the encounter of spears, the meeting of men, the exchange of blows 50 of those who on the field of slaughter with Edward’s sons played. Then departed the Northmen, the dreary survivors of spears, in nailed ships onto Dingesmere over deep water to seek Dublin, and again Ireland, ashamed in spirit. Likewise the brothers both together, king and atheling, sought their kinsmen, the land of West Saxons, exulting in war. They left behind them to enjoy corpses 60 the dark-coated one, the black raven, the horn-beaked one and the dun-coated one, the eagle white from behind, to enjoy the carrion, the greedy war-hawk, and the grey beast, the wolf in the forest. Never was there greater slaughter on this island ever yet of folk felled before this by the sword’s edge, of which books tell us, by wise old men, since from the east hither Angles and Saxons came up 70 over the broad seas seeking Britain, proud war-smiths, they overcame the Welsh, noble warriors, eager for glory, conquered the land.
