Arts & Sciences
Riddle I. A Storm
Translated by Cosette Faust Newton & Stith Thompson (1918) · From Exeter Book Riddles (selection)
What man is so clever, so crafty of mind,
As to say for a truth who sends me a-traveling?
When I rise in my wrath, raging at times,
Savage is my sound. Sometimes I travel,
Go forth among the folk, set fire to their homes
And ravage and rob them; then rolls the smoke
Gray over the gables; great is the noise,
The death-struggle of the stricken. Then I stir up the woods
And the fruitful forests; I fell the trees,
I, roofed over with rain, on my reckless journey,
Wandering widely at the will of heaven.
I bear on my back the bodily raiment,
The fortunes of folk, their flesh and their spirits,
Or what I am called, who carry this burden?
Codex Note
One of roughly ninety riddles preserved in the Exeter Book; this is one of a small selection translated by Faust & Thompson. The manuscript gives no solutions — titles here follow the translators' own guesses.
Cite this poem
MLA
Anonymous (Old English). “Riddle I. A Storm.” Translated by Cosette Faust Newton and Stith Thompson. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/anonymous-old-english/17/.
Chicago
Anonymous (Old English). “Riddle I. A Storm.” Translated by Cosette Faust Newton and Stith Thompson. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/anonymous-old-english/17/.
Read this poem with the Codex →