Arts & Sciences
Riddle XXI. A Plough
Translated by J. Duncan Spaeth, Old English Poetry (Princeton University Press, 1921) · From Exeter Book Riddles (selection)
My beak is below, I burrow and nose
Under the ground. I go as I'm guided
By my master the farmer, old foe of the forest;
Bent and bowed, at my back he walks,
Forward pushing me over the field;
Sows on my path where I've passed along.
I came from the wood, a wagon carried me;
I was fitted with skill, I am full of wonders.
As grubbing I go, there's green on one side,
But black on the other my path is seen.
A curious prong pierces my back;
Beneath me in front, another grows down
And forward pointing is fixed to my head.
I tear and gash the ground with my teeth,
If my master steer me with skill from behind.
Codex Note
One of roughly ninety riddles preserved in the Exeter Book; this is one of a further selection translated by J. Duncan Spaeth. The manuscript gives no solutions — titles here follow the translator's own guesses.
Cite this poem
MLA
Anonymous (Old English). “Riddle XXI. A Plough.” Translated by J. Duncan Spaeth, Old English Poetry. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/anonymous-old-english/32/.
Chicago
Anonymous (Old English). “Riddle XXI. A Plough.” Translated by J. Duncan Spaeth, Old English Poetry. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/anonymous-old-english/32/.
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