Wulf and Eadwacer (Old English recitation)

Wulf and Eadwacer is one of the most unusual and enigmatic poems of the Old English corpus. It is found in folios 100v-101r of the Exeter Book (Codex Exoniensis), the same manuscript in which many other significant Anglo-Saxon poetic works, including The Wanderer, are found. The Exeter Book itself was compiled some time between 960 and 990CE, though in all likelihood this poem was composed significantly earlier, possibly in the early 9th century CE. Wulf and Eadwacer is unusual for several reasons. In its elegiac tone and atmospheric evocation of place, it is characteristically Anglo-Saxon. But the female narration and presence of a textual refrain, both very rare features in English poetry from this period, point to possible influences from other poetic traditions. The poem’s uncertain origins notwithstanding, there are significant difficulties in interpreting the poem, including such aspects as basic as the number of characters. The unnamed narrator, who we know to be female due to the feminine -u inflection in ’iċ rēotugu’ (’I, the weeping one’), is lamenting her separation from Wulf, her husband or lover. Eadwacer may be a third character -- traditionally characterised as the narrator’s husband, in which case the poem can be read as a love triangle between the woman and Wulf (her lover) and Eadwacer (her jealous husband). However, it is also possible that ’ēadwacer’ is not a proper noun but a common noun, with the meaning ’property-watcher’ or ’sky-watcher,’ in which case the poem can be read as the narrator railing against Wulf, her absent husband, who will not pay attention even when their child is being borne away into the woods. Recorded at Tūhura/The HIVE at Johnsonville Library in Wellington, New Zealand. Special thanks to Wellington City Libraries. Old English text: Lēodum is mīnum swylċe him mon lāc ġife; willað hȳ hine āþeċġan ġif hē on þrēat cymeð. Unġelīċ is ūs. Wulf is on īeġe, iċ on ōþerre. Fæst is þæt ēġlond, fenne biworpen. Sindon wælrēowe weras þǣr on īġe; willað hȳ hine āþeċġan ġif hē on þrēat cymeð. Unġelīċe is ūs. Wulfes iċ mīnes wīdlāstum wēnum dogode, þonne hit wæs rēniġ weder ond iċ rēotugu sæt, þonne mec se beaducāfa bōgum bileġde, wæs mē wyn tō þon, wæs mē hwæþre ēac lāð. Wulf, mīn Wulf! wēna mē þīne sēoċe ġedydon, þīne seldcymas, murnende mōd, nales metelīste. Ġehȳrest þū, Ēadwacer? Uncerne eargne hwelp bireð wulf tō wuda. Þæt mon ēaþe tōslīteð þætte nǣfre ġesomnad wæs, uncer ġiedd ġeador. Modern English translation: To my people he is like a blood-gift; they will devour him if he approaches their pack. It is different with us. Wulf is on an island, I on another. That island is fast, enwarped with fens. On this island, slaughter-cruel men are; they will devour him if he approaches their pack. It is different with us. I hounded Wulf with my wide-ranging hopes, when it was rainy weather and I sat, wailing; then the battle-strong boughs enclosed me: for me there was joy, but also loathing. Wulf, my Wulf! My desire for you has made me sick, (your seldom-comings, my mourning mind), more than meals missed. Do you hear, Eadwacer? Our wretched whelp a wolf bears to the woods. One can easily sever that which was never joined: our song together.