Written for the Tempore Atlantia Competition, Spring Crown Tournament, A.S. XL
To my people, he is like a present one gives
Him they will kill if he comes to their camp;
Unalike it is for us.
Wulf on one island I on another.
Fast is that island by fens surrounded.
Bloodthirsty men abide on that island.
Him they will kill if he comes to their camp;
Unalike it is for us.
My thoughts and hopes far-traveled to Wulf.
When it was rainy weather wailing I sat.
When the battle-bold man bore me in his arms
There was joy to a point but pain was that also.
Wulf, my Wulf! It was wishing for you
That made me sick; your seldom-comings
Made my mind troubled, not missing meals.
Do you hear, Eadwacer? Our wretched whelp
A wolf bears to woods.
One easily tears apart what united never was
Our song together.
