I am sun-struck, rapt with flame
Flush with glory, flirt with the wind–
I am clutched by storm and touched by fire,
Ripe for the road, bloom-wood or blaze.
My path through the hall is hand to hand
As friends raise me, proud men and women
Clutch and kiss me, praise my power
And bow before me. To many I bring
A ripe bliss, a rich blooming.
–Prior to 10th century AD (p. 88, A Feast of Creatures: Anglo-Saxon Riddle Songs, trans. by Craig Williamson)
Middle-earth is made lovely in unmatched ways
Rich and rare. I saw a strange creature
Riding the road, weird craft and power
From the workshops of men. She came sliding
Up on the shore, shrieking without sight,
Eyes, arms, shoulders, hands–
Sailed on one foot over smooth plains–
Treasure and haul. Mouth in the middle
Of a hoard of ribs. She carries corn-
Gold, grain-treasure, wine-wealth.
The feast-floater brings in her belly food
For rich and poor. Let the wise who catch
The drift of this riddle say what I mean.
–p. 90, A Feast of Creatures: Anglo-Saxon Riddle Songs, trans. by Craig Williamson