On the waters floating three good ships were seen

On the waters floating three good ships were seen, With new and well-made flatboats; they bore across the main Those who on their clothing never yet wore crosses, Their love to God thus showing. The Normans must from them meet heavy losses.

As they the shore were nearing, one on the ships might see Helmets brightly shining. No more from care were free King Ludwig and his kinsmen, and harm their fears foreboded: “Look there!” then shouted Hartmut; “with grimmest foes of mine these ships are loaded.”

The ships were turned so quickly that now men loudly heard Rudders strained and cracking, held by those who steered. Both the young and aged, who on the sea-sands rested, Were indeed bewildered when to spring on shore the foeman hasted.

Ludwig and young Hartmut their shields in hand now bore. For them it had been easier to reach their homes once more If they had not too freely their rest on the island taken: They had falsely reckoned that Hettel had now no friends, and was all forsaken.

Ludwig called out loudly to all his trusty men, (He thought it child’s play only that he before had seen,) “Now with worthy foemen must I, at length, be striving! He shall be the richer who ’neath my flag his help to me is giving.”

Soon was Hartmut’s banner raised upon the shore. The ships had now come nearer; with spears the Normans bore To reach the foe were easy from where they now were waiting: I ween the aged Wâ-te was ready with his shield, the foeman meeting.

Ne’er before so grimly did champions guard their land. Boldly the Hegeling warriors nearer pressed to the strand; Soon they met the Normans with sword and spear, undaunted; Blows they freely bartered: such bargains cheaply given no more they wanted.

Everywhere the Hegelings sprang upon the shore. After a wind from the hill-tops was never seen before Snow so thickly whirling as spears from hands that threw them: Though they had done it gladly idle it were to shun the strokes that slew them.

Thick fly the spears on both sides: the time but slowly goes, Till they on the beach are standing. Quickly on his foes Sprang the aged Wâ-te, just as they were nearing; His mood was of the grimmest, and soon they saw what mind he now was bearing.

Ludwig, king of the Normans, then at Wâ-te ran, And hurled a spear well sharpened against the brave old man. The shaft, in splinters shattered, high thro’ air went crashing, For Ludwig drove it bravely; soon to the fight came Wâ-te’s kinsmen dashing.

With a heavy stroke, old Wâ-te Ludwig’s helmet cut; The edge of the sword he wielded the head of his foeman smote, Who beneath his breastplate a shirt of silk was wearing; (In Abalie ’twas woven;) were it not for this, his end he must be nearing.

Hardly from him could Ludwig with life and limb go free; The spot he would fain be leaving, for Wâ-te was ill to see When he was roused to anger, and to win the day was trying: Struck by his hand were many, who, brave in warfare, now on the field lay dying.

Irold and young Hartmut each on the other sprang: On either side their weapons on the foeman’s helmet rang; Throughout the throng of fighters, all could hear it loudly; For bold in war was Irold, and Hartmut, too, was brave, and bore him proudly.

Herwic from the Sealands, a warrior strong and good, Could not reach the landing, but leaped into the flood, And in the waves was standing, up to his shoulders hidden. Soon to his cost was he learning how hard a task it is to win a maiden.

They the shore who guarded their foemen thought to drown While in the waters struggling. Shafts at them were thrown, And many on them broken; but they, their foes now seeking, Soon the sands were treading, and many a knight his wrath on them was wreaking.

Ere they had reached the shoreland, one saw the watery flood Dyed by the killed and wounded, in hue as red as blood; Everywhere, so widely the reddened waves were flowing, One could not shoot beyond them, how far soe’er he might his spear be throwing.

Heavier toil and losses heroes never found, And never so many warriors lay trampled on the ground: Enough were they for a kingdom who lay, unwounded, dying. The Normans who o’erthrew them, on all sides too, I ween, in death were lying.

It was to save his daughter that there King Hettel fought, And all his kinsmen with him. On every side were wrought, By him and those who helped him, havoc and bitter sorrow. Dead on the Wulpensand were many bodies found before the morrow.

Unto their lords all faithful, they strove upon the sand,— Alike the men of Normandy and they of the Hegeling land. Warriors brave from Denmark fought with matchless daring; He ne’er should wait their onset who much for his welfare or his life was caring.

Morunc and with him Ortwin boldly held their ground, And for themselves won honor; nowhere could be found Men who greater slaughter wrought, with hearts undaunted: The heroes twain, with their followers, gave full many wounds, with spears well planted.