|12:21 pm - þéodcyninga þrym gefrúnon|
The Toast crashes any browser I own, including Chrome. So I shall stick the text of Cassandra Rasmussen's God-night Rune here. Those with later OSs than XP (which I think is what Chrome objects to) may want to view her other translations accessible from that site.
(For those who didn't study Old English, we're riffing off of both The Ruin and The Wanderer. while maintaining proper rules of Old English prosody at the same time as it employs modern English rhyme.)
Goodnight, Rune. Goodnight, Stone.
Goodnight to the sleeping king, laid alone.
Goodnight goblets, and golden plates,
Wondrous workmanship, wrecked by the Fates.
Farewell to the Feasting Hall, felled by time,
Goodnight to the ancient Gates, engraved with grime.
Where has gone the great hall, where the golden seats?
Goodnight to the grain bowl, the goodly meats.
Goodnight glories of tale-tellers, gifts to long ears,
Longing to listen, for legends of years.
Where now is the wall-clock, where the socks and mouse?
Where the comb and the cow, the carpet and house?
Alas for the song-spinners, the slurpers of mush.
Where is the old woman, whispering ‘hush’?
Goodnight to the earth-grip, goodnight giver of gold
who slumbers in silence, sun-robbed and cold.
Words wrought on tombs, worn beyond study.
Goodnight forgotten graves: goodnight nobody.
Goodnight, steely stars. Goodnight, silent air.
Goodnight to noises everywhere.