Leodum is minum swylce him mon lac gife;

For my people it is, as if a prize is presented; they will devour him, should he dare to come in a raiding troop. Our fates are not the same.

Wulf is on one island, I on another. Fast is that island, by fen surrounded. Slaughter-cruel men stalk on that island; they will devour him, should he dare to come in a raiding troop. Our fates are not the same.

For my Wulf I have waited, for his wide wanderings I have longed; when the rainy weather came and I sat racked with sorrow, then the battle-bold one bound me in his arms, it was a joy to me, and yet it was a horror.

Wulf, my Wulf, your absence has made me sick, your seldom-comings, a mourning mind—not a lack of meat.

Do you hear, Eadwacer? Our wretched whelp a wolf bears to the woods.

Torn apart with ease is that which was never together, our song together.