Those who have been following my Facebook fan page will know that I have been working on a translation of "The Wander" from Anglo-Saxon. I aim to use it in a longer performance piece about a long distance lorry driver. This is my initial go at the first fourteen lines. Notice that I have tried to keep as closely as possible to the original form of Anglo-Saxon poetry with each line given two alliterative words before a caesura and a third one after.
Sometimes solitary, he finds solace
And redemption on the road, regardless that, sadly,
For many months he must steer
Following freeways, and the frozen highway
In the paths of asylum seekers. The satnav is always in control!
So moaned the driver,mindful of mishap,
Of fierce fatal pile ups and the fate of mates:
Often alone, I had Only myself to share my trouble
Each day-break before dawn. I doubt there is one soul
To whom I dare directly divulge
Those secret thoughts. I think it’s true,
That everyone else expects the attitude,
That you should firmly fasten, your fuel tank of beliefs,
Guard your toolchest of thought, think as you wish.