Lo! To me a wise man in the elder days, a wise messenger, told of many special wonders, opened the word-hoard, a wise man with lore. A man wise by books bid with previously spoken words so that I afterwards truly might be able to understand God’s own son (a welcome guest in places) and then in the same way [understand] the weaker, deprived due to sins.
That may be easily understood by each man, he who does not let pride of mind—in this loaned time—obstruct his mind, and in days allow drunkenness to rule where there are many holding a meeting, proud war-smiths in the friend-city.
They sit at the feast, perform true songs, exchange words, discover what strife-place may remain among the mean dwelling in the hall, when wine whets the hearts of men.
Noise mounts up, an outcry in the troop, voices ring variously.
So are minds/spirits divided into portions, are un-alike.
One in over-pride rushes in force, swells inward, for him an unmeasured mind. There are too many like that. That one is all filled by the flying arrows of the enemy, with treacherousness. He cries and cries out, boasts very much of himself, more than the better man, thinks his behavior seems correct to all.
There it will be otherwise, when he finds the result of his hate.
He twists and cheats, thinks much of tricks, lets loose mind-spears, shoots showers.
He then may not know the guilt he has accomplished through hostility. He hates his better, the earl, due to spite, and lets hostile arrows fly through the city wall, the war-seat that his ruler had commanded him to defend.
He sits, feast-proud, overcome by wine, allows his words with skill to fare out, seeking a quarrel, swollen with spite and full of over-pride, with hostility and enmity.
Now you may know, if you meet such a thane in the dwelling place, know a few forth-speakings about this, that this is a child of the enemy wrapped in flesh, has a twisted life, an abyss-eager spirit, is worthless to God.
So that wise one sang, the ready-speaking man, and that sermon performed:
He who himself through pride in the time of hostility, through over-pride, raises himself up through arrogance, he shall become humiliated, after the death-journey, dragged down to dwell fast in suffering, thronged round with worms.
Just as it was long ago in the kingdom of God that over-pride mounted up among the angels, widely famous strife. Wrath rose up, a hard battle-attack. They polluted heaven, hated the one better than them, when they intended to deprive the valor-king of his throne, bereave him of his kingdom, as was not right, and then set in their own judgment in the, in the land of glory.
The father of creation withstood that war; the fight became too grim for them.
But there is for the other a different result, he who here on earth leaves in humility and holds with brotherhood to each other one forever, people among the folk, and loves his enemy, though he has often been angered by him in this world.
He may in the joy of wonder, in the hope of saints, rise up from here to the land of the angels.
It will not be so for the other one, he who lives in sins, in miserable deeds, in pride; it will not be the same for them from the king of glory.
Know you about this. If you meet a humble-minded earl, a thane in the troop, a hoped-for guess, God’s own son, wished for in this world: if the wise one did not lie to me.
Therefore we must always think, remember in mind, the counsel necessary for salvation, each time, remember in each of our hearts the greatest ruler of victories. Amen.
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