Selected Articles
from
The Gull Archives
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An Anglo Saxon Riddle
from Euriol of Lothian
I am the father of my flock,
a fence of firm wires filled
with dear treasures. By day I often
spit out spear-dread; I prosper the more
for my fullness. The lord beholds
how from my belly fly the battle-shafts.
Sometimes I swallow swart
brown weapons, bitter tips,
piercing spears of poison. My paunch is good,
a womb stuffed with wonders dear to warriors;
men remember what issues through my mouth.
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