Woruldwæter welgestmned, werodlice singþ leoþuran
Ærendscip ærhwilup stranglic, æne forworen
His wæde oþ nu yþgian wiþ westwind, wæderapas orped
Setlgang sworetlendic, symble tosigen
Felagonge faroþlacende, forðsend fylgan eaggemearc
On last willan æmtian, aspendian symnihte on sunnuppe
Selfdéma æfre in his cnearr oferufa deop, fulluht underfon ðæron
Edniwinga gesiglan nihtlang, endleas earendel
The sea with a good voice, sings a mysterious song
A small ship once mighty, for the first time worn out
His sails until now overflowing with westerly wind, rigging full of strength
At sunset short of breath, forever to be threadbare
Having travelled much, being tossed on the waves, sent forth to hunt the horizon
At last will be free from toil, to spend the eternal night at the place of sunrise
A monk subject to his own rules always in his small ship above water, to receive baptism therein
Like new to reach by sailing through the night, the eternal dawn
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