Gawain, 390 - 416, the knight is kind of into Gawain (and a defence of Wynn)

Some of you may have noticed, in the first stanza of Gawain, the line;

"On many banks full broad Britain he sets
with wynne."

Which is unusual for this translation since, though I always try to keep the sonic structure of a line as close to the original as I can without making it unreadable, I generally don't leave in full old-english words that are no longer in any use.

'Wynne' in this case, means 'Joy', but 'Wyn' or 'Wen' is also an old letter in our alphabet, and one we should have back.

Though they aren't exactly the same, 'Wynn' is essentially double-you or 'W'. It fell out of use in english around the 15th century, which I believe was a deep mistake on our part.

Reasons its better than 'W':

- It has a deeper resonance, it relates to the old rune meaning 'joy' which opens up a whole range of poetic and literary possibilities in which the letter, the sound of the letter and the name of the letter can all play a part.

- It is a one-syllable name that matches the sound of the letter, like every other fucking letter that isn't double-you. Why the fucking fuck should it take so fucking time to say "double-you" when you could just say "wynne", which is both a more beautiful sound but also more efficient! How often do you get beauty and usability combined in one thing? We had it and we threw it away to use that shitty printers-error frankenletter "double-you".

(Every time you give someone a web address you would be saying "Wynne, wynne, wynne" which would mean "Joy, joy, joy.")

- It has a cool old sign that, crucially, isn't two other fucking letters from the alphabet stapled together like a pair of idiots. IT'S LITERALLY JUST TWO U'S. It's like what a fucking moron would do if you asked them to design a new letter.

I also want Thorn back.


(Your daily Gawain below.)

"By God," said the green knight, "Sir Gawain, I like
That I shall have from your hand what I here request.
And you have readily rehearsed, by reason full true,
Cleanly all the covenant that I the king asked,
Save that you shall commit sir, by your clean name,
That you shall seek me yourself, where-so you hope
I may exist upon earth, and entertain repayment
Of what you deal me to-day before these dukes rich."
"How do I find you," said Gawain, "where is your place?
No map shows your mansion, by him that me made
I know not thee, knight, thy court nor thy name
But teach me truly thereto, and tell me where you live
And I shall work all my wit to win my way there,
And that I swear thee for certain, by my sacred cinquefoil."
"That is enough in New Year; it needs no more,"
Said the guy in green to kind Gawain.
"If I thee tell truly, when I have had the tap
And thou smoothly has smited me, I'll swiftly thee teach
Of my house and my home and my own name,
Then may you ask for my kindness, and contract keep;
And if I spend no speech, then speeds you the better,
For you may live in your land as long as you like,
Enough!
Take now thy grim tool to thee
And lets see how you knocks,"
"Gladly, just my cup of tea,"
Smiled Gawain; his axe he strokes.

Gawain 366 - 389, Gawain requests the game.

(I am translating the old-english poem 'Gawain and the Green Knight. The poem itself runs from one Yuletide, through the other, ending twelve months and a day after it began  so I am doing one or two stanzas every day, ending on Christmas day.)

"Would you, worthy lord," said Gawain to the king,
"Bid me break from this bench and stand by you there,
That I without villainy might void this table,
(And if my liege lady liked it not ill,)
I would come to your counsel before your court rich.
For I think it not seemly, as it is so known,
When such challenge is chanted so high in your hall,
That the king, that is: you lord, commands his own hand,
While many so bold sit on benches about,
That under heaven, I hope, are none harder of will,
No better bodies in battle when bad shit goes down,
I am weakest, I know it, and of feeblest wit,
And the loss of my life means the least, it is true.
But for as much as you're my uncle I am only so-praised;
No bounty but your blood I in my body know.
This is such noodling nonsense, beneath you it falls,
And since I asked it of you first, field it to me;
And if I speak not sweetly, let all here assembled
pour blame."
The knights gathered round,
And quickly all chose the same
To deny the king and crown,
And give Gawain the game.


Then commanded the king the knight for to rise;
And gently and knightly he nobly came forth.
Kneeled down before the king and caught that weapon.
Who lightly gave leave of it, then lifted his hand,
And gave him Gods blessing, and gladly him bids
That his heart and his hand should hardy be both.
"Take care, cousin," quoth the king, "that you one cut set,
And if you deal with him duly, directly I think
You will survive that strike he after shall give."
Gawain goes up to this guy with guisarme in hand,
And baldly bides by him with blithe-featured face.
Then talks to Gawain the knight in the green:
"Before we move forwards, before the first pass.
First I beg you, knight, the name that you have,
Tell me that truly, as trust you I may."
"In good faith," quoth the good knight, "Gawain I am named,
That swings this strike, what-so befalls after,
And at this time twelvemonth take from thee another
With what weapon you so wish, and with no-one else
alive."
That knight swears on his knees:
"Sir Gawain, as I live
I am perfectly pleased
This gash you will give.

Gawain 323 - 365, Arthur takes up the challenge

And said, "Horseman, by heaven your request is half-cracked,
And as you stupidly have sought it, certainly its yours.
My guys are giggling, not grieving, at your great words.
Give me now your guisarme, upon Gods name
And I shall brave the boon that you so-boldly ask."
Lightly leaps to him and locks with his hand,
Then fiercely that fellow alights upon foot.
Now has Arthur his axe, and the haft grips,
And sternly swings it about, as strike with it he might.
The stiff man stood before him, utter and huge,
Higher than any in the house by a head and more.
With stern stare there he stood, he stroked his beard,
And with a countenance dry he drawed down his coat,
No more daunted or dismayed by the daring man
Than as if a bumbling barmaid had botched a drink
of wine.
Gawain, that sat by the queen,
To the king he inclined:
"I beseech, with speech-serene
This melee must be mine."

Gawain 301 - 322 The Knight mocks the bravery of the Round Table

If he had stunned them at first, more shocked were they now
All the headmen in hall, the high and the low.
And ruthlessly tracked his recticule eyes,
Bent his bristled brows, blazing green,
Stroked his beard while he waited - to see who would rise.
When none would keep speech with him, out barked a snarl,
And regally, wrathfully, raised him to speak:
"What, is this Arthurs house" asked the horses theign
"That birthed a river of rumors through so many realms?
Where is now your sovereignty and conquests,
Your bragging and greatness and all your great words?
Now is the rule and the renown of the Round Table
Overthrown with one word from a whimsical tongue,
For all dive from danger without a blow done!"
With this he laughs so loud that Arthur glows;
The blood shoots for shame into his face kind
and fair;
He waxes as wrathful as wind,
So did all that there were.
The king, as keen as his kind
Then steps that stark man near,

Gawain 232 - 300, Arthurs reply

(If I keep going on at the same speed I should finish on Christmas Day, which is too pleasing for me not to do it, so get ready for two months of straight translation.)

Herbert Cole (1867-1930) - The Green Knight Entered the Hall

There was looking at length, this lord to behold,
For each man had marveled what it might mean
That chevalier and courser might such colour turn
As grown green as the grass and greener it seemed,
Then green enamel on bright glowing gold.
All studied him standing there, and slowly stepped near
With all the wonder of the world as to what he would do.
For fell sights had they seen, but none such as this;
Of the phantoms and faeries the folk there it deemed.
Therefore answer-wary were many fine lords,
And all stunned at his statement and stock-still stood
In a swooning silence through the rich citadel.
As all were slipped into sleep, so stopped their tongues
in truth -
I deem it not all for doubt,
But some for courtesy;
Not their kings rank to flout
But to hear his decree.


Then Arthur before his high dais that adventure beholds,
And royally him reverenced (for he was never terrified),
And said, "Welcome, wanderer to this place,
The head of this host, Arthurs name I claim.
Step lightly a-down and stay, I thee pray,
and whatever your will is, we shall after learn."
"Nay, so help me" quoth the horseman, "he that on-high-sits,
To waste any while in this realm, it was not my intent.
But that the legend of thee, lord, is lift up so high,
And thy fort and thy fighters fearsome are held,
Stiffest under steel-gear on steeds to ride,
The wisest and the worthiest of of the worlds kind,
Proved for to play with in other pure sports,
And here is kind courtesy as I have constantly heard -
And that has brought me hither at this bitter time.
So may you see by this branch I bear here
That I pass in peace, and no plight seek.
For I had come forth in force, in fighting wise,
I had a hauberk at home and a helm both,
A shield and a sharp spear, shining bright,
And other weapons to wield, a wardrobe full, yet:
But for I would not war, I wrap myself soft.
And if you are so bold as all the bravos tell,
You will grant me goodly the game that I ask
by right."
Arthur matched his stare,
And said, "Sir, courteous knight,
If you crave battle bare,
Here fails you no fight."


"No, I don't feel like fighting, in faith I thee tell.
There are on this bench about but beardless children;
If I were hasped in arms on a high steed,
Here is no man to match me, their muscles so weak.
Truly I crave in this court, a Christmas game,
It is yule-tide and New year, and here are fresh youths.
If any so hard in this house holds himself,
Be so bold in his blood, brain in his head,
That dares stiffly strike a stroke for another,
I shall give him as my gift this guisarme rich,
This axe, that is high enough, to handle as he likes,
And I shall bide the first blow as bare as I sit.
If any motherfucker is fell enough to test me,
Leap lightly to me, and learn this weapon;
I quit-claim it for ever, keep it as his own,
And I shall stand him a stroke, stiff on this spot,
If thou will deem me decent to deal him another
when-claimed;
I shall give him respite
A twelvemonth and a day.
Now quiet, let us see what
Any herein dare to say."

Gawain 151 - 231, The strange appearance of the knight

And all graphed in green this guy and his clothes:
A straight coat full-streched, that streaked down his sides,
A merry mantle above, masked within
With fur furled apart, the facing full clean
Was full-bright blanche-white, and his hood both,
That was lashed from his locks and laid on his shoulders;
His well-haled hose of that same green,
that clung on his calves, and gleaming cleats under,
Of bright gold, upon silk bands barred full rich,
And shoeless under shanks rides the chevalier.
And all his vestiture truly was clean-viridian,
Both the bars of his belt and other blithe stones
That were richly arranged in his array clean,
About himself and his saddle, upon silk works.
It near tires me to tell of the trifles he had
That were embroidered about, with birds and butterflies,
With gay gaudies of green, the gold laid in-midst.
The pendants of his pony, the proud crupper,
Its mouth-bit, and all the metal annealed was, then
The stirrups that he stood in stained of the same,
And his pommel and panel, his knee-roll and skirts,
That ever glimmered and gleamed of all green stones.
The foal he flies in on fine of that ilk,
certain:
A green horse great and thick,
A steed full bold to boil,
In brawny bridle quick -
To the knight he was full loyal.


Well gay was this guy geared in green,
And the hair of his and head of his horse matched:
Fair fanned fur his shoulders enfolds;
As much beard as a bush over his breast hangs,
And his heavenly hair that from his head streams
Was trimmed and teased just under his elbows,
That half of his arms therunder were hidden, in the way
Of a kings cape that closes his features.
The mane of that Main horse much to it like,
Well curled and combed, with knots full many
Folded with gold about the fair green,
One hanging of hair, another of gold.
The tail and his topping twinned of a suite,
And bounded both with a band of bright green,
Dubbed with full-dear stones, as the dock lasted,
Then stopped with a strip, a strange knot below,
There many bells full bright of burning gold rang.
Such a foal upon field, and folk that so rides,
Was not till that time in that citadel seen,
with eyes.
His gaze so fiery-bright,
Said all that saw him so;
It seemed as no man might
Survive beneath his blow.


Yet he had no helm, nor hauberk neither,
Nor breastplate or guardbrace, no gauntlets or greaves,
Not no shaft nor no shield to swing or to smite,
But in his hand he had a holly branch,
That is greatest in green when groves are bare,
And an axe in his other, one huge and uncouth,
A wicked weapon to expound in words, who so might.
The length of a forearm the large head had,
The grain all of green steel and of gold hewn,
The bite burnished bright with a broad edge
as well shaped to shear as sharp razors.
The steel of a stiff staff the stern man by it gripped,
That was wounden with iron to the wands end,
And all begraven with green in gracious works;
A lace lapped about that linked at the head,
And so along the shaft hatched full oft,
With tried tassels thereto attached to it,
By buttons of the bright green burnished full rich.
This Heavy halls himself in and the hall enters,
Driving to the high deck, no danger fears;
Hails he never one, but heads he over-looks.
The first word that he works - "Where is," he said,
"The Governor of this gang? Gladly I would
See that sire in sight and with himself speak
reason."
To knights he cast his eye,
And reeled him up and down;
He stooped so to study
Who was there of most renown.

Gawain 60 - 150, Camelot at Christmas, the green knight arrives

While young Mister Year was so fresh he was sweet,
That day double on the decks were the diners served.
For the king was come with knights into the hall,
The chant of the chapel chimed to an end,
Loud cry was there caused by clerks and the rest,
'Noel' named anew, enobled full ofte.
So then, gifts ran forth richly from that right house,
Said "years-gifts!" on high, gamed gifts for kisses.
Debated busily about those gifts,
Ladies laughed full-loud, though they had lost,
And he that won was not wroth, that may you well know.
All this mirth they made till the meat-time.
When they had washed worthily, they went to their seats
The best bourne over others, as it best seemed.
When Guenevere, full gay, glowed in the midst
Dressed on the bare dias, dubbed all about,
Small sandals besides, a selure her over,
Of tried Tolouse, and the tapestries of Tars,
That were embroidered and beset with the best gems,
That might be proved of price with pennies to buy
in day;
The comliest to descry
She gleamed with eyes grey,
A sweeter, that ever he sees,
So must no man say.


But Arthur would not eat till all were served,
He was so jolly of his joys, and somewhat childish:
He likes his life light, he loves the least
Either to long lie or to long sit,
So busied him with his young blood and his brain wild.
And also another manner moved him, one
That he thought noble to name; he would not eat
Upon such a dear day 'ere him devised were
Of some adventurous thing an uncouth tale,
Or some main marvel, that he might think True,
Of aldermen, or arms, or other adventures,
Or that some sire him bequested, or some likely knights
To join with him in jousting, in jeopardy to lay,
Lightly, life for life, each upon other,
As fortune would favor the fairer to have.
This was the kings countenance when he in court was,
At each fair and feast among his free many
in hall.
Therefore of face so fierce,
He stands stiff in stall,
Full sapped in that new year,
Much mirth he has with all.


Thus there stands in stall the stiff king himself,
Talking before the high table of trifles full-piled.
There good Gawain was gathered, Guenevere beside,
And Agravain of the Hard Hand on that other side sits,
Both the kings sister-sons and full super-knights;
Bishop Bawdewyn above biggens the table,
And Ywain, Uriens son, eats there beside him.
They were dressed on the dais and worthily served.
And with them many sweet squires at the sideboards.
Then the first course came with cracking of trumpets,
With many banner full bright that therby hanged;
Now Nakryn noise with the noble pipes,
Wild warbles and winds wake the echoes,
That many heart full-high-held at their tunes.
Platters paraded in of the dear meats,
Finest of the fresh, and on so many dishes
That piled, that to find a place the people bent
For to set the servers, yet no spaces held
on cloth.
Each ladled as he loved himself
They laughed without lothe;
Every two had dishes twelve,
Good beer and bright wine both.


Now will I of their service say you no more,
For those wise will work out that no want there was.
Another noise full-new announced and blew,
That the lord might have leave lastly to feast.
But scarce was the noise not a while ceased,
And the first course in court kindly served,
There hales in at the hall door one awesome motherfucker,
So big, they broke the mold, his measure high;
From his sight to his seat so square and so thick,
And his loins and limbs so long and so great,
Half-Eoten in earth I think that he was,
But more, I must admit him to be,
Maybe the handsomest and hottest to sit on a horse.
For of back and of breast was his body built-up,
Yet his womb and his waist were worthily small,
And all his features fine-graven in form that he had
full clean.
For wonder of his hue men had,
Set in his semblance serene;
He fierce as a freak stood forth,
And over-all brightest green.