GRENDEL'S HEIRS
However, it befell me that I with my sword slew
Nine nicors--sea-monsters.
--Beowulf, in Beowulf (lines 574-575a)
"Smell the bitter, briny tang,"
The elders angled, hoarse with rage,
Wrapped in hair and hide. "Fear
Caves of sorrow, waves of hate.
Know below fell creatures wait."
Naked Ottar smiling swam
Into the sea, long-knife in hand.
Across the wind, the nicors neighed,
Saltbound night-mares stabled
Beneath these waves. Through the roof
Of Ottar's mouth, the blunt, blind,
Ugly truths his not ignoble
Life tore out. Freshened now,
Rife they sang. "Smell the bitter,
Briny tang and hallow here
This mere-hero, with gilded bronze,
With horn and drum. Scorn not
Ottar's gift, this fierce price,
That we may pass our foes unafraid."
Twice, in their grotto, the nicors neighed.
--Matt Duckworth
P.S. I'd originally written a version of this poem in 1995 or so back when I was deep in graduate studies of heroism and wondering if I shouldn't have been trading Lord Byron back for Beowulf. I've revised the piece slightly just now.
