The Hildebrandslied (Wood)/Denkmäler version

For other English-language translations of this work, see The Lay of Hildebrand.

A much later version of the same material is found in Dutch and German. Though based on the same tradition, it has no connection with the earlier story. In the later version the two warriors have degenerated into braggart knights whose encounter on the highway is like the quarreling of street brawlers.

The following translation is made from the late Middle High German version printed in Müllenhoff und Scherer's Denkmäler, II, 26 ff. The poem consists of riming couplets combined into stanzas of four lines. Each line is divided into two half-lines containing three (or occasionally four) accented syllables. The rhythm is often limping and the rimes not always exact. E.g., the first two lines of the fourth stanza are:

'Das ensoltu nicht tun,' sprach sich von Bern her Dietrich,
'Wan der jung her Alebrani ist mir von herzen lieb.'

"I will go from the land ariding," said Master Hildebrand,
"On the way that leads straight onward to Bern, the pleasant land.
The place I know no longer, and many a day has past,
The years are two and thirty since I saw Lady Utè last."

"Wilt thou go from the land ariding," spake up Duke Abelung,
"Who will meet thee on the greensward? A valiant thane and young.
Who will meet thee on the marches? Thy son Sir Alebrand.
Though thou ride with eleven others, he will tilt with thee, spear in band."

"If at me the wanton upstart should ever dare to ride,
I'll shatter his shield of linden, and humble his haughty pride.
I'll hew in twain his byrnie with broadsword and with spear,
So that he will run to his mother, and rue it for a year."

"Now that shalt thou do never," said Dietrich, Lord of Bern.
"To Alebrand, the younker, my heart in love doth turn.
Thou shalt bespeak him softly, thy lord's behest now hear,
That he may grant thee passage if he hold my favor dear."

As he rode to the Garden of Roses, where Dietrich's sway doth hold,
There he found great strife and stour from a warrior strong and bold:
A warrior young and sturdy rode up with spear in hand:
"Now tell me, thou old graybeard, what seekest thou in this land?

Thy harness is bright and shining, as wert thou of royal kind.
Thou thinkest me, a younker, with glaring eyes to blind.
At home shouldst thou abide now and of thyself shouldst take
Good care by the glowing ingle." The gray-beard laugh'd and spake:

"Should I abide at home now and by the fireside cling?
My heart for all these many years was set on wandering,
On wandering and warfare until my dying day.
In doing this, my stripling, my beard is growing gray."

"I will pluck thy beard so hoary, that know to thy disgrace,
Until the blood rose-color'd shall trickle down thy face.
Thy buckler and thy harness must thou give up to me.
Besides thou art my captive if thou alive wouldst be."

"My buckler and my harness have often saved my life.
I trust the Lord of heaven I shall win to-day in strife."
Thereupon they ceast from speaking, each drew his own keen brand;
And what both warriors long'd for was ready at their hand.

I know not how the stripling the blows on the gray-beard laid
So that the hoary Hildebrand for once was sore afraid.
He nimbly sprang far backward, full seven yards, I trow.
"How now, my little stripling, that was a woman's blow."

"If I learn'd that from women, 'twere shame upon my hand;
For I have many knights and squires within my father's land,
And I have many knights and counts all at my father's court,
And what I have not learn'd as yet shall be my future sport."

He grab'd him by the middle, where he was lank and lean,
And swinging hurl'd him backward far out upon the green.
"Now tell me, little stripling, for now will I thee shrive,
If so thou beest a Wolfing, thou mayest remain alive.

Who rubs against old kettles is smircht, as I am told,
As it befalls thee, younker, from me a warrior old.
Thy shrift must now be given upon the heath so green,
I tell thee now in earnest, thou younker bold and keen."

"Of wolves thou just now spakest that on the wold do roam.
I am a thane full noble, and Greece was once my home.
My mother is Lady Utè, a duchess proud and grand,
And my much beloved father is the aged Hildebrand."

"If thy mother is Lady Utè, a duchess proud and grand,
Then I am thy dear father, the aged Hildebrand."
He open'd his golden helmet and kist his lips so red.
"Now God be thankt in heaven that neither of us is dead."

"Ah father, dearest father, the wounds I gave to thee,
I would they three times over had fallen upon me."
"Now say no more, I pray thee, my sorrows now are done,
Since God has brought together the father and his son."

It lasted from the noonday until the vespertide,
The while the younker Alebrand into the town did ride.
What wore he on his helmet? A glittering wreath of gold.
Whom kept he ever by his side? His father dear and old.

He led him to his mother's house, gave him the chosen seat.
This seem'd to the careful mother an honor all unmeet.
"Ah son, my well beloved, is this an honor fit
That a captive man should ever at the head of the table sit?"

"Now hold your peace, dear mother, and let me set you right:
He met me 'mong the heather, and might have slain me quite.
And hear ye, dearest mother, no captive shall he be.
It is Hildebrand the aged, and he is dear to me.

Come, mother, dearest mother, and pay him honor fine."
Straightway she rose and fill'd his cup with mellow-hearted wine.
What glitter'd on his finger? A ring of gold she knew.
This dropt he in the goblet of his wife so dear and true.