the dirty dens of evil spirits.
I am very much older than this universe
or this middle-world could ever be.
I was yesterday born, a child begotten
to the glory of man, from my mother’s womb.
Fairer I am than ornaments of gold,
although they be covered with delicate work.
I am filthier too than this foul wood
or this seaweed that lies cast up here.
I am wider than the world any and everywhere50
and extend farther than this green meadow.
A hand can seize me and three fingers
can easily embrace me all round about.
I am harder and colder than the hard frost;
the grim rime when it comes on the ground.
[I am] hotter than Vulcan’s up-ascending
fire and brightly shining flame.
I am on the palate of men sweeter
than the honeycomb when filled with honey.
Just so am I bitterer than wormwood is60
that darkly stands here in the forest.
Feed I can even more mightily
and eat just as much as an old giant,
and I always can live a happy life
though I see no food my whole life long.
I can fly more boldly than the pernex[1] can
or eagle or hawk ever could.
There is no Zephyrus, that rapid wind,
that can anywhere so boldly move.
The snail is swifter than I, the earthworm faster,70
the swamp frog more active in movement
and the offspring of dung is quicker in stirring,
which we call “beetle,” when we give it a name.
I am heavier far than the gray stone
- ↑ An imaginary bird for Aldhelm’s pernix aquilis (swift eagle). Chaucer, House of Fame, iii, 302, made partridges’ wings out of Virgil’s pernicibus alis.
