Category Archives: War and Peace

Stanza 19: War Horse

ᛖ byþ for eorlum æþelinga wyn.
hors hofum wlanc. ðær him hæleþ ymb.
welege on wicgum wrixlaþ spræce.
⁊ biþ unstyllum æfre frofur ᛬᛫

It is for warriors… More

Stanza 11: Ice

ᛁ byþ ofer ceald ungemetum slidor
glisnaþ glæs hluttur gimmum gelicust.
flor forste geworuht fæger ansyne ᛬᛫

It is overly cold, immeasurably slippery… More

Translating Is

The Is stanza says there is nothing more cold than ice. it is oferceald. There is nothing more slippery than ice: slidor ungemetum. Met means measurement, it is slippery beyond measure.… More

Translating Eh

There’s lots of words for horse in Old English, hors, for one. But there’s wicg, hengest, friþhengest, onrid, radhors, mearh, sceam, steda, stott, blanca, gelew, all… More

How to Change the World

How to change the world? Invent something, something important. Look at the stirrup: a metal rounded triangle you can attach to a saddle as a place to put your feet. Very simple, basic,… More

E is for ⁊

⁊ is shorthand for the word et which means “and” in Latin. It shows up in place of “and” seven times in the only copy we have of the Rune Poem. The placements… More

X≠Y≠Z: Y

Life is about to change for Y. The herd has been dwindling, with Z already exiled in wretchedness. X is on edge, chin elevated, ears pinned back, and has decided that Y’s days in… More

Hildegicel

H: At the start of an Old English word, H is almost silent, an H on its way out. Hha. A burst of breath in cold air, watch it freeze.

I: Short vowel. Hint and hinge and hinder.

L: Hill.

D: Duh.… More

War and Peace

During the time of the Rune Poem, a properly kitted warrior owned a decent war horse to take to battle. These were bigger horses than the usual so they could handle a person wearing heavy… More

How to Stab Somebody with an Icicle

You want to stab somebody with an icicle. Good. It’s best when the murder weapon disappears. Here’s the plan:

Acquisition of Murder Weapon
If you are harvesting from … More

Friþ

… More

I is for Iceland Spar

It’s one thing to get from place to place by boat if you can keep an eye on the coastline the entire time. But if you want to cross the open sea without GPS, you will need some sort of… More

How to Listen to a Horse

Publius Cornelius Tacitus
Ingaevones Territory
Year 98 of the New Calendar

Gnaeus Julius Agricola
Governor, Britannia, ret.

Dearest Father in Law,

How are you, I am fine. Julia sends… More

Alphybettyformed Verbage
A is always for apple. B is for a lot of stuff. Ball, bear, boat, banana, so many B things. Very early we learn from the one to the infinite is but a step.

The Old English Rune Poem is an alphabet book. It looks like an alphabet book, but like a modern alphabet book there’s infinitely more to it, if you look close. Every stanza of the poem describes a letter, a rune. In Old English the word rune means secret. The secret is these letters weren’t just for writing. In secret, when nobody was looking, people could carve the runes into bits of wood and cast lots with them. Find out their fates. Answer a few questions. Solve some problems. They could do this because each stanza of the Rune Poem, gives a little bit of wisdom, a little picture of life, sometimes a warning. Always in the form of a riddle. The Rune Poem is a collection of riddles that could divine the future.

This poem has another secret hidden in its folds that fascinates me. There’s a riddle in this collection of alphabet riddles, deep in its structure. Take the letters, cut them apart from each other, carve them into bits of wood if that helps you, and line them up in a row. Now fold your line in half so number 1 is next to 29, 2 next to 28, etc. Make the pairs and read them together. They match each other. They sing duets about light, renewal, a song of home and exile. A song of the water cycle. A beautiful weapon is one thing but a thorn can really hurt you. Some things are dependable. Everything is temporary. The runes sing these things to themselves in the mirror, duet by duet, until you get to the clue, the key to the secret, number 15 in the middle -- Helix, standing alone all twisted, singing we should twine this poem aound itself and look at it again.

-- Vern Tonkin

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