WULF

​nicholas roberts

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Custom was to exchange gifts
When a loved one had fallen
Into the wrong hands.
So our fathers did,
And so we did when Wulf was brought away.

I received: a comb, two shawls,
A rosary and six cups
In compensation for my loss.

Wulf, we presume, was rash with the enemy,
And spat in their faces
As he often spat at the dogs
Who came for the rotten chops
After large feasts in the winter.

We will not receive news of his execution
As it is not their custom.
They prefer to let
The people of the captured guess the fate.
Boiled, or flayed, or thrown
Out to sea in a rudderless raft.

If another of my sons is taken
I can receive a larger compensation:
Five combs, seven shawls, (one
For each cold month) ten cups, and
A pearl rosary.

If god had turned me
To a purpose, I might fit it.
Is it more
To shut up?

They will not allow his body to rest,
But will set it with torments
From the fish
That gnaw his face,
And the seals that toss him
Back to the icy sand.
​
Then I will receive a gold cup