Caedmon's Hymn

The oldest poem in the English language is a song of creation, known as Caedmon's Hymn. The story goes that whenever Caedmon, a worldy established man and maybe a shepherd, was called upon to sing amongst his fellow men at drinking and feast gatherings, occasions of joy, he was overcome with shame and embarrassment. He knew no words or stories and felt ashamed as this was an essential part of belonging to his people and of sharing that joy. One night after leaving his fellow people in silence once again he retired and fell asleep. He was visited by an Angel who asked:

"Caedmon, sing me something?" and when he replied "I cannot and that is why I left, I do not know how to sing" the Angel replied "Nevertheless you must".

Caedmon asked what he should sing about and the Angel said: "sing to me of the first creation". And Caedmon sang in words that he had never heard:

Nu we sculon herigean, heofonrices weard,
meotodes meahte, ond his modgeþanc,
weorc wuldorfæder, swa he wundra gehwæs,
ece drihten, or onstealde.
He ærest sceop eorðan bearnum
heofon to hrofe, halig scyppend;
þa middangeard moncynnes weard,
ece drihten, æfter teode
firum foldan, frea ælmihtig.

The translation is unimportant to me. The writing is from Bede, a seventh century English monk from Whitby who may have borrowed at least elements of the story from extant folklore and embellished it with Caedmon's story, one of piety and godliness. I just love way it sounds, that is what matters to me. It is beautiful. Whether these words are of Caedmon, Bede, or God spoken through a man is less important than the narrative connection. This is part of who I am, I can feel it, believe it. I am not alone when I hear speak these words, I can understand.

I will try to find a way of posting what this sounds like when I read it aloud, until then here is a link, and many thanks to http://kayray.org/ for the LibriVox recording. She recites it beautifully.

Caedmon's Hymn

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