Beowulf: A New Translation

by Beowulf Poet

Anyone who fucks with the Geats? Bro, they have to fuck with me.

If warfare revokes my pass to Earth’s kingdom, just send this mail-shirt made by Weland— willed to me by my grandfather Hrethel—to Hygelac. Horrors happen, I’m grown, I know it. Bro, Fate can fuck you up.”

Meanwhile, Beowulf gave zero shits.