Elene I

When there had passed in the circuit of years two hundred
and three winters of this world, plus thirty more,
accounted by numbers, in the reckoning of time,
since the Sovereign God was born, the King of Glory,
in middle-earth in mannish shape, the Light Sooth-Fast.
Then was the sixth year of Emperor Constantine’s reign,
battle-first, who had been elevated into the rule of the Romans
to be their leader. That man-valiant shield-protector was mercy-fast
to his earls and thus the reign of that noble increased beneath the heavens.
He was the rightful king, the war-guard of his men. God strengthened
him with great works and power, so that he become a comfort
to many men throughout middle-earth and a scourge to nations
when he brandished a blade against his enemies. (1-18a)

To him was proclaimed war, the shout of warriors: the warlike
Franks and Hugas had come and gathered an army of Hunnish men
and the Hrethgoths. These men were stout, ready for battle:
their spears were glittering, wound with linked slaughter.
With words and shield-boards, the martial signal was raised.
Then those hardy men were apparently united and all gathered
in concord into a company of nations. The wolf in the wold chanted
his war-song, not concealing the signs of slaughter. The wet-winged
eagle heaved up his own song in the track of the hateful. (18b-30a)

Quickly the greatest of war-hosts hastened to the city of giants,
with an army to battle, such as the king of the neighboring Huns
could have commanded into combat anywhere before the greatest
army of city-fighters. His infantry was augmented by bands of horsemen
and it had encamped on the foreign shore of the Danube, beyond
the surging water, stark-hearted and spear-playing. The army’s tumult
was meant to oppress the realm of the Romans, despoiling them with harriers.
There the Huns’ arrival became known to the city-dwellers. (30b-42a)

Then the Caesar ordered with great haste, under the arrows’ flurry,
his warriors be summoned unto battle beneath the heavens
against the fearsome war-players, be led out for an attack.
Immediately the Romans were made ready, men victory-valiant,
with weapons to warfare, although they had fewer to go to battle
than the Hunnish king. They rode about their renowned leader—
their shields dinned, the camp-wood resounded—
The king marched forth in a horde, an army to battle.
The winging raven sang, sable and slaughter-fell.
The army was on the march.
The horn-bearers leapt, the heralds cried out,
the horses trod the earth. The host drew together,
quick to the quarrel. (42b-56a)

The emperor was afraid, affrighted by terror, after
he surveyed the strangers, the army of Huns and Hrethgoths
that gathered their army at the river’s shore, a force uncountable
on the border of the Rome-dwellers’ realm. Heart-sorrow weighed
upon the Roman ruler—for the kingdom he hoped not
for army-lacking—he had too few troops,
shoulder-companions to stand against the overwhelming force,
bold in battle. The army camped, nobles about the prince,
near the water course, about the length of a night
after they had first seen their enemies’ movements. (56b-68)

Then it was revealed unto Caesar himself in his sleep,
where he slumbered in company, victor-strong, seeing
a dreamy portent. It seemed to him beautiful in the shape of man,
a white and hue-bright warrior, a someone was shown to him—
more fair than he had seen early or late under the heaven.
He started up from sleep, covering himself with his boar-crest.
The messenger quickly, the brilliant herald of glory,
spoke and named him by his name—the helm of night was thrown back:
“Constantine, the King of Angels has ordered that, Wielder of Fates,
offers you a pledge, the Lord of Multitudes.
Do not be afraid though the terror of strangers threatens you,
the cruelty of battle. Look to the heavens, to the Ward of Glory,
there you will find a bolster, the symbol of victory.” (69-85a)

Constantine was instantly ready —
through that holy command, his heart-box was opened
and he looked up, just as that messenger declared,
the faithful peace-weaver. He saw there bright with ornaments,
the beautiful tree of glory across the roof of the heavens,
adorned with gold, gems were shining;
The pale wood was inscribed with book-staves,
bright and light: “WITH THIS SIGN YOU
WILL OVERCOME THIS TERRIBLE PERIL,
AND WITHSTAND THE HATEFUL HORDE.”
Then the light departed, ventured up, the angel with it,
into the crowd of the clean. The Emperor was happier
for this vision and more sorrowless, the prince of warriors,
in his mind for that fair sight. (85b-98)