The Fresh Prince of Geatland

Or, Beowulf: A Post-Postmodern Translation

Hwæt! This is a story all about how
My life got flipped, turned upside down
And I’d like to take a minute, just sit right there
I’ll tell you how I became a hero in a demon’s lair

In south Scandinavia, born and raised
Fighting giants was how I spent most of my days
Hustlin’, bustlin’, relaxin’ all cool
Challenging the neighbors to a race in the pool

When a demon called Grendel who was up to no good
Started making trouble in the mead hall Heorot
The Danes had a fight and Hrothgar got scared
He said, “Come and save our brethren, if you dare!”

I called up my boys, the 14 strongest of the Geats
Packed up our armor and set out on the seas
Said bye to King Hygelac, sailed straight to Denmark
Washed up on the shore to go meet up with Hrothgar

A welcome feast, yo this is bad!
Drinking mead poured by a queen into my glass
Is this what the people of Heorot living like?
Hmm… This might be all right!

We partied and drank and cheered till dusk
The king went off to bed and bid us good luck
My men grabbed their swords, ready to take their final stand
But I thought, “Nah, forget it; I’ll fight him hand to hand!”

Grendel came into the house around 3 or 4
And I yelled to the demon, “Yo holmes, over here!”
I ripped off his arm, I had finally slain
The monster and become the greatest hero of the Danes!