And blood flowed, a crimson stream, staining the pail of the milker.
As fierce as the mother-bear, struck by the spear of the hunter,
Rushed I indoors, and took up a loaf, which I sundered
By the stroke of the axe, and black flew the bark-fragments round me.
One morsel I gave to my wife, saying: “Take it; ’tis all that is left us;
Eat, and give suck to the infant.” She took the dry morsel;
She turned it about in her hand, looked at it, then pressing
The babe to her bosom, she swooning, fell back on her pillow.
I buckled the skates on my feet, and sped in all haste to the neighbor
Who dwelt nearest to me, and prayed for some help in my sorrow