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A powerful monster, living down In the darkness, growled in pain, impatient
As day after day the music rang Loud in that hall, the harp's rejoicing
So Hrothgar's men lived happy in his hall Till the monster stirred, that demon, that fiend Grendel
When darkness had dropped, Grendel Went up to Herot, wondering what the warriors Would do in that hall when their drinking was done.
He slipped through the door and there in the silence Snatched up thirty men, smashed them Unknowingly in their beds and ran out with their bodies
So Herot stood empty, and stayed deserted for years Twelve winters of grief for Hrothgar, king Of the Danes, sorrow heaped at his door By hell-forged hands
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