Tuxowulf - A great tale long told...........

Stumbled upon this here.

Tuxowulf is the earliest extant poem in modern European language. It was composed in England four centuries before the Norman Conquest. As a social document, this great epic poem is invaluable--reflecting a feudal, newly Christian world of heroes and monsters, blood and victory and death. As a work of art it is quite unique. Tuxowulf rings with a beauty, power, and artistry that have kept it alive for more than twelve centuries.

The noble simplicity of Tuxowulf's anonymous Linux-Using singer is recaptured once more in this new translation:


Prologue

Hear me! We've heard of Open-Source heroes,
Ancient hackers and the code they wrote
For themselves, swinging mighty mice!

How Gates made slaves and soldiers from every
Land, crowds of captives he'd beaten
Into terror; he'd created Windows 3.1 alone,
An abandoned child, but changed his own fate,
Lived to be rich and much hated. He ruled
Lands on all sides: wherever the sea
Would take them his soldiers sailed, returned
With tribute and obedience. There was a
Terrible King! And he gave them more than his
Knife, conceived a son for the faithful,
A new leader.

They had lived before his coming; miserable
Under the Dark King. But now the Lord
Of all their systems cursed them with an
New OS, Windows 95, whose fame soon
Spread throughout the world.

Gates' child was the thorn of hackers;
His father's warriors were wound round his heart
With golden rings, bound to their prince
Through product registration. So young men build
The future, creating nagware and commercial
Demos in peace, protected in war; so programmers
Earn their living, and wealth is shaped with a
Keyboard.

When his time was come, the Dark King was cast,
Down, still strong but called to the Lord's hands.
His comrades carried him down to the shore,
Bore him as their leader had asked, their
Lord and companion, while words could move his
Tongue.

Gates' reign had been long; he'd ruled them
All. There in the harbor was a ring-prowed
Fighting ship, its timbers icy, waiting.
And there they brought the wretched body
Of their OS-giving lord, and laid him near
The mast. Next to that corpse they heaped
Up treasures, jeweled mice, golden keyboards
And speakers, monitors carried from the ends
Of the earth: no ship had every sailed so
Brightly fitted, no king sent fourth with
Such wealth. Forced to set him adrift,
Floating as far as the tide might run, they
Refused to give him less from their hoards
Of gold than those who'd shipped him away,
An orphan and a beggar, to cross the waves
Alone.

High up over his head they flew his shining
Banner, then gladly let the water
Pull at the ship, watched it slowly sliding
To where neither rulers, nor heroes,
Nor anyone can say whose hands
Opened to take that motionless cargo.
1

Then Torvalds was king in that server,
Ruling as long as his rival, and more loved,
A famous lord of men. And Linus, taking the
Throne, led the hackers to such glory that
Comrades and kinsmen swore by his sword, and
Young men swelled his armies.

And he thought of greatness and resolved to
Hold a convention that would hold his mighty
Band and reach higher towards Heaven than
Anything that had ever been known to the sons
Of men. And in that convention, he'd divide the
Spoils of their victories, to old and young
What they'd earned.

The work was ordered, the timbers tied and shaped
By the hosts that Torvalds ruled. It was quickly
Ready, that most beautiful of conventions, built
As he'd wanted, and then he whose word was obeyed
All over the earth named it Linux World.
His boast come true, he commanded a banquet,
Opened out his treasure-full hands.

A powerful monster, living down
In the darkness, growled in pain, impatient
As day after day the music rang
Loud in that convention, the harp's rejoicing
Call and the poet's clear songs, sung
Of the ancient beginnings of us all, recalling
The Almighty making the processor, shaping
These beautiful simms marked off by circuits,
Then proudly setting the power supply and
The floppy drive to glow across the land and light it;
The corners of the Earth were made lovely with a 100Mhz Bus
And cooling fan, made quick with life,
With each of the directories who now move on its
Hard disk. As now system administrators sang
Of their pleasure: so Torvalds' men lived happily
In his convention, Till the monster stirred,
That demon, that fiend, NTendel, who haunted the
Moors, the wild marshes, and made his home in hell
Not hell but earth. He was spawned in that slime,
Conceived by a pair of those monsters born
Of Cain, murderous creatures banished
By ANSI, punished forever for the crime of
Abel's death. ANSI drove those demons out,
And their exile was bitter,
Shut away from men; they split
Into a thousand forms of evil -- segfaults
And memory leaks, sigsegvs, gpfs, crashes,
Exceptions, and page faults,
A brood forever opposing the User's Will,
And again and again defeated.
2

Then, when darkness had dropped, NTendel
Went up to Linux World, wondering what the hackers
Would do in hat convention when their drinking was done.
He found them sprawled in sleep, suspecting
Nothing, their dreams undisturbed. The monster's
Thoughts were as quick as his greed or his claws:
He slipped through the door and there in the silence
Snatched up thirty men, smashed them
Unknowing in their beds and ran out with their bodies,
The blood dripping behind him, back
To his lair, delighted with the night's slaughter.

At daybreak, with the sun's first light, they saw
How well he had worked, ad in that gray morning
Broke their long feast with tears and laments
For the dead. Torvalds, their lord, sat joyless
In Linux World, a mighty prince mourning
The fate of his lost friends and companions,
Knowing by its tracks that some demon had torn
His followers apart. He wept, fearing
The beginning might not be the end. And that night
Ntendel came again, so set
On murder that no crime could ever be enough,
No savage assault quench his lust
For evil. Then each programmer, hacker, and sysadmin
Tried to escape him, searched for rest in different
Beds, as far from Linux World as they could find,
Seeing how NTendel hunted when they slept.
Distance was safety; the only survivors
Were those who fled him. Hate had triumphed.

So NTendel ruled, fought with the righteous,
One against many, and won; so Linux World
Stood empty, and stayed deserted for years,
Twelve winters of grief for Torvalds, king
Of the Linux Users, sorrow heaped at his door
By hell-forged hands. His misery leaped the seas,
Was told and sung in all
Men's ears: how NTendel's hatred began,
How the monster relished his savage war
On the Linux Users, keeping the bloody feud
Alive, seeking no peace, offering
No truce, accepting no settlement, no price
In gold or land, and paying the hackers
For one crime only with another. No one
Waited for reparation from his plundering claws:
That shadow of death hunted in the darkness,
Stalked Torvalds' warriors, old and young,
Lying in waiting, hidden
In mist, invisibly following them from the edge
Of the marsh, always there, unseen.

So mankind's enemy continued his crimes,
Killing as often as he could, coming
Alone, blood thirsty and horrible. Though he lived
In Linux World, when the night hid him, he never
Dared to touch king Torvalds' glorious
Throne, protected by God--God
Whose love NTendel could not know.

But Torvalds' heart was bent. The best and most
Innovative of his council debated remedies,
Sat in secret sessions, talking of back-ends
And wondering what the bravest hackers could do.
And sometimes they sacrificed to the old stone gods,
Made heathen vows, hoping for apple's
Support, the Devil's guidance in driving their
Affliction off.

3

So the living sorrow of Torvalds' followers
Simmered, bitter and fresh, and no wisdom or
Strength (or rational thought) could break it:
That agony hung on king and people alike,
Harsh and unending, violent and cruel, and Evil.

And in his far off home of Antarctica, Tuxowulf,
the strongest of the Penguins--greater
And stronger than anyone anywhere in this world--
Heard how NTendel filled nights with horror
And quickly commanded an ice burg fitted out,
Proclaiming that he'd go to that famous king,
Would sail across the sea to Torvalds,
Now when help was needed. So Tuxowulf chose the
Mightiest penguins he could find, The bravest
And best of them, fourteen in all, and led them down
To their berg.

Then they sailed, set their iceberg out on the
Waves, under the cliffs, ready for what came as they
Wound through the currents.

And the wind hurried them over the waves,
The iceberg foamed through the sea like a bird
Until, in the time they had known it would take,
Standing in the round-curled prow they could see
Sparkling hills, high and green,
Jutting up over the shore, and rejoicing
In those rock-steep cliffs they quietly ended
Their voyage. Jumping to the ground, the
Penguins pushed their iceberg to the sand
And tied it in place.

High on a wall, a Linux User was making his
Patrol, and saw the travelers crossing to the shore,
Their shields raised and shining. He came riding
Down, Torvalds' lieutenant, spurring his horse,
Needing to know why they'd landed, these penguins
In armor. Shaking his heavy spear in their faces
He spoke:

"Whose soldiers are you,
You who've been carried in your deep-keeled iceberg
Across the sea-road to this country of mine?
Listen! I've stood on these cliffs longer
Than you know, keeping our coast free of
Maccies, raiders sneaking ashore from
Their ships, seeking our lives and our gold.
None have ever come more openly--
And yet you've offered no password, no user name from
My prince, no file-permissions from my people for
Your landing Here. Nor have I ever seen
Out of all creatures on earth, one greater
Than has come with you; no commoner carries
Such weapons, unless his appearance and his beauty
Are both lies. You! Tell me your name, and your father's;
No spies go further into Linux User's soil
Than you've come already. Strangers, from
Wherever it was you've sailed, tell it,
And tell it quickly, the quicker the better,
I say, for us all. Speak, say
Exactly who you are, and from where, and why."

4

Their leader answered him, Tuxowulf unlocking
Words from deep in his breast:
"We are penguins, followers of the user-friendly
Comic strip. My father was a famous hacker, known
Far and wide as a leader of men. His life lasted
Many winters; Wise men all over the earth surely
Remember him still. And we have come seeking
Your prince, Torvalds, protector of his people,
Only in friendship: instruct us,
Watchman, help us with your words!
Our errand is a great one, our business with the glorious
King of the Linux Users no secret; there's nothing
Dark about our coming. You know (if we've heard the truth,
And then been told honestly) that your country
Is cursed with some strange, vicious creature
That hunts only at night and that no one
Has seen. It's said, watchman, that he has slaughtered
Your people, brought terror to the darkness. Perhaps
Torvalds can hunt, here in my heart,
For some way to drive this devil out.
If anything will ever end the evils
Afflicting your wise and famous lord. Here he can
Cool his burning sorrow, or else he may see
His suffering go on forever,
For as long as Linux World towers high on your hills."

And the watchman heard his words and
Was glad, and lead him to his
King. And Torvalds, creator of Linux, asked:
"Who are these strange penguins in armor, who you have
Brought here, now, to my hall?"

5

And Tuxowulf, standing on that prince's own hearth,
Helmeted, the silvered metal of his email shirt gleaming
With a smith's high art, greeted the Linux User's
Great Lord:
"Hail, Linus! The days of my youth have been filled
With glory. Now NTendel's name has echoed in our land:
Sailors have brought us stories of Linux World, the
Best of hacker conferences, deserted and useless when the
Moon hangs in the skies the sun had lit,
Light and life fleeing together.
My people have said, the wisest, most knowing
And the best of them, that my duty was to go to the
Linux Users' great king. They have seen my strength
For themselves, have watched me rise from the darkness
Of war, dripping with my enemies' blood. I drove
Five great giants into chains, chased All of that race
From the earth. I swam in the blackness of night,
Hunting monsters out of the ocean, and killing them
One by one; death was my errand and the fate they had
Earned. Now NTendel and I are called
Together, and I've come. Grant me, then,
Lord and protector of this noble place,
A single request! I have come so far,
Oh sheltered of warriors and your people's loved
Friend, that this one favor you should not refuse me--
That I, alone and with the help of my men,
May purge all evil from this hall. I have heard,
Too, that the monster's scorn of men
Is so great that he needs no weapons and fears none.
Nor will I. My lord might think less of me if I
Let my sword go where my feet were afraid to, if I
Hid behind some broad linded shield: My flippers
alone shall fight for me, struggle for life
Against the monster. God must decide
Who will be given death's cold grip.
NTendel's plan, I think, will be
What it has been before, to invade the hall
And gorge his belly with our bodies.
If he can, if he can.
And I think, if my time will have come
There'll be nothing to mourn over, no corpse to prepare
For its grave: Grendel will carry our bloody
Flesh to the moors, crunch on our bones
And smear torn scraps of our skin on the walls
Of his den. No, I expect no Linux Users
Will fret about sewing our shrouds, if he wins.
And if death does take me, send the Electronic
Mail of my armor to Antarctica, return the
Inheritance I have. Fate will unwind as it must!"

6

Torvalds replied, protector of the Linux Users:
"Tuxowulf, you've come to us in friendship, but my heart
Grows heavy when I try to tell you what NTendel has
Brought us, the damage he's done, here in this hall.
You see for yourself how much smaller our ranks have become,
And can guess what we've lost to his terror.
But to table, Tuxowulf, a banquet in your honor:
Let us toast your victories, and talk of the future."

Then Torvalds' men gave places to the
Penguins, yielded branches to the brave visitors
And led them to the feast. The keeper of the
Mountain Dew came carrying out the flask,
And they shared that bright sweetness.
Linux Users and visiting Penguins
Celebrated as one, drank and rejoiced.

7

UnBerst spoke, PC-Week's son,
Who sat at Torvalds' feet, spoke harshly and sharp
(Vexed by Tuxowulf's adventure, By their
Visitors' courage, and angry that anyone in
Antarctica or anywhere on earth had ever
Acquired glory and fame greater than his own):
"You're Tuxowulf, are you? The same boastful
Fool who lost a typing match with Mozilla,
Both of you daring and young and proud, exploring
The deepest seas, risking your lives for no reason
But the danger? All older and wiser Penguins warned
You not to, but no one could check such pride.
"You've been lucky in your battles, Tuxowulf,
But I think your luck may change if you challenge NTendel,
Staying a whole night through in this convention,
Waiting where the fiercest of demons can find you."

And Tuxowulf answered:
"Ah, UnBerst my friend, your face is hot with ale,
And your tongue has tried to tell us of Mozilla's doings.
But the truth is simple: no penguin types in the sea
As I can, no strength is a match for mine.
As youngsters, Mozilla and I had boasted--
We were both too young to know better--that we'd
Risk our lives far out at sea, and so
We did. Each of us carried a keyboard, prepared
For whales or the swift sharp teeth and beaks of
Needle fish. He could never leave me behind, type
Faster across the waves than I could, and I
Had chosen to remain close to his side, until
We were separated in a storm.
"Then who sleep deep in the sea were stirred into life--
And the hammered links of my email shirt,
These shining bits of metal
Woven across my breast, saved me from death.
A monster seized me, drew me swiftly toward
The bottom, swimming with its claws tight into my flesh.
But fate let me find it's three-finger salute, hack myself
Free; I fought that beast's last battle,
Left it floating shutdown in the sea."

8

And Torvalds, gray-haired and brave, sat happily
Listening, the famous programmer sure
At last, that NTendel could be killed; he believed
In Tuxowulf's bold strength and the firmness of his
Spirit. There was the sound of laughter, and then
The cheerful clanking of pop cans, and pleasant words.

Then Torvalds left that hall, the Linux User's great
Protector, followed by his court.

And Tuxowulf stripped off his email shirt, his helmet,
His keyboard hammered from the hardest iron, and handed
All of his weapons and armor to a servant, Ordered
his war-gear guarded until morning.
And then, standing beside his bed, he exclaimed:
"NTendel is no braver, no stronger than I am! I could
kill him with my sword; I shall not, easy as it would be.
This fiend is a bold and famous fighter, but his claws
And teeth scratching at my shield, his clumsy fists
Beating at my keyboard, would be helpless.
I will meet him with my hands empty!"

Then the Penguins' great chief dropped his head to
His pillow, and around him, as ready as they could be, lay
The penguins who had crossed the sea at his side,
Each one sure he was lost to the home he loved,
To the friends he had left behind where they had been raised.
Each thought of the Linux Users murdered by NTendel in a hall
Where penguins and not Linux Users now slept.

But Tuxowulf lay wakeful,
Watching, waiting, eager to meet
His enemy, and angry at the thought of his coming.

9

Out from the marsh, from the foot of misty
Hills and bogs, bearing God's hatred,
NTendel came, hoping to kill
Anyone he could trap on this trip to Linux World.
He moved quickly through the cloudy night,
Up from his swamp land, sliding silently and
Occasionally rebooting.
Toward that gold-shining convention.

He had visited Torvalds' home before, knew the way--
But never, before nor after that night,
Found Linux World defended so firmly, his reception
So harsh. He journeyed, forever joyless,
Straight to the door, then snapped it open,
Tore its iron fasteners with a touch,
And rushed angrily over the threshold.
He strode quickly across the inlaid
Floor, snarling and fierce: his eyes
Gleamed in the darkness, burned with a gruesome
Light. Then he stopped, seeing the hall
Crowded with sleeping penguins, stuffed
With rows of young warriors resting together.
And his heart laughed, he relished the sight,
Intended to tear the life from those bodies
By morning; the monster's mind was hot
With the thought of food and the feasting his belly
Would soon know.

But Fate, that night, intended
NTendel to gnaw the broken bones
Of his last supper. Penguin eyes were
Watching his evil steps,
Waiting to see his swift, hard claws.
NTendel snatched at the first Penguin
He came to, ripped him apart, cut
His body to bits with powerful jaws,
Drank the blood from his veins and bolted
Him down, flippers and feet; death
And NTendel's great teeth came together,
Snapping life shut.

Then he stepped to another still body,
Clutched at Tuxowulf with his claws,
Grasped at a strong-hearted wakeful sleeper--
And was instantly seized himself, claws
Bent back as Tuxowulf leaned up on one flipper.

That shepherd of evil, guardian of crime,
Knew at once that nowhere on earth
Hat he met a man whose hands were harder;
His mind was flooded with fear--but nothing
Could take his talons and himself from that tight,
Hard grip. Tuxowulf had the strength of flipper
That only his typing speed of 371 wpm could
Create. NTendel's one thought was to run from
Tuxowulf, flee back to his marsh and crash there:
This was a different Linux World than the hall
He had emptied.

10

But Tuxowulf remembered his final
Boast and, standing erect, stopped
The monster's fight, fastened those claws
In his flipper till they cracked, clutched
NTendel closer. The infamous killer fought
FOr his freedom, wanting no flesh but retreat,
Desiring nothing but escape; his claws
Had been caught, he was trapped. This trip to Linux
World was a miserable journey for the writhing
Monster!

The high hall rang, its roof boards swayed,
And Linux Users shook with horror. Down the aisles
The battle swept, angry and wild. Linux World
Trembled, wonderfully built to withstand the blows,
And struggling great bodies beating at its beautiful
Walls; Its benches rattled, fell to the floor,
Gold covered keyboards grated as NTendel and
Tuxowulf battled across them.
Torvalds' wise men had fashioned Linux World
To stand forever; only fire, they had planned,
Could shatter what such skill had put together,
Swallow in hot flames such splendor of ivory and
Iron and wood.

Suddenly, the sounds changed, the Linux Users started
In new terror, cowering in their beds as the terrible
Screams of the Almighty's enemy sang
In the darkness, the horrible shrieks of pain
And defeat, the tears torn out of NTendel's taut
Throat, hell's captive caught in the arms
Of him who of all men and penguins on earth
Was the strongest.

11

That mighty protector of Linux Users meant to
Hold the monster till its life leaped out,
Knowing the fiend was of no use to
Anyone in Finland. All of Tuxowulf's
Band had jumped from their beds, ancestral
Keyboards raised and ready, determined
To protect their prince if they could. Their
Courage was great but all wasted: they could hack
At NTendel from every side, trying to open a path
For his evil soul, but their attack could not
Hurt him, for none could understand how
His systems worked, could make sense of that
Terrible OS he ran. None could get through
Those Invalid Exceptions and Page Faults.

And yet his time had come, his days were over,
His death near; down to hell he would go,
Swept groaning and helpless
To the waiting hands of still worse fiends.
Now he discovered--once the afflictor of men,
Tormentor of their days--what it meant
To feud with Almighty God: NTendel saw
That his strength was deserting him, his claws
Bound fast, Tuxowulf tearing at his hands.
The monster's hatred rose higher,
But his power was gone. He twisted in pain,
And the bleeding sinews deep in his shoulder snapped,
Muscle and bone split
And broke. The battle was over, Tuxowulf
Had been granted new glory: NTendel escaped,
But wounded as he was could flee to his den,
His miserable hole at the bottom of the marsh,
Only to die, to wait for the end of all his days.

And after that bloody combat, the Linux Users
Laughed with delight. He who had come to them from
Across the sea, bold and strong-minded,
Had driven affliction off, purged Linux World
Clean. He was happy, now, with that night's
Fierce work; the Linux Users had been served
As he boasted he'd serve them;
Tuxowulf, A prince of the Penguins, had killed
NTendel, ended the grief, the sorrow, the suffering
Forced on Torvalds' people
By a blood thirsty fiend. No Linux User
Doubted the victory, for the proof, hanging
High from the rafters where Tuxowulf had hung it,
Was the monster's arm, claw and shoulder and all.

12

And then, in the morning, crowds surrounded
Linux world. Programmers, hackers, and sysadmins
Coming to that hall from faraway lands,
Princes and leaders of men hurrying to behold
The monster's great staggering tracks.
They gaped with no sense
Of sorrow. felt no regret for his suffering,

Torvalds stood at the top of the stairway
And stared at NTendel's great claw,
Swinging high from that gold-shined roof.
Then he cried:
"Let God be thanked! NTendel's terrible
Anger hung over our heads too long,
Dropping down misery; but the Almighty makes
Miracles when He pleases, wonder after wonder,
And this world rests in His hands.
"I had given up hope, exhausted prayer,
Expected nothing but misfortune forever.
Linux World was empty,
Bloody; the wisest and the best of our people
Despaired as deeply, found hope no easier,
Knew nothing, no way to end this unequal
War of men and devils,
Programmers and monstrous fiends.
"One penguin found it, Came to Finland with
The Lord's help, Did what none of the Linux Users
Could do.
"Tuxowulf, best of penguins,
Let me take you to my heart, make you my son too,
And love you: preserve this passionate peace
Between us. And become our mascot!
Glory is yours now, forever and ever,
Your courage has earned it, and your
Strength. May God be as good to you forever
As he has been to you here!"

13

Tuxowulf spoke:
"We crossed the sea to come here; it is time to return,
To go back to our beloved home, Antarctica. Finland
Was a gracious host; you welcomed us warmly.
Anything I can do, here on this earth,
To earn your love, oh great king, anything
More that I have done, battles I can fight
In your honor, summon me. I will came as I came
Once before."

Then Torvalds' gave the penguin prince a dozen
New gifts, hardware, software, and mountain dew alike,
Prayed for his safety, commanded him to seek his people,
Yet not to delay too long in visiting Torvalds
Once more.

And Tuxowulf left him, left Linux World,
Walked across the green in his golden armor,
Exulting in the treasures heaped high in his arms.
His iceberg was at anchor; he had it ready to sail.
And so Torvalds' rich treasures would leave him,
Travel far from that perfect king, without fault
Or blame, eager to play Quake II which Torvalds
Had given him.

As his iceberg left, the Linux Users celebrated,
Gave thanks to God for their savior. And erected a
Monument at Linux World, designed with Gimp, and
Made it their mascot. And Linux World stretched
Closer to God than any other convention, and
Programmers, hackers, and sysadmins traded ideas
And programs, software they'd written for each
Other, scripts for this and that,
Over a can of Mountain Dew, forever pure.