I live alone, wounded by iron,Struck by a sword, tired of battle-work,Weary of blades. Often I see war,Fight a fearsome foe. I crave no comfort,That safety might come to me out of the war-strifeBefore I among men perish completely.But the forged brands strike me,Hard-edged and fiercely sharp, the handwork of smiths,They bite me in the strongholds. I must wait forA more murderous meeting. Never a physicianIn the battlefield could I findOne of those who with herbs healed woundsBut my sword slashes grow greaterThrough death blows day and night.   Помогите пожалуйста перевести!!!!