I have used S.A.J. Bradley's translation from his book Anglo-Saxon Poetry, and have kept his structure for the translation.
I

 
1 I have heard that far away from here in the regions of the east exists the noblest of lands renowned among men. This expanse of earth is not accessible to many of the potentates across the world, for through the might of the ordaining Lord it is far removed from evil-doers. The whole plateau is beautiful, delightfully endowed with earth's loveliest perfumes. Unparalleled is that land of rivers and noble the Maker, magnanimous, abounding in powers, who formed that land. There heaven-kingdom's portal is often open and the delightfulness of singing voices revealed to the blessed. It is a delightsome plateau. There the green woodlands, spacious beneath the skies, not rain nor snow, nor breath of frost nor scorch of fire, nor falling of hail nor drizzle of rime, nor heat of the sun nor incessant cold, nor torrid weather nor wintry shower may spoil a whit, but the plateau remains perfect and unmarred. That noble land is abloom with blossoms. There stand no mountains nor steep hills there, nor do rocky cliffs rear aloft as here with us, no valleys nor dales nor ravines, hillocks nor dunes, and there lies there never a scrap of rough ground, but this noble plateau burgeons beneath the heavens, abloom with delights.
 
28 The radiant land, that region, is higher by twelve fathoms - so in their wisdom sages knowledgeable from their studies inform us in their writings - than any of the mountains which rear aloft, luminous beneath the constellations, here with us.
 
33 It is serene, that transcendent plateau. The grove of the sun shimmers, a delightsome wood; the foliage, the luminous leaves, do not fall, but the trees stand ever green as God commanded them. Winter and summer alike, the wood is festooned with leaves; never a leaf will wither under the sky nor fire ever to the fullness of time cause them harm, before the transformation comes upon the world. When of old the water's torrent, the flood, covered the whole world, the earth's ambit, then this noble plateau, in every way unmarred, stood secured against the rough waves' watery encroachment, blessed, unsullied, by the grace of God; so it will remain, abloom, until the coming of the conflagration and the judgement of the Lord, when the vaults of death, the gloomy tombs of mortals are opened.
 
50 There in that land is no loathsome foe, not weeping nor anguish, no sign of woe, not senility nor disease nor painful death nor losing of life, no onset of the abhorrent, neither sin nor strife nor wounding anguish, neither poverty's struggle nor want of wealth, not sorrow nor sleep nor grievous illness, not wintry squalls nor the flurry of tempests and stormy weather beneath the heavens, nor does harsh frost oppress anyone with its freezing icicles. Neither hail nor rime is there, falling to the earth, nor wind-blown cloud, nor does the water there, agitated by the breeze, fall downwards, but there wonderfully ornamental streams and wells spout forth in lovely springs. Delightful waters from out of the midst of the wood irrigate the earth, which every month gush cold as the sea from the turf of the ground and at these seasons percolate the whole grove in spate. It is the Prince's bidding that twelve times the delightfulness of fluent streams should ripple throughout that glorious land. There the wood's adornments, sanctified though below the heavens, never fade, nor do the blossoms, the beauty of the trees, fall brown to the ground, but there on those trees, perpetually, like a work of art, the laden branches continue green on the grassy plain, and the fruit fresh through all time, and that most dazzling of groves pleasantly bedecked by the powers of holy God. Never does the wood come to be marred in its appearance; the sanctified perfume there lingers throughout that land of delight. Never to the fullness of time will this be changed before the wise God who shaped it in the first place brings to an end his ancient work.
 
 
II
  
         
85 That wood a bird inhabits, wonderfully handsome, strong of wings, which is called Phoenix. There this creature unparalleled keeps his dwelling and, courageous of heart, his way of life; never shall death harm him in that pleasant plateau while the world remains. He is accustomed to observe the sun's course and to address himself towards God's candle, the brilliant gem, and eagerly to watch for when the noblest of stars comes up over the billowy sea, gleaming from the east, the ancient work of the Father ornately glinting, God's radiant token. The stars are hidden, gone below the ocean in the western regions, obscured in the dawning, and the dark gloomy night departs. Then the bird, powerful in flight, exultant in his wings, gazes eagerly upon the main beneath the sky, across the water, until the lamp of the firmament comes gliding up from the east above the broad sea. As the noble bird, unchangingly handsome, frequents the welling streams at the fountain-head, there the glory-blessed creature laves himself in the brook twelve times before the advent of the beacon, the candle of the firmament, and ever as often at each laving sips water cold as the sea from the pleasant well-springs. Then after splashing in the water, exalted in mood he betakes himself up into a tall tree from where he may most easily observe the journey on the eastern paths, when the taper of the firmament, a lamp of light, brightly glints over the tossing of the deep. The land is embellished, the world beautified, when across the expanse of the ocean the gem of heaven, of stars the most glorious, illumines the earth throughout the world.