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THE PROLOGUE.

The Sompnour in his stirrups high he stood,
Upon this Friar his hearte was so wood,                        furious
That like an aspen leaf he quoke* for ire:             quaked, trembled
"Lordings," quoth he, "but one thing I desire;
I you beseech, that of your courtesy,
Since ye have heard this false Friar lie,
As suffer me I may my tale tell
This Friar boasteth that he knoweth hell,
And, God it wot, that is but little wonder,
Friars and fiends be but little asunder.
For, pardie, ye have often time heard tell,
How that a friar ravish'd was to hell
In spirit ones by a visioun,
And, as an angel led him up and down,
To shew him all the paines that there were,
In all the place saw he not a frere;
Of other folk he saw enough in woe.
Unto the angel spake the friar tho;
                               then
'Now, Sir,' quoth he, 'have friars such a grace,
That none of them shall come into this place?'
'Yes' quoth the angel; 'many a millioun:'
And unto Satanas he led him down.
'And now hath Satanas,' said he, 'a tail
Broader than of a carrack is the sail.
Hold up thy tail, thou Satanas,' quoth he,
'Shew forth thine erse, and let the friar see
Where is the nest of friars in this place.'
And *less than half a furlong way of space
            immediately
Right so as bees swarmen out of a hive,
Out of the devil's erse there gan to drive
A twenty thousand friars on a rout.                       in a crowd
And throughout hell they swarmed all about,
And came again, as fast as they may gon,
And in his erse they creeped every one:
He clapt his tail again, and lay full still.
This friar, when he looked had his fill
Upon the torments of that sorry place,
His spirit God restored of his grace
Into his body again, and he awoke;
But natheless for feare yet he quoke,
So was the devil's erse aye in his mind;
That is his heritage, of very kind                by his very nature
God save you alle, save this cursed Frere;
My prologue will I end in this mannere.

Notes to the Prologue to the Sompnour's Tale

1. Carrack: A great ship of burden used by the Portuguese; the
name is from the Italian, "cargare," to load

2. In less than half a furlong way of space: immediately;
literally, in less time than it takes to walk half a furlong (110
yards).

THE TALE.

Lordings, there is in Yorkshire, as I guess,
A marshy country called Holderness,
In which there went a limitour about
To preach, and eke to beg, it is no doubt.
And so befell that on a day this frere
Had preached at a church in his mannere,
And specially, above every thing,
Excited he the people in his preaching
To trentals,  and to give, for Godde's sake,
Wherewith men mighte holy houses make,
There as divine service is honour'd,
Not there as it is wasted and devour'd,
Nor where it needeth not for to be given,
As to possessioners,  that may liven,
Thanked be God, in wealth and abundance.
"Trentals," said he, "deliver from penance
Their friendes' soules, as well old as young,
Yea, when that they be hastily y-sung, --
Not for to hold a priest jolly and gay,
He singeth not but one mass in a day.
"Deliver out," quoth he, "anon the souls.
Full hard it is, with flesh-hook or with owls                     *awls
To be y-clawed, or to burn or bake:
Now speed you hastily, for Christe's sake."
And when this friar had said all his intent,
With qui *** patre forth his way he went,
When folk in church had giv'n him what them lest;
              pleased
He went his way, no longer would he rest,
With scrip and tipped staff, *y-tucked high:
      with his robe tucked
In every house he gan to pore
and pry,                   up high* peer
And begged meal and cheese, or elles corn.
His fellow had a staff tipped with horn,
A pair of tables
all of ivory,                         writing tablets
And a pointel
y-polish'd fetisly,                  pencil *daintily
And wrote alway the names, as he stood;
Of all the folk that gave them any good,
Askaunce* that he woulde for them pray.                    see note
"Give us a bushel wheat, or malt, or rey,
                          rye
A Godde's kichel,
or a trip
of cheese,        little cake scrap
Or elles what you list, we may not chese;
                       choose
A Godde's halfpenny,  or a mass penny;
Or give us of your brawn, if ye have any;
A dagon
of your blanket, leve dame,                            remnant
Our sister dear, -- lo, here I write your name,--
Bacon or beef, or such thing as ye find."
A sturdy harlot
went them aye behind,                   manservant
That was their hoste's man, and bare a sack,
And what men gave them, laid it on his back
And when that he was out at door, anon
He *planed away
the names every one,                       rubbed out
That he before had written in his tables:
He served them with nifles* and with fables. --             silly tales

"Nay, there thou liest, thou Sompnour," quoth the Frere.
"Peace," quoth our Host, "for Christe's mother dear;
Tell forth thy tale, and spare it not at all."
"So thrive I," quoth this Sompnour, "so I shall." --

So long he went from house to house, till he
Came to a house, where he was wont to be
Refreshed more than in a hundred places
Sick lay the husband man, whose that the place is,
Bed-rid upon a couche low he lay:
"Deus hic,"* quoth he; "O Thomas friend, good day,"       God be here
Said this friar, all courteously and soft.
"Thomas," quoth he, "God yield it you, full oft       reward you for
Have I upon this bench fared full well,
Here have I eaten many a merry meal."
And from the bench he drove away the cat,
And laid adown his potent* and his hat,                       staff
And eke his scrip, and sat himself adown:
His fellow was y-walked into town
Forth with his knave,
into that hostelry                       servant
Where as he shope
him that night to lie.              shaped, purposed

"O deare master," quoth this sicke man,
"How have ye fared since that March began?
I saw you not this fortenight and more."
"God wot," quoth he, "labour'd have I full sore;
And specially for thy salvation
Have I said many a precious orison,
And for mine other friendes, God them bless.
I have this day been at your church at mess,
                      mass
And said sermon after my simple wit,
Not all after the text of Holy Writ;
For it is hard to you, as I suppose,
And therefore will I teach you aye the glose.
           gloss, comment
Glosing is a full glorious thing certain,
For letter slayeth, as we clerkes
sayn.                       scholars
There have I taught them to be charitable,
And spend their good where it is reasonable.
And there I saw our dame; where is she?"
"Yonder I trow that in the yard she be,"
Saide this man; "and she will come anon."
"Hey master, welcome be ye by Saint John,"
Saide this wife; "how fare ye heartily?"

This friar riseth up full courteously,
And her embraceth *in his armes narrow,
                        closely
And kiss'th her sweet, and chirketh as a sparrow
With his lippes: "Dame," quoth he, "right well,
As he that is your servant every deal.
                            whit
Thanked be God, that gave you soul and life,
Yet saw I not this day so fair a wife
In all the churche, God so save me,"
"Yea, God amend defaultes, Sir," quoth she;
"Algates
welcome be ye, by my fay."                             always
"Grand mercy, Dame; that have I found alway.
But of your greate goodness, by your leave,
I woulde pray you that ye not you grieve,
I will with Thomas speak *a little throw:
              a little while
These curates be so negligent and slow
To ***** tenderly a conscience.
In shrift* and preaching is my diligence                     confession
And study in Peter's wordes and in Paul's;
I walk and fishe Christian menne's souls,
To yield our Lord Jesus his proper rent;
To spread his word is alle mine intent."
"Now by your faith, O deare Sir," quoth she,
"Chide him right well, for sainte charity.
He is aye angry as is a pismire,
                                   ant
Though that he have all that he can desire,
Though I him wrie
at night, and make him warm,                   cover
And ov'r him lay my leg and eke mine arm,
He groaneth as our boar that lies in sty:
Other disport of him right none have I,
I may not please him in no manner case."
"O Thomas, *je vous dis,
Thomas, Thomas,                   I tell you
This maketh the fiend, this must be amended.     is the devil's work
Ire is a thing that high God hath defended,                  forbidden
And thereof will I speak a word or two."
"Now, master," quoth the wife, "ere that I go,
What will ye dine? I will go thereabout."
"Now, Dame," quoth he, "je vous dis sans doute,
Had I not of a capon but the liver,
And of your white bread not but a shiver,                   *thin slice
And after that a roasted pigge's head,
(But I would that for me no beast were dead,)
Then had I with you homely suffisance.
I am a man of little sustenance.
My spirit hath its fost'ring in the Bible.
My body is aye so ready and penible
                        painstaking
To wake,
that my stomach is destroy'd.                           watch
I pray you, Dame, that ye be not annoy'd,
Though I so friendly you my counsel shew;
By God, I would have told it but to few."
"Now, Sir," quoth she, "but one word ere I go;
My child is dead within these weeke's two,
Soon after that ye went out of this town."

"His death saw I by revelatioun,"
Said this friar, "at home in our dortour.
               dormitory
I dare well say, that less than half an hour
Mter his death, I saw him borne to bliss
In mine vision, so God me wiss.
                                 direct
So did our sexton, and our fermerere,
                 infirmary-keeper
That have been true friars fifty year, --
They may now, God be thanked of his love,
Make their jubilee, and walk above.
And up I rose, and all our convent eke,
With many a teare trilling on my cheek,
Withoute noise or clattering of bells,
Te Deum was our song, and nothing else,
Save that to Christ I bade an orison,
Thanking him of my revelation.
For, Sir and Dame, truste me right well,
Our orisons be more effectuel,
And more we see of Christe's secret things,
Than *borel folk,
although that they be kings.             laymen
We live in povert', and in abstinence,
And borel folk in riches and dispence
Of meat and drink, and in their foul delight.
We have this worlde's lust* all in despight
      * pleasure *contempt
Lazar and Dives lived diversely,
And diverse guerdon
hadde they thereby.                         reward
Whoso will pray, he must fast and be clean,
And fat his soul, and keep his body lean
We fare as saith th' apostle; cloth
and food                  clothing
Suffice us, although they be not full good.
The cleanness and the fasting of us freres
Maketh that Christ accepteth our prayeres.
Lo, Moses forty days and forty night
Fasted, ere that the high God full of might
Spake with him in the mountain of Sinai:
With empty womb
of fasting many a day                          stomach
Received he the lawe, that was writ
With Godde's finger; and Eli, well ye wit,
                    know
In Mount Horeb, ere he had any speech
With highe God, that is our live's leech,
            *physician, healer
He fasted long, and was in contemplance.
Aaron, that had the temple in governance,
And eke the other priestes every one,
Into the temple when they shoulde gon
To praye for the people, and do service,
They woulde drinken in no manner wise
No drinke, which that might them drunken make,
But t
Freres humains qui apres nous vivez,
N'ayez les coeurs contre nous endurcis ...
Men, brother men, that after us yet live,
Let not your hearts too hard against us be;
For if some pity of us poor men ye give,
The sooner God shall take of you pity.
Here are we five or six strung up, you see,
And here the flesh that all too well we fed
Bit by bit eaten and rotten, rent and shred,
And we the bones grow dust and ash withal;
Let no man laugh at us discomforted,
But pray to God that he forgive us all.
If we call on you, brothers, to forgive,


Ye should not hold our prayer in scorn, though we
Were slain by law; ye know that all alive
Have not wit always to walk righteously;
Make therefore intercession heartily
With him that of a ******'s womb was bred,
That his grace be not as a dr-y well-head
For us, nor let hell's thunder on us fall;
We are dead, let no man harry or vex us dead,
But pray to God that he forgive us all.


The rain has washed and laundered us all five,
And the sun dried and blackened; yea, perdie,
Ravens and pies with beaks that rend and rive
Have dug our eyes out, and plucked off for fee
Our beards and eyebrows; never we are free,
Not once, to rest; but here and there still sped,
Driven at its wild will by the wind's change led,
More pecked of birds than fruits on garden-wall;
Men, for God's love, let no gibe here be said,
But pray to God that he forgive us all.
Prince Jesus, that of all art lord and head,
Keep us, that hell be not our bitter bed;
We have nought to do in such a master's hall.
Be not ye therefore of our fellowhead,
But pray to God that he forgive us all.


Algernon Charles Swinburne, trans.
Bad Dec 2014
Sitting in this room,

                  S e a r c h I n g     for    b r o t h e r s    in my head,

Not the ones  I’ve always had;
those that are united by a common womb.

But the ones who have infected me with a  lush sense,
an unspoken quality,
who have a presence so surreal,
always speaking to my soul.
My non-birth brothers,
Criminals of the same shade of blue,
Boys with the pain of a quiet kind,

Paramount people in a pickled world,
Oh my  brothers,
we are lines in the sand,
Definite and fading.
You are the ones,
the ones who meant something
To me.
Qualyxian Quest Aug 2019
both Moby and Phillip K. ****
      the book I love and the flicks
              try the best I Kan, indeed Als Ick ...

                                 wifestrife!
Keiri Oct 2019
I will speak a thousand words unspoken
Leave a hundred paws unprint
Have dozens of nights awoken
Smell the singular wind

I will see the invisible, and touch the nothing
I shall be irresistable, with what you have to bring

Yours I shall become, your neck is my future
My teeth do no harm, your words are a murmur

Regardez-moi, Tu me vois!
C'est moi tu portes, ma vie, ma joy.
Pourquoi ma vie tu t'en fous pas?
Pourquoi tu choisis quoi je sera?

Regardez-moi, Tu me vois!
Alors, n'ecoute pas

C'est ma vie vous avez pris
Pas des personnes s'entendent mes cris

Qui méconnaît mes pleurs
Qui tue mes freres et soeurs?

Regardez-moi, si tu t'en fous
Je suis la vison autour ta cou.

Maar het doet je niets, je hoort me niet
Je ziet het bloed niet dat je vergiet
Je hoort en spreekt en ziet en luistert
Alle leugens die je voor me verduisterd

Je doet me pijn, weet je dat
Al is het iets dat je snel vergat

Al zie je niets als je me draagt
Al weet je niets als men je vraagt

daremonai ga watashi no gengo wo hanashimasen
demo kono ate watashi no atama ha ten ni iko

to watashi no karada ha anata no issho ni aru darou.
shin ha kowai deshou.

Watashi ha anata no fuku koto ni naranai.
Dakara sore koto ni kawatte shimasu kudasai

Shin ha totemo kowai desu.

Spreche die sprache der toten
Wer hat mich leben angeboten
Von mirh zu stelen?
Ist Daß nicht elend?

neden beni seviyorsun musun?
beni öldürüyorsun
Şans sen veriyorum
sevgi giyebilirsin musun?
beni öldürmüyorsan

For I will speak a thousand words unspoken
Look at me. you see me!
Even though you lie to me
I refuse to be yours!

Speak the language of the dead
You can't wear love to **** it.
I will speak a thousand words unspoken
Leave a hundred paws unprint
Have dozens of nights awoken
Smell the singular wind
I will see the invisible, and touch the nothing
I shall be irresistable, with what you have to bring
Yours I shall become, your neck is my future
My teeth do no harm, your words are a murmur
French part:
Look at me, you see me!
It's me you wear, my life, my joy.
Why don't you care about me?
Why do you choose who I'll become?
Look at me, you see me!
Yet, you don't listen.
It's my life you took,
and nobody hears me cry.
Who will ignore my tears,
who killed my brothers and sisters?
Look at me, even if you don’t care
I am the mink in your neck
Dutch part:
But you don’t care, you don’t listen
You can’t aknowledge the blood you spilled
You hear and speak and see and listen
Only the lies that you kept in the dark for me
You are hurting me, did you know?
Even though you forgot it just so.
Even though you can’t see, if you wear me.
Even though you can’t answer when we plead.
Japanese part:
Nobody speaks my words
But I turn my head to the heavens
And my body will stay with you
Death fears me
I refuse to become your clothing
So please, do something
German part:
Speak the language of the dead
Who offered me this life?
To steal from me?
Isn’t that just miserable?
Turkish part:
Why do you love me?
If you are killing me?
I will give you a chance, but
Is love something you can wear?
Only, if you don’t **** me for it!
For I will speak a thousand words unspoken
Look at me. you see me!
Even though you lie to me
I refuse to be yours!
Speak the language of the dead
You can't wear love to **** it.
Keiri Nov 2019
I will speak a thousand words unspoken.
Leave a hundred paws unprint.
Have dozens of nights awoken.
Smell the lonesome wind.

I will see the invisible, and touch the nothing.
I shall be irresistible, with what you have to bring.

Yours I shall become, your neck will be my future.
My teeth do no harm and your words are a murmur.

Regarde moi, Tu me vois!
Tu me portes, ma vie, ma joie.
Pourquoi tu te fous de ma vie?
Dis-moi, comment je survis?

Tu choisis ce que je serai!
Je ne comprends pas ce que tu me vais!

Regarde-moi, Tu me vois!
Alors, n'ecoute pas!

C'est ma vie que vous avez prise
Personne n'entend mes cris

Qui méconnaît mes pleurs
Qui tue mes freres et soeurs?

Maar het doet je niets, je hoort me niet.
Je ziet het bloed niet dat je vergiet.
Je hoort en spreekt en ziet en luistert.
Alle leugens die je voor me verduisterd.

Je doet me pijn, weet je dat.
Al is het iets dat je snel vergat.

Al zie je niets als je me draagt.
Al weet je niets als men je vraagt.

Daremonai ga watashi no gengo wo hanashimasen.
Demo kono ate watashi no atama ha ten ni ikimasen.

Watashi no karada ha anata no issho ni aru darou.
Shin ha kowai deshou.

Watashi ha anata no fuku koto ni naranai.
Dakara sore koto ni kawatte shimasu kudasai.
Shin ha totemo kowai!

Spreche die sprache der toten.
Wer hat mich leben angeboten.
Von mirh zu stelen?
Ist Daß nicht elend?

Trage mich und mein blut.
Trage mich und siehst mich gut.
Dein Schwein pfeift nicht.
Mein Worte sind wirklicht.

Neden beni seviyorsun?
Beni öldürüyorsun.
Bana bir sans ver.
Beni öldürüyorsan.
Beni nasil sevebilirsin?

For I will speak a thousand words unspoken
Dis-moi, que tu me vois?
Of lieg je tegen jezelf?
Beni verdim sans...
Aber du siehst mich nicht!

Speak my language of the death.
Tu ne m'aimes pas que tu me mort.
Regardez-moi, qui tu t'en fous.
Je suis la vison autour ta cou.

_____
Grammar checked "Mink in the neck"
(Still a W.I.P.)
My keyboard failed on me with Turkish, I didn't have an 'i' without the point or the 'S' cedille. Forgive me... (Because of loving in a neighbour country, I did have the German eszett XD. I also had all the French accents. But don't get me startes on all the Japanese characters I couldn't type... Romaji it is XD
Keiri Oct 2019
Regardez-moi, Tu me vois!
C'est moi tu portes, ma vie, ma joie.
Pourquoi ma vie tu t'en fous pas?
Pourquoi tu choisis quoi je sera?

Regardez-moi, moi tu vois!
Alors, tu n'ecoutes pas
C'est ma vie vous avez pris
Pas des personnes s'entendent mes cris

Qui méconnaît mes pleurs
Qui tue mes freres et soeurs?

Regardez-moi, si tu t'en fous
Je suis la vison autour ta cou.
A poem I prepared for a achool art project which I will present before the jury in December. (I'm studying to become an art teacher). My theme will be "mink in the neck", and will be about slaughtering animals for fashion as a sole purpose... I will present paintings which show the insides of minks and shows what cruelty there still is in the fashion and fur factory. I will also wear my sleeping lazy ferret Draco around my neck as a scarf at the exhibit, #fur is prettier when it's alive
TOD HOWARD HAWKS Jul 2020
You were first seen in a painting in the Trois Freres cave circa 13,000 B.C. in what in now France. Like all beautiful women, over centuries you changed shapes, styles, names. You became lyres, then lutes. You played dyads and chords. The Persians callrd you "barbat." The Arabs called you "oud." When the Moors flocked to Iberia, they brought you along. You spread to Provence
where you influenced troubadors and eventually the rest of Europe. But wherever you traveled, whatever evolutions you underwent, you always retained your sonorous tones. You became the French "mandore. You became the German "mandoer." You became the Spanish "vandola." You became the Italiam "mandola." Your path was tortuous. Eventually, though, you became the mandolin, but you still had highs and lows. Your first high was in 1744. Your first low was the end of the Napoleonic Wars of 1815. Your next high was the Paris Exposition of 1878. And further, from the late 19th Century through the early years of the 20h Century, was the "GoldenAge" of the mandolin. But after World War I, the mandolin gradually sufferred another decline supplanted by the advent of Jazz. You, a mandolin, beautiful women you have always been, have lived a long, long life, and it's not over yet. You contine to bring beautiful, musical sounds to all music lovers around the world. Your lovely life may never end.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard hawks has been a poet, anovelist, and a human-rights advocate his entire adult life.

— The End —