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"herte" poems
I singe with a hertly lud whan ycham herty, And I arme whan singinge is ne ynewe. Carole whan my corage blissieth, And I shal deye whan his blase deyeth. Druerie shal be his a-brune billets. A stable blase that shal sustene my spyrakles. A schrewe destroyere that kesseth so dimliche. A þeauful kempe with an as-spire swerde. Gostes of i-þank als ouer my vingeres. Al-only dulce conceiptes fletene in my gostes. Sumdel real cannot be als amaddinge. Sumdel real cannot be te-tealte! Is the mannish þonc als mase and puissant Sweuenen of suic a selkout conand? Dest Moder Folde cune of hire child? Hire misty doter who berne and bilde? The hoom is not where the herte is. The herte is the hoom bote motif The herte, the hoom, the ende, and the sepulture. A luft who is the mest derure in the Folde.
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Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 11:02 AM UTC
A Luuerlich Mortherer (Middle English Sonnet)
Rejection a roundel by Geoffrey Chaucer loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Your beauty from your heart has so erased Pity, that it’s useless to complain; For Pride now holds your mercy by a chain. I’m guiltless, yet my sentence has been passed. I tell you truly, needless now to feign: Your beauty from your heart has so erased Pity, that it’s useless to complain. Alas, that Nature in your face compassed Such beauty, that no man may hope attain To mercy, though he perish from the pain; Your beauty from your heart has so erased Pity, that it’s useless to complain; For Pride now holds your mercy by a chain. ********* Original text: So hath your beaute fro your herte chaced Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne; For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne. Giltles my deth thus han ye me purchaced; I sey yow soth, me nedeth not to feyne; So hath your beaute fro your herle chaced Pilee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne Allas! that nature hath in yow compassed So gret beaute, that no man may atteyne To mercy, though he sterve for the peyne. So hath your beaute fro your herte chaced Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne; For daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.
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Feb 24, 2020
Feb 24, 2020 at 5:00 AM UTC
Geoffrey Chaucer "Rejection" translation