Whan the turuf is thy tour
anonymous Middle English poem, circa the 13th century AD
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When the turf is your tower
and the pit is your bower,
your pale white skin and throat
only sullen worms shall note.
What help unto you, then
was all your worldly hope?

*

Original Middle English text:

Whan the turuf is thy tour,
And thy pit is thy bour,
Thy fel and thy whitë throtë
Shullen wormës to notë.
What helpëth thee thennë
Al the worildë wennë?

“Whan the turuf is thy tour” may be one of the oldest carpe diem (“seize the day”) poems in the English language, and an ancestor of Andrew Marvell’s “To His Coy Mistress” with its virginity-destroying worms. Keywords/Tags: Middle English, translation, medieval, anonymous, rhyme, rhyming, medieval, lament, complaint, lamentation, turf, tower, pit, bower, skin, throat, worms, note, help, worldly, hope

the tower of when

1,000 years ago,is nothing in the
tower of when. standing on
a rock , 2 million years past
the future is present
and the present is last

i saw a child who died last night
and lived a hundred years
the peasant begging on the street is me
i'm rich i give you free
call upon the minutes and die again
the tower of when is why

When the flower blooms
She smiles her pleasent hues
Her juices ooze
Advancing petal and raising shoots

A blubous tower in her youth
She curtsies, twirls in my view.

Sun is out
Air is warm
Run out of school
Look at the swarm

No more rules
No more expectations
Let's go party
And find elevation

Party at the moon tower
Drenched in light
We are all
Getting high tonight