The lif so short, the craft so long to lerne,
Th’assay so sharp, so hard the conqueringe,
The dredful joye alway that slit so yerne,
Al this mene I by Love, that my feelinge
Astonieth with his wonderful werkinge
So sore, ywis, that whan I on him thinke,
Nat woot I wel wher that I flete or sinke.
For al be that I knowe nat Love in deede,
Ne woot how that he quiteth folk hir hire,
Yit happeth me ful ofte in bookes rede
Of his miracles and his cruel ire;
That rede I wel, he wol be lord and sire:
I dar nat sayn—his strokes been so sore—
But “God save swich a lord!”—I saye namore.
That feel when you are literally the narrator of the Parlement of Foules
>tfw spent a month trying to decipher this shit
How the fuck do english majors get taught chaucer? Is there a guide on how to pronounce the words properly because it's impossible for me to decipher them on paper.
>>8145903
Here's a translation I found online:
The life so brief, the art so long in the learning, the attempt so hard, the conquest so sharp, the fearful joy that ever slips away so quickly--by all this I mean love, which so sorely astounds my feeling with its wondrous operation, that when I think upon it I scarce know whether I wake or sleep. For albeit I know not love myself; nor how he pays people their wage, yet I have very often chanced to read in books of his miracles and his cruel anger there, surely, I read he will ever be lord and sovereign, and his strokes will be so heavy I dare say nothing but, "God save such a lord!" I can say no more.
>>8145903
you probably can find an adapted version, either simply annotated or both annotated and with modernized spelling
I've been reading Chaucer and similar medieval stuff so long it takes a moment to realize what people are talking about when they say they need a translation. It's like people bitching about Shakespeare.
And thanne shul we be lordes al oure lyf shall
Of al the world, as Noe and his wyf.
“But of o thyng I warne thee ful right:
Be wel avysed on that ilke nyght
That we ben entred into shippes bord
That noon of us ne speke nat a word,
Ne clepe, ne crie, but been in his preyere,
For it is Goddes owene heeste deere.
“Thy wyf and thou moote hange fer atwynne,
For that bitwixe yow shal be no synne,
Namoore in lookyng than ther shal in deede.
This ordinance is seyd. Go, God thee speede!
>>8145981
I haven't been reading them for long and I don't get those people either, I think they might just be dumb desu
>>8145981
chaucer is middle english though while shakespear is early modern english
modern english can be hard too, this poem made me so angry to decipher it when i read it a couple of days ago
>But lang may her minny look o'er the wa',
>But lang may she seek i' the green-wood shaw;
>Lang the laird o' Duneira blame,
>And lang, lang greet or Kilmeny come hame!
>>8146140
That's Scots though
