That it was May me thoughte tho,
It is fyve yere or more ago; 50
That it was May, thus dremed me,
In tyme of love and Iolitee,
That al thing ginneth waxen gay,
For ther is neither busk nor hay
In May, that it nil shrouded been, 55
And it with newe leves wreen.
It is fyve yere or more ago; 50
That it was May, thus dremed me,
In tyme of love and Iolitee,
That al thing ginneth waxen gay,
For ther is neither busk nor hay
In May, that it nil shrouded been, 55
And it with newe leves wreen.
Chaucer - Romuant of the Rose
<<
FRAGMENT A.
Many men seyn that in sweveninges
Ther nis but fables and lesinges;
But men may somme swevenes seen,
Which hardely ne false been,
But afterward ben apparaunte. 5
This may I drawe to waraunte
An authour, that hight Macrobes,
That halt not dremes false ne lees,
But undoth us the avisioun
That whylom mette king Cipioun. 10
And who-so sayth, or weneth it be
A Iape, or elles [a] nycetee
To wene that dremes after falle,
Let who-so liste a fool me calle.
>>
LE ROMAN DE LA ROSE.
Maintes gens dient que en songes
N'a se fables non et menconges;
Mais l'en puet tiex songes songier
Qui ne sunt mie mencongier;
Ains sunt apres bien apparant.
Si en puis bien trere a garant
Ung acteur qui ot non Macrobes,
Qui ne tint pas songes a lobes;
Aincois escrist la vision
Qui avint au roi Cipion. 10
Quiconques cuide ne qui die
Que soit folor ou musardie
De croire que songes aviengne,
Qui ce voldra, pour fol m'en tiengne;
<<
For this trowe I, and say for me, 15
That dremes signifiaunce be
Of good and harme to many wightes,
That dremen in her slepe a-nightes
Ful many thinges covertly,
That fallen after al openly. 20
Within my twenty yere of age, THE DREAM.
Whan that Love taketh his corage
Of yonge folk, I wente sone
To bedde, as I was wont to done,
And fast I sleep; and in sleping, 25
Me mette swiche a swevening,
That lykede me wonders wel;
But in that sweven is never a del
That it nis afterward befalle,
Right as this dreem wol telle us alle. 30
Now this dreem wol I ryme aright,
To make your hertes gaye and light;
For Love it prayeth, and also
Commaundeth me that it be so
And if ther any aske me, 35
Whether that it be he or she,
How [that] this book [the] which is here
Shal hote, that I rede you here;
>>
Car endroit moi ai-je fiance
Que songe soit senefiance
Des biens as gens et des anuiz,
Car li plusors songent de nuitz
Maintes choses couvertement
Que l'en voit puis apertement. 20
Ou vintiesme an de mon aage,
Ou point qu'Amors prend le paage
Des jones gens, couchiez estoie
Une nuit, si cum je souloie,
Et me dormoie moult forment,
Si vi ung songe en mon dormant,
Qui moult fut biax, et moult me plot,
Mes onques riens ou songe n'ot
Qui avenu trestout ne soit,
Si cum li songes recontoit. 30
Or veil cel songe rimaier,
Por vos cuers plus fere esgaier,
Qu'Amors le me prie et commande;
Et se nus ne nule demande
Comment ge voil que cilz Rommanz
Soit apelez, que ge commanz:
<<
It is the Romance of the Rose,
In which al the art of love I close. 40
The mater fair is of to make;
God graunte in gree that she it take
For whom that it begonnen is!
And that is she that hath, y-wis,
So mochel prys; and ther-to she 45
So worthy is biloved be,
That she wel oughte of prys and right,
Be cleped Rose of every wight.
That it was May me thoughte tho,
It is fyve yere or more ago; 50
That it was May, thus dremed me,
In tyme of love and Iolitee,
That al thing ginneth waxen gay,
For ther is neither busk nor hay
In May, that it nil shrouded been, 55
And it with newe leves wreen.
These wodes eek recoveren grene,
That drye in winter been to sene;
And the erthe wexeth proud withalle,
For swote dewes that on it falle, 60
And [al] the pore estat forget
In which that winter hadde it set,
>>
Ce est li Rommanz de la Rose,
Ou l'art d'Amors est tote enclose.
La matire en est bone et noeve:
Or doint Diez qu'en gre le recoeve 40
Cele por qui ge l'ai empris.
C'est cele qui tant a de pris,
Et tant est digne d'estre amee,
Qu'el doit estre Rose clamee.
Avis m'iere qu'il estoit mains,
Il a ja bien cincq ans, au mains,
En Mai estoie, ce songoie,
El tems amoreus plain de joie,
El tens ou tote riens s'esgaie,
Que l'en ne voit boisson ne haie 50
Qui en Mai parer ne se voille,
Et covrir de novele foille;
Li bois recovrent lor verdure,
Qui sunt sec tant cum yver dure,
La terre meisme s'orgoille
Por la rousee qui la moille,
Et oblie la poverte
Ou ele a tot l'yver este.
<<
And than bicometh the ground so proud
That it wol have a newe shroud,
And maketh so queynt his robe and fayr 65
That it hath hewes an hundred payr
Of gras and floures, inde and pers,
And many hewes ful dyvers:
That is the robe I mene, y-wis,
Through which the ground to preisen is. 70
The briddes, that han left hir song,
Whyl they han suffred cold so strong
In wedres grille, and derk to sighte,
Ben in May, for the sonne brighte,
So glade, that they shewe in singing, 75
That in hir herte is swich lyking,
That they mote singen and be light.
Than doth the nightingale hir might
To make noyse, and singen blythe.
Than is blisful, many a sythe, 80
The chelaundre and the papingay.
Than yonge folk entenden ay
For to ben gay and amorous,
The tyme is than so savorous.
Hard is his herte that loveth nought 85
In May, whan al this mirth is wrought;
>>
Lors devient la terre si gobe,
Qu'ele volt avoir novele robe; 60
Si scet si cointe robe faire,
Que de colors i a cent paire,
D'erbes, de flors indes et perses,
Et de maintes colors diverses.
C'est la robe que ge devise,
Por quoi la terre miex se prise.
Li oisel, qui se sunt teu
Tant cum il ont le froit eu,
Et le tens divers et frarin,
Sunt en Mai, por le tens serin, 70
Si lie qu'il monstrent en chantant
Qu'en lor cuer a de joie tant,
Qu'il lor estuet chanter par force.
Li rossignos lores s'efforce
De chanter et de faire noise;
Lors s'esvertue, et lors s'envoise
Li papegaus et la kalandre:
Lors estuet jones gens entendre
A estre gais et amoreus
Por le tens bel et doucereus. 80
Moult a dur cuer qui en Mai n'aime,
<<
Whan he may on these braunches here
The smale briddes singen clere
Hir blisful swete song pitous;
And in this sesoun delytous, 90
Whan love affrayeth alle thing,
Me thoughte a-night, in my sleping,
Right in my bed, ful redily,
That it was by the morowe erly,
And up I roos, and gan me clothe; 95
Anoon I wissh myn hondes bothe;
A sylvre nedle forth I drogh
Out of an aguiler queynt y-nogh,
And gan this nedle threde anon;
For out of toun me list to gon 100
The sowne of briddes for to here,
That on thise busshes singen clere.
And in the swete sesoun that leef is,
With a threde basting my slevis,
Aloon I wente in my playing, 105
The smale foules song harkning;
That peyned hem ful many a payre
To singe on bowes blosmed fayre.