Y-wis, gret qualm ne were it noon,
Ne sinne, although hir lyf were gon.
Ne sinne, although hir lyf were gon.
Chaucer - Romuant of the Rose
Oncques mes nus en tel martire
Ne fu, ne n'ot ausinc grant ire
Cum il sembloit que ele eust:
Je cuit que nus ne li seust
Faire riens qui li peust plaire:
N'el ne se vosist pas retraire,
Ne reconforter a nul fuer
Du duel qu'ele avoit a son cuer. 310
<<
So depe was hir wo bigonnen,
And eek hir herte in angre ronnen, 320
A sorowful thing wel semed she.
Nor she hadde no-thing slowe be
For to forcracchen al hir face,
And for to rende in many place
Hir clothes, and for to tere hir swire, 325
As she that was fulfilled of ire;
And al to-torn lay eek hir here
Aboute hir shuldres, here and there,
As she that hadde it al to-rent
For angre and for maltalent. 330
And eek I telle you certeynly
How that she weep ful tenderly.
In world nis wight so hard of herte
That hadde seen hir sorowes smerte,
That nolde have had of hir pitee, 335
So wo-bigoon a thing was she.
She al to-dasshte hir-self for wo,
And smoot togider her handes two.
To sorwe was she ful ententyf,
That woful recchelees caityf; 340
Hir roughte litel of pleying,
Or of clipping or [of] kissing;
For who-so sorweful is in herte
>>
Trop avoit son cuer correcie,
Et son duel parfont commencie.
Moult sembloit bien qu'el fust dolente,
Qu'ele n'avoit mie este lente
D'esgratiner tote sa chiere;
N'ele n'avoit pas sa robe chiere,
Ains l'ot en mains leus desciree
Cum cele qui moult iert iree.
Si cheveul tuit destrecie furent,
Et espandu par son col jurent, 320
Que les avoit trestous desrous
De maltalent et de corrous.
Et sachies bien veritelment
Qu'ele ploroit profondement:
Nus, tant fust durs, ne la veist,
A cui grant pitie n'en preist,
Qu'el se desrompoit et batoit,
Et ses poins ensemble hurtoit.
Moult iert a duel fere ententive
La dolereuse, la chetive; 330
Il ne li tenoit d'envoisier,
Ne d'acoler, ne de baisier:
Car cil qui a le cuer dolent,
<<
Him liste not to pleye ne sterte,
Nor for to daunsen, ne to singe, 345
Ne may his herte in temper bringe
To make Ioye on even or morowe;
For Ioye is contraire unto sorowe.
ELDE was peynted after this, ELDE.
That shorter was a foot, ywis, 350
Than she was wont in her yonghede.
Unnethe hir-self she mighte fede;
So feble and eek so old was she
That faded was al hir beautee.
Ful salowe was waxen hir colour, 355
Hir heed for-hoor was, whyt as flour.
Y-wis, gret qualm ne were it noon,
Ne sinne, although hir lyf were gon.
Al woxen was hir body unwelde,
And drye, and dwyned al for elde. 360
A foul forwelked thing was she
That whylom round and softe had be.
Hir eres shoken fast withalle,
As from her heed they wolde falle.
Hir face frounced and forpyned, 365
And bothe hir hondes lorn, fordwyned.
>>
Sachies de voir, il n'a talent
De dancier, ne de karoler,
Ne nus ne se porroit moller
Qui duel eust, a joie faire,
Car duel et joie sont contraire.
Apres fu VIELLECE portraite, VIEILLESSE.
Qui estoit bien ung pie retraite 340
De tele cum el soloit estre;
A paine se pooit-el pestre,
Tant estoit vielle et radotee.
Bien estoit si biaute gastee,
Et moult ert lede devenue.
Toute sa teste estoit chenue,
Et blanche cum s'el fust florie.
Ce ne fut mie grant morie
S'ele morust, ne grans pechies,
Car tous ses cors estoit sechies 350
De viellece et anoiantis:
Moult estoit ja ses vis fletris,
Qui jadis fut soef et plains;
Mes or est tous de fronces plains,
Les oreilles avoit mossues,
Et trestotes les dents perdues,
Si qu'ele n'en avoit neis une.
Tant par estoit de grant viellune,
<<
So old she was that she ne wente
A foot, but it were by potente.
The TYME, that passeth night and day, TIME.
And restelees travayleth ay, 370
And steleth from us so prively,
That to us seemeth sikerly
That it in oon point dwelleth ever,
And certes, it ne resteth never,
But goth so faste, and passeth ay, 375
That ther nis man that thinke may
What tyme that now present is:
Asketh at these clerkes this;
For [er] men thinke it redily,
Three tymes been y-passed by. 380
The tyme, that may not soiourne,
But goth, and never may retourne,
As water that doun renneth ay,
But never drope retourne may;
Ther may no-thing as tyme endure, 385
Metal, nor erthely creature;
For alle thing it fret and shal:
The tyme eek, that chaungeth al,
And al doth waxe and fostred be,
And alle thing distroyeth he: 390
>>
Qu'el n'alast mie la montance
De quatre toises sans potance. 360
Li tens qui s'en va nuit et jor,
Sans repos prendre et sans sejor,
Et qui de nous se part et emble
Si celeement, qu'il nous semble
Qu'il s'arreste ades en ung point,
Et il ne s'i arreste point,
Ains ne fine de trepasser,
Que nus ne puet neis penser
Quex tens ce est qui est presens;
Sel' demandes as clers lisans, 370
Aincois que l'en l'eust pense,
Seroit-il ja trois tens passe.