Chaucer's (assumed) death-day

[tree_and_leaf]

angevin2 suggests that we post poetry in his honour. So I shall. This is from the end of Troilus and Cressyde. You can tell that it's a tragedy written by a Christian if it ends up with the (dead) protagonist laughing...\

And whan that he was slayn in this manere,
His lighte goost ful blisfully is went
Up to the holownesse of the seventh spere,
In convers letinge every element;
And ther he saugh, with ful avysement,
The erratik sterres, herkeninge armonye
With sownes fulle of hevenish melodye.

And doun from thennes faste he gan avyse
This litel spot of erthe, that with the see
Embraced is, and fully gan despyse
This wrecched world, and held al vanitee
To respect of the pleyn felicitee
That is in hevene above; and at the laste,
Ther he was slayn, his loking doun he caste;

And in him-self he lough right at the wo
Of hem that wepten for his deeth so faste;
And dampned al our werk that folweth so
The blinde lust, the which that may not laste,
And sholden al our herte on hevene caste.
And forth he wente, shortly for to telle,
Ther as Mercurie sorted him to dwelle. --

Comments

[sammee42.livejournal.com]

Happy Birthday, Chaucer! Thanks for your humour. :)

[sammee42.livejournal.com]

ERM, I mean Happy Death Day and RIP. Sorry; very tired atm!