Amor, ch'al cor gentile ratto s'apprende
prese costui de la bella persona
che mi fu tolta; e 'l modo ancor m'offende.
Amor, che a nullo amato amar perdona,
Mi prese del costui piacer sì forte,
Che, come vedi, ancor non m'abbandona..."
"Love, which quickly arrests the gentle heart,
Seized him with my beautiful form
That was taken from me, in a manner which still grieves me.
Love, which pardons no beloved from loving,
took me so strongly with delight in him
That, as you see, it still abandons me not...
Tag: love poetry italian italy medieval-literature
...for most men are unaware that what is in the power of magicians to accomplish, that the heart can also accomplish by dint of love and bravery.
Joseph BédierTag: medieval-literature
There is something sinister about putting a leprechaun in a workhouse. The only solid comfort is that he certainly will not work.
G.K. ChestertonTag: humor medieval-literature leprechaun
Little son, I have longed a while to see you, and now I see you the fairest thing ever a woman bore. In sadness came I hither, in sadness did I bring forth, and in sadness has your first feast day gone. And as by sadness you came into the world, your name shall be called Tristan; that is the child of sadness.”
After she had said these words she kissed him, and immediately when she had kissed him she died.
Tag: medieval-literature
Every night, I slip into the empty winter land of memory.
Ned HayesTag: medieval-literature
Qui Deus a duné esciënce
e de parler bone eloquence,
ne s’en deit taisir ne celer,
ainz se deit voluntiers mustrer".
Prologue des Lais.
Tag: medieval-literature
En la forest de Longue Attente
chevauchant par divers sentiers
m'en voys, ceste année présente
où voyage de Desiriers.
Devant sont aller mes fourriers
pour appareiller mon logis
en la Cité de Destinée.
Et pout mon cœur et moy ont pris
l'ostellerie de Pensée.
Dedans mon livre de pensée
j'ay trouvé escripvant mon cœur
la vraie histoire de douleur
de larmes toute enluminée.
In het Woud van Lang Verwachten
te paard op pad, dolenderwijs,
zie ik mijzelf dit jaar bij machte
tot Verlangens' verre reis.
Mijn knechtstoet is vooruitgegaan
om 't nachtverblijf vast te bereiden,
vond in Bestemming's Stad gereed
voor dit mijn hart, en mij ons beiden,
de herberg, die Gedachte heet.
In 't boek van mijn gepeinzen al
vond ik dan, schrijvende, mijn hart;
het waar verhaal van bitt're smart
verlucht met tranen zonder tal.
Charles d'Orléans
Tag: french medieval medieval-literature forest french-poetry medieval-poetry
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