Medieval Poetry: When the Nightingale Sings
Very little is known of When the Nightingale Sings other than that it dates back to roughly 1310. It is a love poem lamenting lost love. The observant reader might recognize this as the poem to which Angus listens, which leads him to one of his realizations, in The Water is Wide. In fact, it was no doubt this very video he was watching.
Given the dates, it's possible Niall himself was familiar with this poe
Harley MS. c. 1310.
When the nyhtegale singes,
The wodes waxen grene, Lef ant gras ant blosme springes In Averyl, Y wene ; Ant love is to myn herte gon With one spere so kene, Nyht ant day my blod hit drynkes Myn herte deth me tene. Ich have loved al this yer That Y may love na more; Ich have siked moni syk, Lemmon, for thin ore, Me nis love neuer the ner, Ant that me reweth sore; Suete lemmon, thench on me, Ich have loved the yore. Suete lemmon, Y preye thee, Of love one speche; Whil Y lyve in world so wyde Other nulle Y seche. With thy love, my suete leof, My blis thou mihtes eche; A suete cos of thy mouth Mihte be my leche. Suete lemmon, Y preye thee Of a love-bene: Yef thou me lovest, ase men says, Lemmon, as I wene, Ant yef hit thi wille be, Thou loke that hit be sene; So muchel Y thenke vpon the That al y waxe grene. Bituene Lyncolne ant Lyndeseye, Norhamptoun ant Lounde, Ne wot I non so fayr a may, As y go fore ybounde. Suete lemmon, Y preye the Thou lovie me a stounde; Y wole mone my song On wham that hit ys on ylong.
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And here is part of the poem in even more original English:
When Ć¾e nyhtegale singes Ć¾e wodes waxen grene.
Lef ant gras ant blosme springes in aueryl y wene,
Ant love is to myn herte gon wiĆ¾ one spere so kene
Nyht ant day my blod hit drynkes myn herte deĆ¾ me tene.
Lef ant gras ant blosme springes in aueryl y wene,
Ant love is to myn herte gon wiĆ¾ one spere so kene
Nyht ant day my blod hit drynkes myn herte deĆ¾ me tene.
Ich have loved al Ć¾is er Ć¾at y may love namore,
Ich have siked moni syk lemmon for Ć¾in ore.
Me nis love never Ć¾e ner ant Ć¾at me reweĆ¾ sore.
Suete lemmon Ć¾ench on meāich have loved Ć¾e ore.
Ich have siked moni syk lemmon for Ć¾in ore.
Me nis love never Ć¾e ner ant Ć¾at me reweĆ¾ sore.
Suete lemmon Ć¾ench on meāich have loved Ć¾e ore.
Suete lemmon y preye Ć¾e of love one speche,
Whil y lyve in world so wyde oĆ¾er nulle y seche.
WiĆ¾ Ć¾y love my suete leof mi blis Ć¾ou mihtes eche,
A suete cos of Ć¾y mouĆ¾ mihte be my leche.
Whil y lyve in world so wyde oĆ¾er nulle y seche.
WiĆ¾ Ć¾y love my suete leof mi blis Ć¾ou mihtes eche,
A suete cos of Ć¾y mouĆ¾ mihte be my leche.
Suete lemmon y preČe Ć¾e of a love bene
Čef Ć¾ou me lovest ase men says lemmon as y wene,
Ant Čef hit Ć¾i wille be Ć¾ou loke Ć¾at hit be sene,
So muchel y Ć¾enke upon Ć¾e Ć¾at al y waxe grene.
Čef Ć¾ou me lovest ase men says lemmon as y wene,
Ant Čef hit Ć¾i wille be Ć¾ou loke Ć¾at hit be sene,
So muchel y Ć¾enke upon Ć¾e Ć¾at al y waxe grene.
Bituene Lyncolne ant Lyndeseye, Norhamptoun ant Lounde,
Ne wot y non so fayr a may as y go fore ybounde.
Suete lemmon ypreČe Ć¾e Ć¾ou lovie me a stounde!
Y wole mone my song
On wham Ć¾at hit ys on ylong.
Ne wot y non so fayr a may as y go fore ybounde.
Suete lemmon ypreČe Ć¾e Ć¾ou lovie me a stounde!
Y wole mone my song
On wham Ć¾at hit ys on ylong.
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