chaucer

The White Heart – Poetry by Darian

I forgot that there was one last post about Ice Dragon to make! Better late than never, right?

My fiance, THL Darian, entered his first ever A&S competition at The Tournament of the White Hart in early March, then took his entry, a poem, to the Ice Dragon Pent a month later. This was the second poem he’d written for me for a White Hart Tournament, and here are two of the three versions he submitted for judging — the modern English and the Chaucerian English version.

Foreword:

This piece is an alliterative poem, following the style of The Pearl Poets Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight, dated in the late 14th century. The two copies of the same poem are in modern English, and translated to Middle English, following the dialect of Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales, a contemporary piece to the Pearl Poet, written in the late 14th century as well.

The Pearl is an example of the alliterative verse revival known as the Alliterative Revival. The movement emerged in England in the mid-14th century, continuing through the 15th century. The typical characteristics of Alliterative style syllabic count, coupled with alliterative stresses. Each line would contain a separative pause, known as a caesurea, in essence splitting the line in two. The Pearl poet differentiated from some of these norms in that he allowed variable lengths to lines and groups, as well as including an end point on each stanza, known as a bob and wheel. This tradition would start with a short line, followed by a rhymed section.

Included with these works is an extra example highlighting the stresses and caesuras to better allow reading, for as many who have studied Middle English poetry will agree, it often seems meant to be read aloud.

 

The White Heart – Modern English
by THL Darian ValskiOh host please hear of humbleness true

Before thee Brought my brilliant joy

A Lord willed low by lovely might

To show thee shine I should employ

Like Paris saw Pale his paired soul

In Helens grip held the great heart fast

Come forth in form as forged in Troy

Astrid

May thee look to me,

For sadness be rid

Our hearts too, free

Look to here, I bid.

If would such words but Worthy plan

To grace the gift for my tongues relief

I should tell long tales of truest beauty

When should eyes be shift but by shy glory

I draw of her dreams as driven before

Her passion has paced the purest of chase

To home made her heart of my holy soul

The White Hart

Which Gawans hounds bayed

His travails would thwart

My hand though stayed

Wise by her Heart

As Pellinore would prove of aids plea true

Her voice made vital in verity sound

I learn fair lore from love to know

My flaw made fierce by mind fault free

To honor we hold as holy should be

Family by fortune did freely make she

For all good I gain her givith to me

I am here

And weak as a fool

Would cry voiced sheer

Upon the fates spool

Show her Glory clear

The White Heart – Middle English
by THL Darian ValskiOh host plees here of humblesse true

Bifore thee brought my Brighte joye

A Lord willed lowe by lovely might

To showe the shyne I should imploye

As Paris sawe pale his paired soule

In Helenes grip held the grate hart faste

Come forth in forme as forged in Troye

Astrid

May thee look to me

For sadnesse be rid

Our hart to free

Look here, I bid

If wold such words but worthy plan

To grace the gifte for my tonges relief

I sholde telle longe tales of truest beautee

When sholde tell eye shifte but by shy glory

I drawe of hir dreems as driven before

Hir passion has paced the purest of chase

To home made hir hart of my holy soule

The White Hart

Which Gawain houndes bayed

His travails wold thwart

My hand though stayed

Wyse by hir hart

As Pellinore wold prov of aids plee true

Hir vois made vital in verity sounde

I lern fair lore from love to know

My flaw made fiers by mind falt free

To honour we hold as holy shoulde be

Family by fortune dide freely make she

For alle good I gain she gaveth to me

I am here

And weke as a fool

Wold cry voised shere

Upon fates spool

She her glorie clere

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