For this project, I translated this passage into Old English, Middle English imitating Chaucer one in a Shakespearian spirit and one in a moron’s spirit. -- Sam Dionne Several days ago, my beloved wife of 15 years left me due to her cheating ways and I’ll tell you straightforwardly, I can not believe it. We met while on a hike. We talked for a while about the chilly weather and then hiked together. It was a beautiful afternoon.
And ever since then, I’ve hated mountains.
One insane woman had to get involved in my life and send me into a downward spiral of alcoholism and depression and drug abuse. Seven years later, we wed and fought viciously in the hotel about who gets the sole room key. It could have fallen apart a hundred times, every single day.
In all honesty, she disgusts me. She eats sushi with Worcestershire Sauce and bathes three times a day. She steals all of my beer and I confront her about it and she coos me into submission. No more! I looked at her cellphone text messages last week and found a rather ghastly correspondence that has sent me over the edge. Thank God for saving me from any more despair.
So now I sit at the office playing shooter games on the computer, then I do my work at home to keep me occupied, because I want to die. I must stay busy with useless tasks and mind-numbing activities to stave off the violence.
Chaucerian Spirit O these woeful days. Naught but three days past,
my wyf of years hast cheated her last.
Straightcometh I say, I cannot believe
She had been off and asking to leave.
If that when we walke, up heigh on the mound
Twas nary a gentle note voiced in the sound
That bodeth to future days speaketh good fates
We ghouls desiren awfulest mates.
She long been assaileth me, keeping me chepe
What eyleth me now I see is my keep
We could hev split, and thanne we wod know
Her lavours of person, in sickness she go.
To steal my beer’s grave illness to me
Of women yblessed moot she not be
Wyf, go wher thee liste, Taak youre disport,
She wol nat dwelle in house a single day forth.
Old English Feower þrio dagashæfde, æþeling bryd to me fyftynera læf side sibbene,ac ic forsceal, ic hit sare. ic ðæt mæl geman we niosað, on fyrgenholt. Wit cwæð gecwædon sy wedera cealdostc, þanon giong. ðæt wæs ond sceaw dogra.
Us wæs a syððan, ic hatod fyrgenholts.
Et wæs geomuru ides on helle drihten linnan ond eowic me to weal bregdan to beore ond sarlic ond meselfes hrusan. Syfonera æfter wit cwæð, wit æste geworhte ond wit ðam wange on husa þæt he heoguide. Wræc meahtan gefetan oþer ahund mæla, ǽghwilc he dogore.
Anfaldlíce, sy ádlig. Sy ellenrof gódléas ond sy áwascans þrio tíma adagore. Sy ætniman beore ond ic nebbian on sy loccia innan álote. Astyntan! Ic lóca cranica ond infindan ymbsprǽc yfele. Hit þe worna fela. Gode ic þanc secge þæs sy scacen.
Nú ic ymbsittan ond plegan ac ic nyllan nága min geþanc.
Shakespearian Spirit Functionario: Rosicrucio! Old, dear friend, well met!
Rosicrucio: O! for days my heart hath bled.
For fifteen years my loyal wife she'd been.
Another man hath shorn my love from me.
From the forest I once took delight;
Woodland eaves are now a dreadful sight.
Woman-tired was I, but enamored still—
Her love, this drink, that drink, this pill—
A thousand times each day the gods I begged
For mercy, for disaster, for another wooden leg,
For mine she would hide when drenched in drink!
Functionario: O! a lamentable fate, I must think.
Rosicrucio: A foul sight to me has she become,
Too often hath my ales wet her tongue.
Experience may make the best of men,
But Worcestershire wasabi was my end.
My desk is cold, but the cold I prefer—
False weapons hath more life and fire than her.
Into idleness must I now retreat,
Lest real weapons offer me release.
Moron’s Spirit It was maybe a long time ago that I went on walk up in Maine on a mountain hike and had a good time. I met a woman fifteen years ago there and she talked together and walked along the hill and we spoke with to each other about weather. It was a nice time but I hate mountains.
I like computer games at work because work is boring and I get hungry too often so I pretend to kill things.
That woman left home last week because she cheats. I wonder if she steals my beer and steals my food and lies to everyone. It’s not so terribly awful.
My wife left me cause of fighting and things. It happens a lot.
