Английская поэзия XIV–XX веков в современных русских переводах (билингва)

“With al my mightё, and my beste entente,With al the faith that mighty god of kyndeMe yaf, sith he me soule and knowing sente,I chese, and to this bonde ever I me bynde,To love you best, whyl I have lyf and mynde” —Thus herde I foules in the dawёningeUpon the day of saint Valentyne singe.

“Yet chese I, at the ginning, in this entente,To love you, though I no mercy fynde;And if you liste I dyed, I wolde assente,As ever twinne I quik out of this lynde!Suffyseth me to seen your fetheres ynde” —Thus herde I foules in the morweningeUpon the day of saint Valentyne singe.

“And over this, myn hertes lust to-bente,In honour only of the wodёbynde,Hoolly I yeve, never to repenteIn joye or wo, wher-so that I wyndeTofore Cupyde, with his eyёn blynde” —The foules alle, whan Tytan did springe,With dèvout herte, me thoughte I herde singe!

LenvoyPrincesse of beautee, to you I representeThis simple dytè, rude as in makinge,Of herte and wil faithful in myn entente,Lyk as, this day, foules herde I singe.

Vox Ultima Crucis

Tarye no lenger; toward thyn heritage

Hast on thy weye, and be of ryght good chere.Go eche day onward on thy pylgrymage;Thynke howe short tyme thou hast abyden here.Thy place is bygged above the sterres clere,Noon erthly palys wrought in so statly wyse.Come on, my frend, my brother most entere!For the I offered my blood in sacryfice.

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