Doghter of Myn (first draft)

[Delta40]

Ok I won't write in middle english again (perhaps) I don't find it easy to write about my feelings but I am finding expression atm via this vehicle. I hope you don't mind and ride with me on this (praise be to Chaucer). I have a 17 year old daughter who is troubled. I will work on this as I wrote it this morning.




I thynke she is goon
Her Carl to abyde
Suffreth alwey but oon
Ywis as any bridde

Her beautee bleynte
Affrayed to tak delit
With brosten herte feint
She sets with feyned appetit

This to seye she be yonge

She clepeth his name
And suffer hym to chese
Yet I be to blame
To preche of love doutelees

She is a trewe wyf
I hadde geten to hym
The terme of her lyf
And his ful ymagining

This to seye she be wrecched

Thou are to hym kynde
Doghter, al speke she
Of Housbonde fyne
I prayere God in Magestee

Wher myghte ye alday
In His mercy seek
For me to nat prayere
And thou muchel wreke

This to seye she be saved

Since childhede cladde
No man koude hath her folde
Her soft wynde wrappe
Thy Doghter mayde to beholde

Aboven her honde so wyse
Doghter darkened unto thy ende
For thy hast kept in lies
I ne heeld to amende

This to seye I wepe

[PrinceMyshkin]

I wish I could say I understood this from start to finish, but what I did appreciate is the wonderful strangeness of our language's ancestor and the confident, unforced way you deploy it!

[Delta40]

I am faced with the challenge of conveying a message that the reader can understand

[firefangled]

My heritage is Scotch and Welsh. Could it be we are able to be struck by this language deep in our lymbic area?

If you had written the same in the current form of english it would touch me, but I don't think the same way. The stanza breaks are a wonderful technique.

[Silas Thorne]

I can get most of it, though not all, but the language is beautiful and rich, and yes, the stanza breaks are marvellous. Well done! And you have such a wonderful grasp of language.
I wonder if in the future we'll see one on your poems in a novel you've written about the middle ages.

[Delta40]

Ok, I have made some subtle changes that may give it a better flow. Suffice it to say I have a teenage daughter who is (neigh has) willing to give herself to a boy of ill-repute, despite the heartbreak/grief he has caused her. I think she is too good for him of course! but she is willing to go to the ends of the earth and I fear that I have done little to help her. She feels she can manage.

I thynke she is goon
Her Carl to abyde
Suffreth alwey but oon
Ywis as any bridde

Her beautee bleynte
Affrayed to tak delit
With brosten herte feint
She sets with feyned appetit

This to seye she be yonge

She clepeth his name
And suffer hym to chese
Yet I be to blame
To preche of love doutelees

She is a trewe wyf
I hadde geten to hym
The terme of her lyf
And his ful ymagining

This to seye she be wrecched

Since childhede cladde
No man hath her folde
Koude soft wynde wrappe
Thy Mayde to beholde

Aboven her hede so wyse
Doghter derken unto thy ende
For hym hast kept in lies
I ne heeld to amende

This to seye I wepe

Thou are to hym kynde
Doghter, al speke she
Of Housbonde fyne
I prayere God in Magestee

Wher myghte ye alday
In His mercy seek
For me to nat prayere
And thou muchel wreke

This to seye may she be saved

[Delta40]

My mother is scottish firefangled. I was born in England. She gave me a few skelpins as a child!