In one sentence, I'd describe myself as indescribable. But, I wouldn't end it with a period. I'd end it with three dots.
quote by Jason Schwartzman
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
See The Constellation
I lay my head on the railroad track
Stare at the sky all painted up
Your train is gone, wont be coming back
See the constellation ride across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Two years ago moved from my town
I was looking up past the city lights
But the city lights got in my way
See the constellation ride across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
I found my mind on the ground below
I was looking down, it was looking back
I was in the sky all dressed in black
See the constellation ride across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Can you hear what I see in the sky?
Can you hear what I see in the sky?
Can you hear what I see in the sky?
Notes
The dial-a-song version:
I lay my head on the railroad track
Look at the sky all dressed in black
Your train is gone, wont be coming back
My lone constellation rides across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made from dots and lines
Just a guy made from dots and lines
The city lights think nothings there
No real stars, nothings there
My lone constellation rides across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made from dots and lines
Just a guy made from dots and lines
song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bad Writing
the sentence & the paragraph had agreed upon meeting at dawn
out in the middle of the page
as the reflection off the fine silver pen being lifted by the human hand in the sky
shone off the bright white recycled paper
there stood one strong paragraph,
which
was armed with clever words, quirky verbs & quiet frankly,
a whole slew of other sentences
who may or may not be brought into the fray
with this
vigilante,
who stood a good distance away from the paragraph
with its shadow blotting out part of the page-
the sentence was tight
knit
&
written in a language that the paragraph had never heard of
before-
the paragraph tilted it’s font a bit, to stave off the human shifting the paper,
causing a bit of a breeze across the soft plane,
but the sentence hadn’t come here today
to waste its time flashing its
fashion sense, and in
standard
new times roman,
it spoke out in italics
“we gonna do this or not? ”
& the paragraph,
without a moment’s hesitation,
nodded, saying, in some bold n’ fancy variation of
book antiqua,
“i been ready since i saw the punctuation at the end of your
babbling jumble of foreign words”-
at that point,
the title of the page & the
header
walked in tandem to the place in between both the paragraph
and the sentence-
now equidistant apart from both,
they talked of what had brought both these forms of writing
to the page
this brisk & early morning in
june-
to make a story short,
the foreign language sentence & the
english (current language of commerce) paragraph
had come to this duel over a
beautiful
metaphor-
and while both the title & the header could understand,
[...] Read more
poem by Andrew Delapruch
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Love Is A Crime
Oooh Yeah
Chicago
If love is a crime baby
I'd do my time
Whether it's wrong or right
You can sentence me to life
If love is a crime baby
I'd do my time
Whether it's wrong or right
You can sentence me
Sentence me to life
Some might say I'm guilty of loving the first degree
If the jury wants to lock me up and throw away the key
There's no greater punishment than what I face inside
Won't tamper with the evidence cause there's nothing to hide
(He lives inside my heart)
(I'm in the middle too)
I'm in the middle too
(You never had a clue)
Unless you felt it too
(If love is a crime) baby
I'd do my time
(Whether it's wrong or right)
(You can) sentence me
Sentence me to life
(If love is a crime) baby
I'd do my time
(Whether it's wrong or right)
You can sentence me
Sentence me to life
Better tell the truth, just let me plead my case
The thief who stole my heart from me I couldn't let escape
He's my only alibi, but I won't drop a dime
So how can I give up to you, my partner in crime
(He lives inside) my heart
(I'm in the middle too)
Ooh yeah yeah
(You never had a clue)
Unless you felt it too
(If love is a crime) baby
I'd do my time
Whether it's wrong or right
You can sentence me
Sentence me to life
(If love is a crime) baby
I'd do my time
Whether it's wrong or right
You can sentence me
(Sentence me to life)
You can take away my freedom
[...] Read more
song performed by Anastacia
Added by Lucian Velea
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Everything is connected
Asked to describe life
I said: ' the peaceful moments
with the friends you meet.'
Asked to describe friends
I said: ' the people you love
and care for daily.'
Asked to describe love
I said: ' feelings of goodwill
you have until death.'
Asked to describe death
I said: ' The equaliser
joy becomes nothing.'
Asked to describe joy
I said: ' opposite of sad
the happy feelings.'
Asked to describe sad
I said: ' opposite of joy
feelings of great loss.'
Asked to describe loss
I said: ' it occurs in life
regardless of us.'
Asked to describe life
I said: ' the peaceful moments
with the friends you meet.'
Everything is connected.
poem by Krantol Northic
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Tiny Words
Who am I?
What I am?
..dont really know..
Today right now
I think I feel to be
nothingness or
just a minuscule
dot
Almost invisible
in these immensities
can't see myself..
cannot find me..
but hey! ! guess what? !
other minuscule dot I hope
is out there thousand and
thousand miles away
this dot, it seems to me,
does
think and wonders.
of my minuscule heart
my thought my doing
Woww! Awww..
Isn't that amasing? !
here I am!
no more lost
These dots:
are never meant to see
or touch..
each are soo far away..
too far
still
soo close.. sometimes
they stretch a rope
from one to other
become more close
..by closing eyes..
dreaming of
touch smell taste
such a new feel
new spinning dance
new colours
amasingly the world around
transforms
everything
becomes soo small
reduced to dots
and so
two, three, millions dots
tinny, little.. quietly
[...] Read more
poem by Elena Sandu
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Paradise Lost: Book 10
Mean while the heinous and despiteful act
Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how
He, in the serpent, had perverted Eve,
Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit,
Was known in Heaven; for what can 'scape the eye
Of God all-seeing, or deceive his heart
Omniscient? who, in all things wise and just,
Hindered not Satan to attempt the mind
Of Man, with strength entire and free will armed,
Complete to have discovered and repulsed
Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend.
For still they knew, and ought to have still remembered,
The high injunction, not to taste that fruit,
Whoever tempted; which they not obeying,
(Incurred what could they less?) the penalty;
And, manifold in sin, deserved to fall.
Up into Heaven from Paradise in haste
The angelick guards ascended, mute, and sad,
For Man; for of his state by this they knew,
Much wondering how the subtle Fiend had stolen
Entrance unseen. Soon as the unwelcome news
From Earth arrived at Heaven-gate, displeased
All were who heard; dim sadness did not spare
That time celestial visages, yet, mixed
With pity, violated not their bliss.
About the new-arrived, in multitudes
The ethereal people ran, to hear and know
How all befel: They towards the throne supreme,
Accountable, made haste, to make appear,
With righteous plea, their utmost vigilance
And easily approved; when the Most High
Eternal Father, from his secret cloud,
Amidst in thunder uttered thus his voice.
Assembled Angels, and ye Powers returned
From unsuccessful charge; be not dismayed,
Nor troubled at these tidings from the earth,
Which your sincerest care could not prevent;
Foretold so lately what would come to pass,
When first this tempter crossed the gulf from Hell.
I told ye then he should prevail, and speed
On his bad errand; Man should be seduced,
And flattered out of all, believing lies
Against his Maker; no decree of mine
Concurring to necessitate his fall,
Or touch with lightest moment of impulse
His free will, to her own inclining left
In even scale. But fallen he is; and now
What rests, but that the mortal sentence pass
On his transgression,--death denounced that day?
Which he presumes already vain and void,
[...] Read more
poem by John Milton
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The Example of Vertu : Cantos I.-VII.
Here begynneth the boke called the example of vertu.
The prologe.
Whan I aduert in my remembraunce
The famous draughtes of poetes eloquent
Whiche theyr myndes dyd well enhaunce
Bokes to contryue that were expedyent
To be remembred without Impedyment
For the profyte of humanyte
This was the custume of antyquyte.
I now symple and moost rude
And naked in depured eloquence
For dulnes rethoryke doth exclude
Wherfore in makynge I lake intellygence
Also consyderynge my grete neglygence
It fereth me sore for to endyte
But at auenture I wyll now wryte.
As very blynde in the poetys art
For I therof can no thynge skyll
Wherfore I lay it all a part
But somwhat accordynge to my wyll
I wyll now wryte for to fulfyll
Saynt Powles wordes and true sentement
All that is wryten is to oure document
O prudent Gower in langage pure
Without corrupcyon moost facundyous
O noble Chauser euer moost sure
Of frutfull sentence ryght delycyous
O vertuous Lydgat moche sentencyous
Unto you all I do me excuse
Though I your connynge do now vse
Explicit prologus.
Capitulum Primsi.
In Septembre in fallynge of the lefe
Whan phebus made his declynacyon
And all the whete gadred was in the shefe
By radyaunt hete and operacyon
Whan the vyrgyn had full domynacyon
And Dyane entred was one degre
Into the sygne of Gemyne
Whan the golden sterres clere were splendent
In the firmament puryfyed clere as crystall
By imperyall course without incombrement
As Iuppyter and Mars that be celestyall
With Saturne and Mercury that wer supernall
Myxt with venus that was not retrograte
That caused me to be well fortunate
In a slombrynge slepe with slouth opprest
[...] Read more
poem by Stephen Hawes
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The Course Of Time. Book X.
God of my fathers! holy, just, and good!
My God! my Father! my unfailing Hope!
Jehovah! let the incense of my praise,
Accepted, burn before thy mercy seat,
And in thy presence burn both day and night.
Maker! Preserver! my Redeemer! God!
Whom have I in the heavens but Thee alone?
On earth, but Thee, whom should I praise, whom love?
For Thou hast brought me hitherto, upheld
By thy omnipotence; and from thy grace,
Unbought, unmerited, though not unsought—
The wells of thy salvation, hast refreshed
My spirit, watering it, at morn and even!
And by thy Spirit, which thou freely givest
To whom thou wilt, hast led my venturous song,
Over the vale, and mountain tract, the light
And shade of man; into the burning deep
Descending now, and now circling the mount,
Where highest sits Divinity enthroned;
Rolling along the tide of fluent thought,
The tide of moral, natural, divine;
Gazing on past, and present, and again,
On rapid pinion borne, outstripping Time,
In long excursion, wandering through the groves
Unfading, and the endless avenues,
That shade the landscape of eternity;
And talking there with holy angels met,
And future men, in glorious vision seen!
Nor unrewarded have I watched at night,
And heard the drowsy sound of neighbouring sleep;
New thought, new imagery, new scenes of bliss
And glory, unrehearsed by mortal tongue,
Which, unrevealed, I trembling, turned and left,
Bursting at once upon my ravished eye,
With joy unspeakable, have filled my soul,
And made my cup run over with delight;
Though in my face, the blasts of adverse winds,
While boldly circumnavigating man,
Winds seeming adverse, though perhaps not so,
Have beat severely; disregarded beat,
When I behind me heard the voice of God,
And his propitious Spirit say,—Fear not.
God of my fathers! ever present God!
This offering more inspire, sustain, accept;
Highest, if numbers answer to the theme;
Best answering if thy Spirit dictate most.
Jehovah! breathe upon my soul; my heart
Enlarge; my faith increase; increase my hope;
My thoughts exalt; my fancy sanctify,
And all my passions, that I near thy throne
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Pollok
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XII. The Book and the Ring
Here were the end, had anything an end:
Thus, lit and launched, up and up roared and soared
A rocket, till the key o' the vault was reached,
And wide heaven held, a breathless minute-space,
In brilliant usurpature: thus caught spark,
Rushed to the height, and hung at full of fame
Over men's upturned faces, ghastly thence,
Our glaring Guido: now decline must be.
In its explosion, you have seen his act,
By my power—may-be, judged it by your own,—
Or composite as good orbs prove, or crammed
With worse ingredients than the Wormwood Star.
The act, over and ended, falls and fades:
What was once seen, grows what is now described,
Then talked of, told about, a tinge the less
In every fresh transmission; till it melts,
Trickles in silent orange or wan grey
Across our memory, dies and leaves all dark,
And presently we find the stars again.
Follow the main streaks, meditate the mode
Of brightness, how it hastes to blend with black!
After that February Twenty-Two,
Since our salvation, Sixteen-Ninety-Eight,
Of all reports that were, or may have been,
Concerning those the day killed or let live,
Four I count only. Take the first that comes.
A letter from a stranger, man of rank,
Venetian visitor at Rome,—who knows,
On what pretence of busy idleness?
Thus he begins on evening of that day.
"Here are we at our end of Carnival;
"Prodigious gaiety and monstrous mirth,
"And constant shift of entertaining show:
"With influx, from each quarter of the globe,
"Of strangers nowise wishful to be last
"I' the struggle for a good place presently
"When that befalls fate cannot long defer.
"The old Pope totters on the verge o' the grave:
"You see, Malpichi understood far more
"Than Tozzi how to treat the ailments: age,
"No question, renders these inveterate.
"Cardinal Spada, actual Minister,
"Is possible Pope; I wager on his head,
"Since those four entertainments of his niece
"Which set all Rome a-stare: Pope probably—
"Though Colloredo has his backers too,
"And San Cesario makes one doubt at times:
"Altieri will be Chamberlain at most.
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Polka Dots And Moon Beams
(BurkeVan Heusen)
A country dance was being held in a garden. I felt a bump and heard an "Oh, beg you pardon."
Suddenly I saw polka dots and moonbeams all around a pug-nosed dream.
The music started and was I the perplexed one.
I held my breath and said "May I have the next one?"
In my frightened arms, polka dots and moonbeams sparkled on a pug-nosed dream.
There were questions in the eyes of other dancers as we floated over the floor.
There were questions but my heart knew all the answers and perhaps a few things more.
Now in a cottage made of lilacs and laughter, I know the meaning of the words "ever after."
And I'll always see polka dots and moonbeams when I kiss my pug-nosed dream.
There were questions in the eyes of other dancers as we floated over the floor.
There were questions but my heart knew all the answers and perhaps a few things more.
Now in a cottage made of lilacs and laughter, I know the meaning of the words "ever after."
And I'll always see polka dots and moonbeams when I kiss my pug-nosed dream,
when I kiss my pug-nosed dream.
song performed by John Denver
Added by Lucian Velea
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The garden in the hillocks (Tartoum)
Against the rocky slope lies the old white house,
there are roses, lilies and irises that are flowering
between blocks of rock stacked together.
There are roses, lilies and irises that are flowering,
succulents, aloes, torch lilies grow
like tongues of flaming exuberance.
Succulents, aloes, torch lilies grows
as red dots against the rocks that are flaming
as if nature is singing about God’s creation.
As red dots against the rocks that are flaming,
as God’s own lovely garden
proteas, wild wormwood and every wild flower blooms.
As God’s own lovely garden,
as dots full of gleaming fire allows flower
while doves, finches and bush shrikes sing with joy.
As dots full of gleaming fire allows flower
between blocks of rock stacked together
like tongues of flaming exuberance,
as if nature is singing about God’s creation
proteas, wild wormwood and every wild flower blooms
while doves, finches and bush shrikes sing with joy.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Women's Greatest Assets
Voluptuous, round, soft, and plump,
Breasts- the ultimate source of pleasure
For babies and for men, alike.
Babies, burying their heads in their mama’s bosoms,
Say bye bye to dangers, say bye bye to insecurities,
They wrap their plump lips around the little pink dots.
And voilà, they suck!
Sfuuuuuuuup~ sfuuuuuuup~
Slurrrrrrrrrrp~ slurrrrrrrrrp~
Hunger, desire, yearning,
Lust (in its most primitive form) ,
Overwhelm these babies, as they suck fervently
On the little pink dots of their mama.
Men, placing their hands on their women’s bosoms,
Say bye bye to self-discipline, say bye bye to dignity,
They circle their fingers around the little pink dots.
And voilà, they caress!
Shhhhhhhhhh~ chhhhhhhhh~
Shhhhhhhhhh~ chhhhhhhhh~
Hunger, desire, yearning,
Lust (in its most mature form) ,
Overwhelm these men, as they caress passionately
Around the little pink dots of their women.
Voluptuous, round, soft, and plump,
Breasts- the ultimate source of pleasure
For babies and for men, alike.
poem by Irene Pang
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The Canterbury Tales; The Phisiciens Tale
Heere folweth the Phisiciens tale.
Ther was, as telleth Titus Livius,
A knyght that called was Virginius,
Fulfild of honour and of worthynesse,
And strong of freendes, and of greet richesse.
This knyght a doghter hadde by his wyf,
No children hadde he mo in al his lyf.
Fair was this mayde in excellent beautee
Aboven every wight that man may see.
For Nature hath with sovereyn diligence
Yformed hir in so greet excellence,
As though she wolde seyn, 'Lo, I, Nature,
Thus kan I forme and peynte a creature
Whan that me list; who kan me countrefete?
Pigmalion noght, though he ay forge and bete,
Or grave, or peynte, for I dar wel seyn
Apelles, Zanzis sholde werche in veyn
Outher to grave or peynte, or forge, or bete,
If they presumed me to countrefete.
For He that is the former principal
Hath maked me his vicaire general
To forme and peynten erthely creaturis
Right as me list, and ech thyng in my cure is
Under the Moone, that may wane and waxe,
And for my werk right nothyng wol I axe.
My lord and I been ful of oon accord;
I made hir to the worship of my lord,
So do I alle myne othere creatures,
What colour that they han, or what figures.'
Thus semeth me that Nature wolde seye.
This mayde of age twelf yeer was and tweye,
Is which that Nature hadde swich delit.
For right as she kan peynte a lilie whit,
And reed a rose, right with swich peynture
She peynted hath this noble creature,
Er she were born, upon hir lymes fre,
Where as by right swiche colours sholde be.
And Phebus dyed hath hir treses grete,
Lyk to the stremes of his burned heete;
And if that excellent was hir beautee,
A thousand foold moore vertuous was she.
[...] Read more
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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I Am Writing A Poem That You Can Understand So Easily
this is not to insult your intelligence
or your sensibility
your capacity for managing angst,
to see the wholeness
of the matter
in the eye of the needle
where the camel enters where you claim you have seen it,
this, this is it, the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the river the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the river
do you not find wisdom in it, it is filled with questions to be answered:
why is the fox quick
why is it brown? why does it jump on a lazy dog? and is the dog really lazy? is this not offensive to the dogs in the royalty? and why should the river be near? and this bank of the river? is this where the dog lives? or the fox or the dog, do they relate to the word quick and lazy?
i tell you, there is wisdom in every word, no matter where you place it.
every verb serves its purpose in giving us action,
every question calls for an answer
and every period serves the purpose it is intended to be.
rest.
the purpose of an easy poem is to understand it, and so the poem is written in the most familiar language that you know and speak,
period.
i don't want to understand things really, there is no point there.
period.
some poems are not meant to be understood, they are only meant to be read.
period.
some poems are not meant to be digested, they are meant to make
us full, even only for a while.
period.
some poems are written by Someone Else, and this writer does not
even understand it.
period.
rest.......
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Blu Is A Mood
State of mind
Color
Way beyond
Yonder
Deeper
Paradise
All describe
All describe
Blu is a mood
When you're feelin' kinda melancholy
And ya get somethin' never thought about
Outta nowhere
Once in a while there's a special moon
And a clear sky colored pale azure
They all have something in common
And it's blu
State of mind
Color
Way beyond
Yonder
Deeper
Paradise
All describe
All describe
Blu is a mood
So bright it can be electric
Or indigo
Cobalt
Powder
Or Paris
Have it any way you like
Stones of metamorphic sapphirine
>From the heavens down to the deepest sea
It's in every part of your life
Do you feel it
State of mind
Color
Way beyond
Yonder
Deeper
Paradise
All describe
All describe
Blu is a mood
Blu's not just a primary color
[...] Read more
song performed by Blu Cantrell from So Blu
Added by Lucian Velea
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She Bangs The Drums
I can feel the earth begin to move
I hear my needle hit the groove
And spiral through another day
I hear my song begin to say
Kiss me where the sun don't shine
The past was yours
But the future's mine
You're all out of time
I don't feel too steady on my feet
I feel hollow I feel weak
Passion fruit and holy bread
Fill my guts and ease my head
Through the early morning sun
I can see her here she comes
She bangs the drums
Have you seen her have you heard
The way she plays there are no words
To describe the way I feel
How could it ever come to pass
She'll be the first she'll be the last
To describe the way I feel
The way I feel
Have you seen her have you heard
The way she plays there are no words
To describe the way I feel
How could it ever come to pass
She'll be the first she'll be the last
To describe the way I feel
The way I feel
Have you seen her have you heard
The way she plays there are no words
To describe the way I feel
How could it ever come to pass
She'll be the first she'll be the last
To describe the way I feel
The way I feel
song performed by The Stone Roses from The Stone Roses
Added by Lucian Velea
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She Bangs The Drum
I can feel the earth begin to move
I hear my needle hit the groove
And spiral through another day
I hear my song begin to say
Kiss me where the sun don't shine
The past was yours
But the future's mine
You're all out of time
I don't feel too steady on my feet
I feel hollow I feel weak
Passion fruit and holy bread
Fill my guts and ease my head
Through the early morning sun
I can see her here she comes
She bangs the drums
Have you seen her have you heard
The way she plays there are no words
To describe the way I feel
How could it ever come to pass
She'll be the first she'll be the last
To describe the way I feel
The way I feel
Have you seen her have you heard
The way she plays there are no words
To describe the way I feel
How could it ever come to pass
She'll be the first she'll be the last
To describe the way I feel
The way I feel
Have you seen her have you heard
The way she plays there are no words
To describe the way I feel
How could it ever come to pass
She'll be the first she'll be the last
To describe the way I feel
The way I feel
song performed by Stone Roses
Added by Lucian Velea
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She Bangs The Drums
I can feel the earth begin to move
I hear my needle hit the groove
And spiral through another day
I hear my song begin to say
Kiss me where the sun dont shine
The past was yours
But the futures mine
Youre all out of time
I dont feel too steady on my feet
I feel hollow I feel weak
Passion fruit and holy bread
Fill my guts and ease my head
Through the early morning sun
I can see her here she comes
She bangs the drums
Have you seen her have you heard
The way she plays there are no words
To describe the way I feel
How could it ever come to pass
Shell be the first shell be the last
To describe the way I feel
The way I feel
Have you seen her have you heard
The way she plays there are no words
To describe the way I feel
How could it ever come to pass
Shell be the first shell be the last
To describe the way I feel
The way I feel
Have you seen her have you heard
The way she plays there are no words
To describe the way I feel
How could it ever come to pass
Shell be the first shell be the last
To describe the way I feel
The way I feel
song performed by Stone Roses
Added by Lucian Velea
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Indescribable
I look at the stars, amazed
Amazed that something so beautiful, so big, so indescribable could exist
Exist and be so perfect and flawless,
It gives me faith,
Faith that maybe just maybe there really is something bigger to look forward to
Faith that maybe life has a deeper meaning,
That I have meaning,
I get carried away on these wings of faith,
Unable to explain the feeling of love I am consumed with,
My heart leaps at these visions of peace and serenity,
Unable to stay grounded by reality,
I realize,
Realize that there are little treasures all around us,
Pieces of hope and love,
Just open your eyes and see them,
Stop looking and see what is right in front of you,
Open your eyes and see that you are a treasure,
We are all treasures,
Each one of us like a star in the sky,
Unique and individual,
Together we make a masterpiece
Something so beautiful, so big, so indescribable
Beautiful in our imperfection,
Each a little piece of the bigger picture
We are indescribable, beautiful, and perfect.
poem by Alice Berndt
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The Canterbury Tales; Chaucer's Tale of Sir Thopas
PROLOGUE TO CHAUCER'S TALE OF SIR THOPAS
Bihoold the murye wordes of the Hoost to Chaucer.
Whan seyd was al this miracle, every man
As sobre was, that wonder was to se,
Til that oure Hooste japen tho bigan,
And thanne at erst he looked upon me,
And seyde thus, 'What man artow,' quod he,
'Thow lookest as thou woldest fynde an hare,
For ever upon the ground I se thee stare.
Approche neer, and looke up murily;
Now war yow, sires, and lat this man have place.
He in the waast is shape as wel as I;
This were a popet in an arm tenbrace
For any womman smal, and fair of face.
He semeth elvyssh by his contenaunce,
For unto no wight dooth he daliaunce.
Sey now somwhat, syn oother folk han sayd,
Telle us a tale of myrthe, and that anon.'
'Hooste,' quod I, 'ne beth nat yvele apayed,
For oother tale certes kan I noon
But of a ryme I lerned longe agoon.'
'Ye, that is good,' quod he, 'now shul we heere
Som deyntee thyng, me thynketh by his cheere.'
Part 11
SIR THOPAS
Heere bigynneth Chaucers tale of Thopas.
Listeth, lordes, in good entent,
And I wol telle verrayment
Of myrthe and of solas,
Al of a knyght was fair and gent
In bataille and in tourneyment,
His name was Sir Thopas.
Yborn he was in fer contree,
In Flaundres, al biyonde the see,
At Poperyng in the place;
His fader was a man ful free,
And lord he was of that contree,
As it was Goddes grace.
Sir Thopas wax a doghty swayn,
Whit was his face as payndemayn,
Hise lippes rede as rose;
[...] Read more
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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