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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 15

Ac after my wakynge it was wonder longe
Er I koude kyndely knowe what was Dowel.
And so my wit weex and wanyed til I a fool weere;
And some lakked my lif - allowed it fewe -
And leten me for a lorel and looth to reverencen
Lordes or ladies or any lif ellis -
As persons in pelure with pendaunts of silver;
To sergeaunts ne to swiche seide noght ones,
' God loke yow, lordes!' - ne loutede faire,
That folk helden me a fool; and in that folie I raved,
Til reson hadde ruthe on me and rokked me aslepe,
Til I seigh, as it sorcerie were, a sotil thyng withalle -
Oon withouten tonge and teeth, tolde me whider I sholde
And wherof I cam and of what kynde. I conjured hym at the laste,
If he were Cristes creature for Cristes love me to tellen.
' I am Cristes creature,' quod he, 'and Cristene in many a place,
In Cristes court yknowe wel, and of his kyn a party.
Is neither Peter the Porter, ne Poul with the fauchon,
That wole defende me the dore, dynge I never so late.
At mydnyght, at mydday, my vois is so yknowe

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poem by William Langland
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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 17

'I am Spes, a spie,' quod he, 'and spire after a knyght
That took me a maundement upon the mount of Synay
To rule alle reames therewith - l bere the writ here.'
'Is it asseled?' I seide. 'May men see thi lettres?'
'Nay.' he seide. 'I seke hym that hath the seel to kepe -
And that is cros and Cristendom, and Crist theron to honge.
And whan it is asseled so, I woot wel the sothe -
That Luciferis lordshipe laste shal no lenger!'
' Lat se thi lettres,' quod I, 'we myghte the lawe knowe.'
He plukkede forth a patente, a pece of an hard roche,
Whereon was writen two wordes on this wise yglosed;

Dilige Deum et proximum tuum -
This was the tixte trewely - I took ful good yeme.
The glose was gloriously writen with a gilt penne
In hiis duobus mandatis tota lex penhet et prophete.
' Is here alle thi lordes lawes?' quod I. ' Ye, leve me,' he seide.
'And whoso wet cheth after this writ, I wol undertaken,
Shal nevere devel hym dere, ne deeth in soule greve.
For though I seye it myself, I have saved with this charme

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poem by William Langland
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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 19

Thus I awaked and wroot what I hadde ydremed,
And dighte me derely, and dide me to chirche,
To here holly the masse and to be housled after.
In myddes of the masse, tho men yede to offryng,
I fel eftsoones aslepe - and sodeynly me mette
That Piers the Plowman was peynted al blody,
And com in with a cros bifore the comune peple,
And right lik in alle lymes to Oure Lord Jesu.
And thanne called I Conscience to kenne me the sothe
'Is this Jesus the justere,' quod I, 'that Jewes dide to dethe?
Or it is Piers the Plowman! Who peynted hym so rede?'
Quod Conscience, and kneled tho, ' Thise arn Piers armes -
Hise colours and his cote armure; ac he that cometh so blody
Is Crist with his cros, conquerour of Cristene.'
'Why calle ye hym Crist?' quod I, 'sithen Jewes called hym Jesus?
Patriarkes and prophetes prophecied bifore
That alle kynne creatures sholden knelen and bowen
Anoon as men nempned the name of God Jesu.
Ergo is no name to the name of Jesus,
Ne noon so nedeful to nempne by nyghte ne by daye.

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poem by William Langland
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The Brus Book 20

King Robert in Northumberland]

Sone eftre that the erle Thomas
Fra Wardaill thus reparyt was
The king assemblyt all his mycht
And left nane that wes worth to fycht,
5 A gret ost than assemblit he
And delt his ost in partis thre.
A part to Norame went but let
And a stark assege has set
And held thaim in rycht at thar dyk,
10 The tother part till Anwyk
Is went and thar a sege set thai,
And quhill that thir assegis lay
At thir castellis I spak off ar,
Apert eschewys oft maid thar war
15 And mony fayr chevalry
Eschevyt war full douchtely.
The king at thai castellis liand
Left his folk, as I bar on hand

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poem by John Barbour
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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 11

Thanne Scriptare scorned me and a skile tolde,
And lakked me in Latyn and light by me sette,
And seide, ' Multi multa sciunt et seipsos nesciunt.'
Tho wepte I for wo andwrathe of hir speche
And in a wynkynge w[o]rth til I [weex] aslepe.

A merveillous metels mette me thanne.
For I was ravysshed right there - for Fortune me fette
And into the lond of longynge and love she me broughte,
And in a mirour that highte Middelerthe she made me to biholde.
Sithen she seide to me,-Here myghtow se wondres,
And knowe that thow coveitest, and come therto, peraunter.'
Thanne hadde Fortune folwynge hire two faire damyseles
Concupiscencia Carnis men called the elder mayde,
And Coveitise of Eighes ycalled was that oother.
Pride of Parfit Lyvynge pursued hem bothe,
And bad me for my contenaunce acounten Clergie lighte.
Concupiscencia Carnis colled me aboute the nekke
And seide, 'Thow art yong and yeep and hast yeres ynowe
For to lyve longe and ladies to lovye;

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poem by William Langland
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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 10

Thanne hadde Wit a wif, was hote Dame Studie,
That lene was of lere and of liche bothe.
She was wonderly wroth that Wit me thus taughte,
And al staiynge Dame Studie sterneliche seide.
'Wel artow wis,' quod she to Wit, 'any wisdomes to telle
To flatereres or to fooles that frenetike ben of wittes!' -
And blamed hym and banned hym and bad hym be stille -
'With swiche wise wordes to wissen any sottes!'
And seide, ' Nolite mittere, man, margery perles
Among hogges that han hawes at wille.
Thei doon but dryvele theron - draf were hem levere
Than al the precious perree that in paradis wexeth.
I seye it by swiche,' quod she, 'that sheweth by hir werkes
That hem were levere lond and lordshipe on erthe,
Or richesse or rentes and reste at hir wille
Than alle the sooth sawes that Salamon seide evere.

'Wisdom and wit now is noght worth a kerse
But if it be carded with coveitise as clotheres kemben hir wolle.
Whoso can contreve deceites and conspire wronges

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poem by William Langland
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Life is Like A Flower

Life is like a flower.
It starts out as a seed,
Then a root,
A stem with a leaf,
Leaves and then a beautiful flower.

A baby.
Then learns how 2 talk,
Then the child is a flower.

Life is like a flower,
You are a flower

poem by LeLe Gallon
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Shopping= Me

Shopping is my passion,
Passion 4 fashion
The clothes, The shoes
Especially the food

I'll go a probally spend $50 or maybe $100

There's Claires, Hot Topic, And Raves
I really have a shopping crave

I love the mall
It's so full of life,
I love the mall
Let's go tonight.

poem by LeLe Gallon
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Who Lives Your Life

Do you have 2 change your culture because of what people say?

Do you have 2 change your day time hobby
just because of what people say about it

Do you have 2 change your future just because of what people say about it?

But do you have 2 change your self because you don't think no one cares?
Or do people live your life 4 you?

poem by LeLe Gallon
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Faith streams

Faith streams
on winged wonders-
these are angels of sunbeams
transmuting the dark extremes
to cheerful themes.

Faith flows
in the cauldron
of hope within
by which the cage of dismay, it blows
and the virus of failure, it outgrows.

Faith nurtures
itself
by feeding on the vitamins
of the inner cloisters,
with which the emotional void it conquers.

©® Chitra Lele

poem by Chitra
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