Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales: General Prologue 12, The Franklin - (A Minimalist Translation) Poem by Forrest Hainline

Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales: General Prologue 12, The Franklin - (A Minimalist Translation)

A Franklin was in his company.
White was his beard as is the daisy;
Of his complexion he was sanguine.
Well loved he by the morning a sup of wine;
To live in delight was ever his won,
For he was Epicurus' own son,
That held opinion that plain delight
Was very felicity parfit.
A householder, and that a great, was he;
Saint Julian was he in his country.
His bread, his ale, was always after one;
A better envied man was nowhere known.
Without baked meat was never his house,
Of fish and flesh, and that so plenteous
It snowed in his house of meat and drink;
Of all dainties that men could think,
After the sundry seasons of the year,
So changed he his meat and his supper.
Full many a fat partridge had he in mew,
And many a bream and many a luce in stew.
Woe was his cook but if his sauce were
Poignant and sharp, and ready all his gear.
His table dormant in his hall alway
Stood ready covered all the long day.
At sessions there he was lord and sire;
Full oft time he was knight of the shire.
A dagger and a purse all of silk
Hung at his girdle, white as morning milk.
A sheriff had he been, an auditor.
Was nowhere such a worthy vavasour.

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Forrest Hainline