Medieval Poems

Candle light oscillating
Luxing like amoeba
Silenced to actuate
Jus Primae Noctis
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Miniver Cheevy, child of scorn,
Grew lean while he assailed the seasons;
He wept that he was ever born,
And he had reasons.
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At four o'clock
in the gun-metal blue dark
we hear the first crow of the first cock
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A youth in apparel that glittered
Went to walk in a grim forest.
There he met an assassin
Attired all in garb of old days;
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SINGING my days,
Singing the great achievements of the present,
Singing the strong, light works of engineers,
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Primitive

I ate my fill of a whale that died
And stranded after a month at sea. . . .
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PROUD music of the storm!
Blast that careers so free, whistling across the prairies!
Strong hum of forest tree-tops! Wind of the mountains!
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Today, because I couldn't find the shortcut through,
I had to walk this town's entire inner
perimeter to find
where the medieval walls break open
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Like medieval knights
Armor clad, in fields battle
To reap victory
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I am tired of the heave and swell,
the deep lunge in the belly, the gut's
dumb show of dance and counterdance,
sway and pause, the pure jig of nausea
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A medieval proverb comes to mind
While thinking of the head
Who rules the roost,
Too busy, could post,
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Among the cypress trees we picnic in the Tuscan sun a bottle of wine and some bread. Honey coloured village on the hilltop, medieval church bells ring, children play in the fields, oh heavenly is this place of old stones and towers.
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Sitting in Lucca surrounded by ancient medieval churches, I listen to a violinist play, old people and children's laughter fills the air as the balloon man ties another animal creation. Church bells ring as people cycle over the town square. Lovers hold hands and kiss drinking each other with their loving eyes.
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TRANSLATIONS OF THE OLDEST RHYMING POEMS IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE

These are translations of some of the oldest rhyming poems in the English language. While the focus is on early English rhyming poems, there is a section on early rhyming poems from other languages at the bottom of this page. The oldest Old English (i.e., Anglo-Saxon) poems did not rhyme, but were alliterative and used repetition of consonant and vowel sounds to create word-music. For example:
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(A lone voice whispers at 3 am)

There was always something so controversial and medieval about exploring semi-clothed in the dark shadows
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I Have Labored Sore
anonymous medieval lyric (circa the fifteenth century)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
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all along the maypole the green mans face appears;
words and pages woven in pagan practices.
midsummer madness and particoloured fools
Morris and nine men dance bells a jingling
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Masks prose without links


When last I visited India almost a decade ago
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There is always an unending stream of visitors to Italy's Pompeii,
A standout aspect that can't be missed by the tourist's discerning eye,
You brace yourself for an exciting, informative tour of the site,
Whilst being aware of it's agonizing history, that is so contrite
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