When in April, with its sweet showers,
The drought of March had pierced to the root,
And bathed every root in such liquor
Of which virtue engendered is the flower.
Basically, it’s setting the scene for the coming story (it’s the introduction to The Canterbury Tales), and talking about in April spring starts to see rain dispelling the drought of March and filling the roots with sweet water.
It goes on to talk about the winds and the birds, where the sun is in the sky (directly overhead), and then to pilgrims starting their pilgrimages, as a sort of “And this is where we begin our story” thing.
I would like to clarify that Chaucer is Late Middle English, and English standards were in large part based on his writing, so his writing is generally understandable for most English readers. Early & Middle Middle English, though, not so much… Here’s a poem written in the transition betwen Old English and Early Middle English, where both can be spotted, called Durham (written in the early 12th century):
Is ðeos burch breome geond Breotenrice,
steppa gestaðolad, stanas ymbutan
wundrum gewæxen. Weor ymbeornad,
ea yðum stronge, and ðer inne wunað
feola fisca kyn on floda gemonge.
And ðær gewexen is wudafæstern micel;
wuniad in ðem wycum wilda deor monige,
in deope dalum deora ungerim. Is in ðere byri eac bearnum gecyðed
ðe arfesta eadig Cudberch
and ðes clene cyninges heafud,
Osuualdes, Engle leo, and Aidan biscop,
Eadberch and Eadfrið, æðele geferes.
Is ðer inne midd heom Æðelwold biscop
and breoma bocera Beda, and Boisil abbot,
ðe clene Cudberte on gecheðe
lerde lustum, and he his lara wel genom.
Eardiæð æt ðem eadige in in ðem minstre
unarimeda reliquia,
ðær monia wundrum gewurðað, ðes ðe writ seggeð,
midd ðene drihnes wer domes bideð.
Here’s part of the opening of Layamon’s Brut, from around 1200 CE (notice the simplified grammar / less inflection, and more familiar spelling):
An preost wes on leoden; Laȝamon wes ihoten. he wes Leouenaðes sone; liðe him beo Drihten. He wonede at Ernleȝe; at æðelen are chirechen. vppen Seuarne staþe; sel þar him þuhte. on-fest Radestone; þer he bock radde. Hit com him on mode; & on his mern þonke. þet he wolde of Engle; þa æðelæn tellen. wat heo ihoten weoren; & wonene heo comen. þa Englene londe; ærest ahten. æfter þan flode; þe from Drihtene com. þe al her a-quelde; quic þat he funde. buten Noe.& Sem; Iaphet & Cham. & heore four wiues; þe mid heom weren on archen. Laȝamon gon liðen; wide ȝond þas leode. & bi-won þa æðela boc; þa he to bisne nom. He nom þa Englisca boc; þa makede Seint Beda. An-oþer he nom on Latin; þe makede Seinte Albin. & þe feire Austin; pe fulluht broute hider in. Boc he nom þe þridde; leide þer amidden. þa makede a Frenchis clerc; Wace wes ihoten; þe wel couþe writen. & he hoe ȝef þare æðelen; Ælienor þe wes Henries quene; þes heȝes kinges. Laȝamon leide þeos boc; & þa leaf wende. he heom leofliche bi-heold. liþe him beo Drihten. Feþeren he nom mid fingren; & fiede on boc-felle. & þa soþere word; sette to-gadere. & þa þre boc; þrumde to are. Nu bidde[ð] Laȝamon alcne æðele mon; for þene almiten Godd. þet þeos boc rede; & leornia þeos runan. þat he þeos soðfeste word; segge to-sumne.
ICH was in one sumere dale, in one suþe diȝele hale, iherde ich holde grete tale an hule and one niȝtingale. Þat plait was stif & starc & strong, sum wile softe & lud among; an aiþer aȝen oþer sval, & let þat [vue]le mod ut al. & eiþer seide of oþeres custe þat alre-worste þat hi wuste: & hure & hure of oþere[s] songe hi holde plaiding suþe stronge. Þe niȝtingale bigon þe speche, in one hurne of one breche, & sat up one vaire boȝe, - þar were abute blosme inoȝe,- in ore waste þicke hegge imeind mid spire & grene segge. Ho was þe gladur uor þe rise, & song auele cunne wise: [b]et þuȝte þe dreim þat he were of harpe & pipe þan he nere: bet þuȝte þat he were ishote of harpe & pipe þan of þrote. [Þ]o stod on old stoc þar biside, þar þo vle song hire tide, & was mid iui al bigrowe; hit was þare hule earding-stowe. [Þ]e niȝtingale hi iseȝ, & hi bihold & ouerseȝ, & þuȝte wel [vu]l of þare hule, for me hi halt lodlich & fule. “Vnwiȝt,” ho sede, "awei þu flo! me is þe w[u]rs þat ich þe so. [folio 233r.2] Iwis for þine [vu]le lete, wel [oft ich] mine song forlete;
Some text from Ormulum by Orm, who attempted to reform & regularize English spelling, 13th century:
Levitas ad Johannem. Forrþi þatt Sannt Johaness word Sprang wide & side o lande, Forr þatt he wass u¯¯tnumenn mann I laress & i dedess, & forr þatt he bigann himm sellf, Þær þær he wass i wesste, To fullhtnenn baldeliȝ þe follc Þatt nass næfrær bigunnenn; Hiss word sprang inntill Ȝerrsalæm & inntill all þatt ende, & all þatt follc toc niþ wiþþ himm Þatt læredd wass o boke, Off þatt he toc swa baldeliȝ To spellenn & to fullhtnenn,Page 2, vol. 2 Alls iff he wære Drihhtin Crist Þatt tanne cumenn wære. & teȝȝ þa tokenn sanderrmenn Off preostess & off dæcness & senndenn u¯¯t off Ȝerrsalæm Till himm inntill þe wesste, Forr þatt teȝȝ sholldenn fraȝȝnenn himm, & asskenn whatt he wære. & swa þeȝȝ didenn, & he þeȝȝm Ȝaff sware onnȝæn, & seȝȝde; Namm I nohht Godess Sune, Crist, Þatt cumenn amm to manne. & teȝȝ onnȝæn till himm; arrt tu Helyas efft o life? & he till hemm; naȝȝ, namm I nohht Helyas efft o life. & ȝe¯¯ teȝȝ seȝȝdenn þuss till himm; Seȝȝ uss, arrt tu profete? & he þa seȝȝde þuss till hemm; Naȝȝ, namm I nohht profete.
Taken from Robert Mannyng’s Handlyng Synne, he was from Northern England and lived near Cambridge, 14th century (this one is pretty readable for English speakers, other than the words no longer used in Modern English):
Þe fyrst poynt of þy shryfte oweþ to be, ‘with þy gode wyl and hertë fre, whan þou art yn þy lyfë best, Awey þou shalt þy synnë kest;’ For þan wurschepest þou God aboue, And forsakest þy synne for hys loue. Dauyd seyþ, yn wurde to fulfyl, God shrofe hym with hys gode wyl; Abyde nat tyl þou most nedly, For þan hyt ys with fors and maystry; Þou shryuest þe þan for drede, Nat for loue, but more for nede; Þan semeþ hyt þat hyt shulde be Þat þy synne forsakeþ þe. Swyche shryftë made Acor þe þefe: whan he shulde go to pynë grefe, He shrof hys synne, how he hadde stole Þre þyngës þat he hade forhole, A mantle of skarlet, a rolle of golde, And syluer, he hydde vndyr molde; Yn þe byble men mow hyt se, Yn þe story of Iosue.
I only speak German as a second language, so I can’t verify this, but I see a lot of native German+English speakers say that some of Old English and earlier Middle English texts are actually quite readable for them. I imagine something similar would apply to people literate in Icelandic, but I haven’t seen that yet.
I’m a swedish native with decent german fluidity, the 12th century stuff reads like a hybrid between old norse and german, and by 15th century it just sounds like modern swenglish (look it up, it’s fucking hilarious)
When in April, with its sweet showers, The drought of March had pierced to the root, And bathed every root in such liquor Of which virtue engendered is the flower.
Basically, it’s setting the scene for the coming story (it’s the introduction to The Canterbury Tales), and talking about in April spring starts to see rain dispelling the drought of March and filling the roots with sweet water.
It goes on to talk about the winds and the birds, where the sun is in the sky (directly overhead), and then to pilgrims starting their pilgrimages, as a sort of “And this is where we begin our story” thing.
I would like to clarify that Chaucer is Late Middle English, and English standards were in large part based on his writing, so his writing is generally understandable for most English readers. Early & Middle Middle English, though, not so much… Here’s a poem written in the transition betwen Old English and Early Middle English, where both can be spotted, called Durham (written in the early 12th century):
Here’s part of the opening of Layamon’s Brut, from around 1200 CE (notice the simplified grammar / less inflection, and more familiar spelling):
Here’s part of The Owl and the Nightingale:
Some text from Ormulum by Orm, who attempted to reform & regularize English spelling, 13th century:
Taken from Robert Mannyng’s Handlyng Synne, he was from Northern England and lived near Cambridge, 14th century (this one is pretty readable for English speakers, other than the words no longer used in Modern English):
Wow, it goes from something that looks almost German to nearly readable modern English. That was crazy to see. Thanks for the information.
I only speak German as a second language, so I can’t verify this, but I see a lot of native German+English speakers say that some of Old English and earlier Middle English texts are actually quite readable for them. I imagine something similar would apply to people literate in Icelandic, but I haven’t seen that yet.
I’m a swedish native with decent german fluidity, the 12th century stuff reads like a hybrid between old norse and german, and by 15th century it just sounds like modern swenglish (look it up, it’s fucking hilarious)
Don’t forget Frisian.
“Brea, bûter en griene tsiis is goed Ingelsk en goed Frysk”