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Fun With English Lit


Subdeacon Joe

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...it must be read aloud...
For all my friends who love Middle English: I present Tom Weller's "Beowulf ond Godsylla," an epic poem of heroism, telephones, and Coca-Cola! I would appreciate all scholarly commentary on this recently-discovered historical find...
Meanehwæl, baccat meaddehæle,
monstær lurccen;
Fulle few too many drincce,
hie luccen for fyht.
Ðen Hreorfneorhtðhwr,
son of Hrwærowþheororthwl,
Æsccen æwful jeork
to steop outsyd.
Þhud! Bashe! Crasch! Beoom!
Ðe bigge gye
Eallum his bon brak,
byt his nose offe;
Wicced Godsylla
wæld on his asse.
Monstær moppe fleor wyþ
eallum men in hælle.
Beowulf in bacceroome
fonecall bamaccen wæs;
Hearen sond of ruccus
sæd, "Hwæt ðe helle?"
Graben sheold strang
ond swich-blæd scharp
Stond feorth to fyht
ðe grimlic foe.
"Me," Godsylla sæd,
"mac ðe minsemete."
Heoro cwyc geten heold
wiþ fæmed half-nelson
Ond flyng him lic frisbe
bac to fen
Beowulf belly up
to meaddehæle bar,
Sæd, "Ne foe beaten
mie færsom cung-fu."
Eorderen cocca-cohla
yce-coeld, ðe reol þyng.
(Actually, I am seeking an ancient font so that this may be convincingly hidden upon a webpage, something I discussed with Mr. Weller. If you know of one, fully fitted with thorns.. let me know.)

 

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18 hours ago, Pat Riot, SASS #13748 said:

Oh Man, I can actually read that. Is that really Middle English, Joe?


“Wicked Godzilla wailed on his arse!” :lol:

 

 

The spelling is kind of Middle/Old Englishish .  Some of the characters are taken from Old English.

 

Remember, Beowulf was written in Old English, not Middle English.

 

The Canterbury Tales are in Middle English, and are reasonably readable by most educated people once they get over their fear of it. There are words that you have to guess at, but most you can get from context.

 

1.1 General Prologue

The Middle English text is from Larry D. Benson., Gen. ed., The Riverside Chaucer,
Houghton-Mifflin Company; used with permission of the publisher.

1         Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote
                  When April with its sweet-smelling showers
2         The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
                 Has pierced the drought of March to the root,
3         And bathed every veyne in swich licour
                 And bathed every vein (of the plants) in such liquid
4         Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
                 By which power the flower is created;
5         Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
                 When the West Wind also with its sweet breath,
6         Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
                 In every wood and field has breathed life into
7         The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
                 The tender new leaves, and the young sun
8         Hath in the Ram his half cours yronne,
                 Has run half its course in Aries,
9         And smale foweles maken melodye,
                 And small fowls make melody,
10         That slepen al the nyght with open ye
                 Those that sleep all the night with open eyes
11         (So priketh hem Nature in hir corages),
                 (So Nature incites them in their hearts),
12         Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
                 Then folk long to go on pilgrimages

 

 

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