Ancrene Wiseass

A would-be medievalist holds forth on academia, teaching, gender politics, blogging, pop culture, critters, and whatever else comes her way.

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Yes, this really is yet another blog by a disillusioned grad student. I sympathize, but that's just the way it has to be. For hints as to what my bizarre alias means, click here and here and, if needed, here and here. To get a sense of what I'm up to, feel free to check out the sections called "Toward a Wiseass Creed" and "Showings: Some Introductory Wiseassery" in my main blog's left-hand sidebar. Please be aware that spamming, harassing, or otherwise obnoxious comments will be deleted and traced.

Friday, March 31, 2006

Friday Poetry Blogging: A Tone-Deaf Troubadour

If I singe, ye will me lakke* blame
And wenen* I wer out of min wit; believe
Therfor smale notes will I crake;* croak
So wolde God I were quit.

Syne* me muste take this mery toin* since / tune
To glade* withal this cumpany, gladden
I rede* or* ony swich* be don, advise / before / such
For Godes love, tey* up your ky!* take / key

Forsothe I may not singe, I say;
My voys and I arn at discord;

But we shul fonde* to take a day try
To taken min avis* and min acord. advice

Found in Middle English Lyrics: A Norton Critical Edition, ed. Maxwell S. Luria and Richard L. Hoffman (p. 156)