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Chaucer's Canterbury Tales
Prologue, 1-18
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Original
Whan that Aprille with his shoures sote The droghte of Marche hath perced to the rote, And bathed every veyne in swich licour, Of which vertu engendred is the flour; When Zephirus eek with his swete breeth Inspired hath in every holt and heeth The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne, And smale fowles maken melodye, That slepen al the night with open ye, So priketh hem nature in hir corages: Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages And palmers for to seken straunge strandes To ferne halves, couthe in sondry landes; And specially, from every shires ende Of Engeland, to Caunterbury they wende, The holy blisfull martir for to seke That hem hath hoppen whan that they were seke. |
Translation
When in April the sweet showers fall And pierce the drought of March to the root, and all The veins are bathed in liquor of such power As brings about the engendering of the flower When also Zephyrus with his sweet breath Exhales an air in every grove and heath Upon the tender shoots, and the young sun His half-course in the sign of the Ram has run And the small fowl are making melody That sleep away the night with open eye (So nature pricks them and their heart engages) Then people long to go on pilgrimages And palmers long to seek the stranger strands Of far-off saints, hallowed in sundry lands, And especially from every shire's end Of England, down to Canterbury they wend To seek the holy blissful martyr, quick To give his help to them when they were sick. |
| Underlined words are derived from Teutonic (Anglo-Saxon) languages. | Underlined words are derived from Greek or Latin. |