Geoffrey Chaucer’s “Merciless Beauty”

My Translation

Merciless Beauty

I

Your
two eyes slay me suddenly;

I
may not withstand the beauty of their gleam,

So
wounded it throughout my heart so keen.

And
but your word would heal it hastily—

My
heart’s wound, while fresh and green.

Your two eyes slay me suddenly;

I may not withstand the beauty of their
gleam.

Upon
my truth I saw you faithfully

That
you’ve been of my life and death the queen;

For
with my death the truth, it shall be seen.

Your two eyes slay me suddenly;

I may not withstand the beauty of their
gleam,

So wounded it throughout my heart so keen.

II

So
has your beauty from your heart chased

Pity,
that it cannot avail me to complain;

For
Haughty holds your mercy in his chain.

Guiltless
my death have you thus purchased;

Say
I to you the truth and need not feign;

So has your beauty from your heart chased

Pity, that it cannot avail me to complain.

Alas!
that Nature has in you encased

So
great a beauty, that no man may attain

Your
mercy, though he die in pain.

So has your beauty from your heart chased

Pity, that it cannot avail me to complain;

For Haughty holds your mercy in his chain.

III

Since
I from Love escaped am fat,

I
never think to be in his prison lean;

Since
I am free, I count him not a bean.

He
may answer, saying this and that;

But
I care not, for I speak right as I mean.

Since I from Love escaped am fat,

I never think to be in his prison lean;

Love
has struck my name from out his slate,

And
he is stricken from my books, and clean

For
evermore; there is no other means.

Since I from Love escaped am fat,

I never think to be in his prison lean;

Since I am free, I count him not a bean.

Original Middle English

Merciles Beaute

Your yën two wol slee me sodenly;

I may the beautee of hem not sustene,

So woundeth hit throughout my herte kene.

And but your word wol helen hastily

My hertes wounde, while that hit is grene,

Your yën two wol slee me sodenly;

I may the beautee of hem not sustene.

Upon my trouthe I sey you feithfully

That ye ben of my lyf and deeth the quene;

For with my deeth the trouthe shal be sene.

Your yën two wol slee me sodenly;

I may the beautee of hem not sustene,

So woundeth it throughout my herte kene.

II

So hath your beautee fro your herte chaced

Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne;

For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.

Giltles my deeth thus han ye me purchaced;

I sey you sooth, me nedeth not to feyne;

So hath your beautee fro your herte chaced

Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne.

Allas! that Nature hath in you compassed

So greet beautee, that no man may atteyne

To mercy, though he sterve for the peyne.

So hath your beautee fro your herte chaced

Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne;

For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.

III

Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat,

I never thenk to ben in his prison lene;

Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene.

He may answere, and seye this and that;

I do no fors, I speke right as I mene.

Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat

I never thenk to ben in his prison lene.

Love hath my name ystrike out of his sclat,

And he is strike out of my bokes clene

For evermo; ther is non other mene.

Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat,

I never thenk to ben in his prison lene;

Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene.

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