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Melodious Melancholye: The sweet sounds of medieval England

Worldes blis ne last no throwe; hit wit ant wend away a non. the lengir that hich hit i knowe, the lasse hic finde pris ther on. for al hit is imeynd wyd kare, mid sorewe ant wid uvel fare, ant at the laste povere ant bare hit let mon, wen hit ginnet a gon. AI the blisse this here ant there bi louketh at hende wop ant mon.

AI shal gon that her man howet; al hit shal wenden to naut. the mon that her no god ne sowetwen other repen he worth bikert. thenc, mon, for thi, wil thu havest mykte, that thu thine gultus here arikte, ant withe god bi day an nikte ar then thu be of lisse ilakt. thu nost, wanne crist, ure drikte, the asket that he havet bitakt.

Mon, wi seestu love ant herte on worldesblisse, that nout ne last? Wy tholestu that te so ofte smerte for love that is so unstedefast? thu likest huni of thorn, iwis, that seest thi love on worldesblis, for ful of bitterness hit is. sore thu mikt ben of gast that despendes here heikte amis, wer thurthu ben. in to helle itakt.

Thenc, mon, war of crist the wroukte, ant do wey pride ant fulthe mod. thenc wou dere he the bokte on rode mit his swete blod. himself he gaf for the in pris, to buge the blis yf thu be wis;bi thenc the, mon, ant up aris of slovthe, an gin to worche god wil time to worchen is, for elles thu art witles ant wod.

Ne wort ne god ther unforgulde ne non uvel ne worth unboukt; wanne thu list, man, undur molde, thu shalt haven as tu havest wrokt. bi thenc the wel for thi, hic rede, ant clanse the of thine misdede, that he the helpe at thine nede that so dure hus haved iboukt, ant to hevene blisse lede that evere lest ant failet nout.

English translation:

Man, why do you set mind and heart on worldly bliss that does not last? You lick honey from a thorn, indeed, who set your love on worldly bliss, for it is full of bitterness. You may well be greatly terrified who mis-spend wealth here, thereby to be cast into hell. I advise you to cleanse yourself of each misdeed, so that He may lead you to the bliss of heaven.

French translation:

Que l'été est amusant, lorsque les oiseaux chantent. Ah, mais voilà que la tempête et l'orage arrivent! Ah, que cette nuit est longue, et je n'ai que souci et tristesse.

German translation:

Lustig ist es während der Sommerzeit, wenn die Vögel singen. Ach, nun kommen Sturm und Unwetter! Ach, diese Nacht ist lang und ich habe nur Sorge und Trauer.

Performers: Miriam Andersén (voice & harp), Rebecca Bain (voice & fiddle), Susanne Ansorg (fiddle & rebec)

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