aefenglommung (aefenglommung) wrote,
aefenglommung
aefenglommung

The Red Foliot's Dirge for King Gorice XI

Here's another from The Worm Ouroboros. This time, it's taken from William Dunbar (late 15th Century), "Lament for the Makaris: quhen he was seik."

I that in heill was and gladness
Am trublit now with great sickness
And feblit with infirmitie: --
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Our plesance here is all vain glory,
This fals world is but transitory,
The flesh is bruckle, the Feynd is slee: --
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

The state of man does change and vary,
Now sound, now sick, now blyth, now sary,
Now dansand mirry, now like to die: --
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

No state in Erd here standis sicker;
As with the wynd wavis the wicker,
So wannis this world's vanitie: --
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Unto the Death gois all Estatis,
Princis, Prelattis, and Potestatis,
Baith rich and poor of all degree: --
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He takis the knichtis in to field
Enarmit under helm and scheild;
Victor he is at all mellie: --
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

That strong unmerciful tyrand
Takis, on the motheris breast sowkand,
The babe full of benignitie: --
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He takis the campion in the stour,
The captain closit in the tour,
The lady in bour full of bewtie: --
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He spairis no lord for his piscence,
Na clerk for his intelligence;
His awful straik may no man flee: --
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Art-magicianis and astrologis,
Rethoris, logicianis, theologis,
Them helpis no conclusionis slee: --
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

In medecine the most practicianis,
Leechis, surrigianis, and physicianis,
Themself from Death may nocht supplee: --
Timor Mortis conturbat me.
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