Текст с Bandcamp’а:
“Harley Lyrics
Middle English
Circa 1340 or earlier
A lover complains that, though he is faithful, his secret love seems fickle.
“it’s hard on the man that loves the
love he can never win“
Lutel wot hit any mon
Hou derne loue may stonde,
Bote hit were a fre wymmon
That muche of loue had fonde.
The loue of hire ne lesteth nowyht longe,
Heo haueth me plyht ant wyteth me wyth wronge.
Euer ant oo for my leof Icham in grete thohte;
Y thenche on hire that Y ne seo nout ofte.
Y wolde nemne hyre today,Ant Y dorste hire munne;
Heo is that feireste may
Of vch ende of hire kunne.
Bote heo me loue, of me heo haues sunne;
Wo is him that loueth the loue that he may ner ywynne.
Euer ant oo etc.
Adoun Y fel to hire anon,
Ant crie ’Ledy, thyn ore!
Ledy, ha mercy of thy mon;
Lef thou no false lore!Yef thou dost, hit wol me reowe sore;
Loue dreccheth me that Y ne may lyue namore.’
Euer ant oo etc.
Fayrest fode vpo loft,
My gode luef, Y the greete
Ase fele sythe ant oft
As dewes dropes beth weete,
Ase sterres beth in welkne, ant grases sour ant suete.
Who-se loueth vntrewe, his herte is selde seete.
Euer ant oo, ect.
from Marginalia, released December 16, 2015“
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