​Photos by Erika Mueller
Erika, a PORTogether participant, whilst walking down near Station Pier noticed the sheer diversity of people travelling through Beacon Cove sharing in it's natural beauty and it brought to mind Chaucer's Canterbury's Tales.
Listen to it being read in the original old English, think about all the people that will have passed through Port Melbourne on various pilgrimages and have shared in it's treasures.
copy and past the following link into a new window to listen to the original prologue:
Listen to it being read in the original old English, think about all the people that will have passed through Port Melbourne on various pilgrimages and have shared in it's treasures.
copy and past the following link into a new window to listen to the original prologue:
www.luminarium.org/medlit/gpto42.mp3
Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote When April with its sweet-smelling showers
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote, Has pierced the drought of March to the root,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour And bathed every vein (of the plants) in such liquid
Of which vertu engendred is the flour; By the power of which the flower is created;
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth When the West Wind also with its sweet breath,
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth In every holt and heath, has breathed life into
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne The tender crops, and the young sun
Hath in the Ram his half cours yronne, Has run its half course in Aries,
And smale foweles maken melodye, And small fowls make melody,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye Those that sleep all the night with open eyes
(So priketh hem Nature in hir corages), (So Nature incites them in their hearts),
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages, Then folk long to go on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes, And professional pilgrims (long) to seek foreign shores,
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes; To (go to) distant shrines, known in various lands;
And specially from every shires ende And specially from every shire's end
Of Engelond to Caunterbury they wende, Of England to Canterbury they travel,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke, To seek the holy blessed martyr,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke. Who helped them when they were sick.
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote, Has pierced the drought of March to the root,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour And bathed every vein (of the plants) in such liquid
Of which vertu engendred is the flour; By the power of which the flower is created;
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth When the West Wind also with its sweet breath,
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth In every holt and heath, has breathed life into
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne The tender crops, and the young sun
Hath in the Ram his half cours yronne, Has run its half course in Aries,
And smale foweles maken melodye, And small fowls make melody,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye Those that sleep all the night with open eyes
(So priketh hem Nature in hir corages), (So Nature incites them in their hearts),
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages, Then folk long to go on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes, And professional pilgrims (long) to seek foreign shores,
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes; To (go to) distant shrines, known in various lands;
And specially from every shires ende And specially from every shire's end
Of Engelond to Caunterbury they wende, Of England to Canterbury they travel,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke, To seek the holy blessed martyr,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke. Who helped them when they were sick.
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