love wounded and bound


A medieval poem I came across translated from old english…

In the valley of this restless mind
I sought in mountain and in meadow
Trusting a true love to find
Upon a hill I took heed
A huge sadness complying then
“See, dear Soul, how My Heart bleeds?
Quia amore langueo!”
(Because I am sick for love!)

Upon this hill I found a Tree
Under a Tree a Man sitting
From Head to Foot wounded was He.
His Hearts blood I saw bleeding
He was handsome enough to be a King
A gracious Face to look upon.
I asked Him why He had pining
He said, “Quia amore langueo!”

“I am True Love Who fails never
My sister, Mannis (Man’s) Soul, I loved her thus
Because I in no way part company
I left My Kingdom glorious
She flees; I follow, I sought her so
I suffered this pain piteous
Quia amore langueo


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