stdClass Object
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    [ID] => 14160
    [post_author] => 4
    [post_date] => 2013-10-08 15:50:31
    [post_date_gmt] => 2013-10-08 15:50:31
    [post_content] => Alas, my worthy master honourable,
The riches and the treasure of this land!
Death, by your death, has dealt irreparable
And grievous harm: the vengeance of her hand
Has robbed our country of the sweet command
Of speech; for no-one else was ever so
Adept an orator as Cicero.
And who was heir to Aristotle in
Philosophy but you? In poetry,
Who followed Virgil’s steps? We know too well.
The burden of the world that killed my master -
I wish that I were killed! – Death, was too fast
To run at you and rob you of your life.
She might have held her vengeance off a while,
Until there was an equal in your place;
But no, forget that – she well knew this isle
Would never bear another man like you,
And yet she had to do what she was told.
Oh master, master, may God rest your soul!
    [post_title] => Lament for Chaucer
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => lament-for-chaucer
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2015-11-26 13:53:13
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2015-11-26 13:53:13
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=14160
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    [post_type] => poems
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        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2013
            [wpcf-summary-description] => Alice translated Thomas Hoccleve’s ‘Lament for Chaucer’ from the Middle English, in response to our translation challenge.

Translator’s note: I thought it was very important to retain the iambic pentameter that Hoccleve used, as this was probably to honour Chaucer, who frequently used the meter himself. I also thought it equally important to retain the disruptions to the meter – when ‘Deth’ is mentioned in the first stanza, the reader wants to place the stress on the words ‘Deth’ and ‘thy’ rather than ‘by’ and ‘deth’. This disruption seemed to echo the meaning of the phrase perfectly, and I tried hard to emulate this myself. Where possible, I also kept to the rhyme scheme (though it grew harder to do this without compromising the meaning) and tried to keep the vocabulary relatively simple; firstly, because Hoccleve was known for being a somewhat ‘simple’ poet, and secondly because it felt rather inappropriate when the poem is essentially about how wonderful Chaucer is with words. The largest change I made was probably with the structure – my translation is not divided into stanzas. Though I liked the way the original consists of three stanzas – it seems to reflect the fact that Hoccleve tries to rationalise and make sense of the death – I was not doing a complete line-by-line translation, and couldn’t divide them neatly.
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => Winner, Translation Challenge 2013
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
        )

    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
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            [ID] => 13570
            [forename] => Alice 
            [surname] => Cattley
            [title] => Alice Cattley
            [slug] => alice-cattley
            [content] => Alice Cattley is a winner of the Young Poets Network 'Automatic writing' and 'Translation' challenges.
        )

)
stdClass Object
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    [ID] => 13570
    [forename] => Alice 
    [surname] => Cattley
    [title] => Alice Cattley
    [slug] => alice-cattley
    [content] => Alice Cattley is a winner of the Young Poets Network 'Automatic writing' and 'Translation' challenges.
)

Lament for Chaucer

Alice Cattley

Alas, my worthy master honourable,
The riches and the treasure of this land!
Death, by your death, has dealt irreparable
And grievous harm: the vengeance of her hand
Has robbed our country of the sweet command
Of speech; for no-one else was ever so
Adept an orator as Cicero.
And who was heir to Aristotle in
Philosophy but you? In poetry,
Who followed Virgil’s steps? We know too well.
The burden of the world that killed my master –
I wish that I were killed! – Death, was too fast
To run at you and rob you of your life.
She might have held her vengeance off a while,
Until there was an equal in your place;
But no, forget that – she well knew this isle
Would never bear another man like you,
And yet she had to do what she was told.
Oh master, master, may God rest your soul!