"I wanna be a billionaire so frickin bad..."

I first read this poem by Geoffrey Chaucer in "Lap Me In Soft Lydian Airs" and I found it pretty amusing. I was kinda distress at the time for the amount in my purse is getting low!

This is the translation of "Chaucer Complaint To His Purse" into contemporary English that I found in the blog.

To you, my purse, and to no one else

Do I complain, for you are my true love.

I am so sorry that there is no weight in you

For you certainly give me such heavy grief

That I might as well be laid on my bier:

And so I fall on your mercy crying

Be heavy again, or else I must die

Now promise today, before nightfall,

That I may hear your wonderful sound

Or behold your colour, bright as the sun,

Of unequalled yellowness.

You are my life, you are the rudder of my heart,

Queen of ease and of good company:

Be heavy again, or else I must die!

Now, purse, that are to me my life's light

And saviour down in this world here,

Help me out of it through your power

If you prefer not to be my treasurer,

For I am as close shaven (i.e. skint) as any monk.

All the same I pray you , in your kindness

Be heavy again, or else I must die!

Reference:

Campbell-Howes, C. Top lines from Chaucer no. 3. Retrieved Jun 21, 2010, from http://lydianairs.blogspot.com/

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And now I am reading it while listening to Bruno Mars' "Billionaire". Isn't life interesting? *smirk*

-Miss B-