tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950322009130716236.post-83254713142928981892008-04-11T10:39:00.001-07:002008-04-11T11:05:56.109-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_B7gY6DksAuw/R_-levngyHI/AAAAAAAAAm0/c9cYCtMbpB8/s1600-h/Aprille+Chaucer.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_B7gY6DksAuw/R_-levngyHI/AAAAAAAAAm0/c9cYCtMbpB8/s400/Aprille+Chaucer.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188047243350952050" /></a><br /><br />Of all the poetry I was required to memorize in school, this short bit from the Prologue of the Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer is only thing I still remember. I always think of it when April comes especially when rain is falling. You can hear the Middle English being read <a href="http://www.herr-rau.de/archiv/chaucer/prologue.mp3">here</a> and read a translation into contemporary English <a href="http://www.ronaldecker.com/general.htm">here</a>.Susan Kapuscinski Gaylordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10174952588173490738noreply@blogger.com