A Clerk there was of Oxford also, <br />That unto logic had long ago. <br />As lean was his horse as is a rake, <br />And he was not right fat, I undertake, <br />But looked hollow, and thereto soberly, <br />Full threadbare was his outer courtepy, <br />For he had gotten him yet no benefice, <br />Nor was so worldly for to have office. <br />For he would rather have at his bed’s head <br />Twenty books, clad in black or red, <br />Or Aristotle and his philosophy <br />Than robes rich, or fiddle, or gay psaltry. <br />But all be that he was a philosopher, <br />Yet had he but little gold in coffer; <br />But all that he might of his friends hente, <br />On books and on learning he it spent, <br />And busily go on for the soul’s prayer <br />Of them that gave him werewith to scholar. <br />Of study took he most cure and most heed. <br />Not a word spoke he more than was need, <br />And that was said in form and reverence, <br />And short and quick and full of high sentence; <br />Sown in moral virtue was his speech, <br />And gladly would he learn and gladly teach. <br /> <br />© 2008 Forrest Hainline<br /><br />Forrest Hainline<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/general-prologue-10-the-clerk-geoffrey-chaucer-forrest-hainline-s-minimalist-translation/
