When the nightegale singes
And the wodes waxen grene
Lef and grass and blosme springes
In Averil, I wene
(And) love is to min herte gon
With one spere so kene
Night and day my blod it drinkes
Min herte deth me tene

Ich have loved all this year
That I may love namore
Ich have siked mony sik
Lemmon, for thin ore
Me nis love never the ner
And that me reweth sore
Swete lemmon, thench on me
Ich have loved thee yore

Swete lemmon, I preye thee
Of love one speche
Whil I live in world so wide
Other nulle I seche
With thy love, my swete leof
My bliss thou mightest eche
A swete cos of thy mouth
Mighte be my leche

Swete lemmon, I preye thee
Of a love-bene
If thou me lovest, as men says
Lemmon as I wene
And if it thy wille be
Thou loke that it be sene
So muchel I thenke upon thee
That all I waxe grene

Translation from Middle English:
When the nightingale sings,
And the woods grow green:
I expect, the leaves and the blades of grass,
And blossoms to spring up, in April;

And so love has shot through my heart
With a spear so honed
That night and day it drinks my blood
And my heart grieves.

All this year I have loved
The one I can love no more;
I have sighed so many sighs,
Sweetheart, for your favour.

Love will never be any closer to me,
And I rue that intensely.
Sweetheart, think about me:
I have loved you such a long time.

Dear sweetheart, I beg you,
For one word of love.
As long as I live I will not seek
Another throughout the entire world.

With your affection, my sweet love,
You could bring me joy:
A sweet kiss from your lips
Could cure me completely

Sweetheart, I beg you,
With a lover's petition,
If you love me, as they say you do,
Then love me as I want you to.

And if it be your will,
Then be sure you make it happen,
For I think of you so much,
That I'm growing like the spring.

See also:
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