
So, in a recent spate of emails, we've been writing a little 'Franglais' to each other, a happy mix of English and not-quite-French , as if you couldn't guess. As luck would have it, he signed one of his missives 'Herbergage', which I chose to alter to 'Herbgarbage', in view of the erudite conversation we'd been holding. (?!)
This morning, in true brotherly fashion, back came this poetic gem:-
Herbgarbage? HERBGARBAGE?! I suppose you think that's funny!
O weilawei! O lackaday!
Myne owne sustre thenketh
Her broder hys nam to mock.
Nu, Adam hys rib! Unnatured sib!
I'll mak thine een to blenketh!
I'll give thi sic a knock!
Myne nam tis HERBERGAGE I tell thi.
Mi wyf's a witch -- ond nu shee'll spell thi!
X
PS: Yes, I know 'blenketh' is third person singular, not infinitive. I gave up authenticity for the sake of the rhyme. So sue me. Herb
How could I not share that with Blogland in general? Perhaps if you read this, you may like to comment in your own version of Olde English - or Anye Othere Olde Tongue - or should that be Tong? Or even Language - or Long-age - or whatever else you choose to invent...