Woman gone mad: from the 'Life of St Alexis', anon, 11th century

 

...La vint corant com femme forsenee, Batant ses palmes, criant, eschevelee; Vit mort son fils, à terre chet pasmee.

...She came running, a woman gone mad, Beating her hands, crying, dishevelled; Saw her son dead, fell upon the ground.

Qui donc li vit son grant duel demener, Son piz debatre et son sors dejeter, Ses crins serompre et son vis maiseler, Son mort enfant detraire et acoler, Moult fust il dur qui n'estoüst plorer.

Whoever saw her vent her great grief, Beating her breast, throwing herself down, Tearing her hair and clawing her face, Holding and hugging her own dead son, And did not weep - he was hard in truth.

Trait ses chevels et debat sa poitrine, A grant duel met la soe carn meïsme: "E! fils" dit ele, "com m'eus enhaïe! Et jo, dolent, com par fui avoglie! Net conoisseie plus qu'onques net veïsse."

She tears at her hair and beats her breast, Fiercely tormenting her own sad flesh. "Oh, my son! How cruel you were to me! I...how blind I was, not knowing you As if my eyes had never seen you."

..."Ainz quet veïsse, sin fui moult desirose; Ainz que né fusses, sin fui moult angossose; Quant jot vi né, sin fui liee et joiose. Or te vei mort, tote en sui dolerose. Ço peise mei que ma fin tant demore."

..."Ere I saw you, how great my longing; Ere I bore you, how great my torment; But when you were born, then came delight. Now I see you dead; now comes sorrow. I grieve I must wait so long to die."

"Seignors de Rome, por amor Dieu, merci! Aidiez m'à plaindre le duel de mon ami. Grans est li duels qui sor mei est vertis, Ne puis tant faire que mes cuers s'en sazit: N'est pas merveille: n'ai mais fille ne fils."

"O lords of Rome, for God's love, pity! Help me to grieve the loss of my love. So great the sorrows come upon me, No mourning now can ease my heart: No marvel: I have no children more."