The thought of the "Medieval Literature Charts" is highly amusing. This week will Chaucer at last unseat Beowulf as #1?
Max:
Aemula quid cessas finem properare senectus?
cur et in hoc fesso corpore tarda uenis?
solue precor miseram tali de carcere uitam:
mors est iam requies, uiuere poena mihi,
non sum qui fueram:
Envious old age, why do you hesitate to hasten my end? Why do you arrive slowly in this tired body? I beg you: release my wretched life from this prison-house. Death is now rest for me, to live is punishment.
I am not what I was.
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Aaron Poochigian
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