Money, Oh how I love thee, Let me count the ways.

Yup, like most young families, we're broke. It's actually not that bad, but we want to go on vacation, and we also have to get new tires. We can do both, but I decided that it would be fun to do a little medieval style complaining, since money's on my mind.

Complaint to His Purse
Geoffrey Chaucer

To you, my purse, and to noon other wyght
Compleyne I, for ye be my lady dere!
I am so sory, now that ye ben light;
For certes, but ye make me hevy chere,
Me were as leef be leyd upon my bere;
For whiche unto your mercy thus I crye
"Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye!"

Now voucheth sauf this day, or hit be nyght,
That I of you the blisful soun may here,
Or see yout colour lyk the sonne bright,
That of yelownesse hadde never pere.
Ye be my lyf, ye be myn hertes stere,
Quene of comfort and of good companye;
Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye!

Now purse, that be to me my lyves light
And saveour, as doun in this worlde here,
Out of this toun help me throgh your myght,
Syn that ye wole not been my tresorere;
For I am shave a nye as any frere.
But yet I pray unto your curtesye,
Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye!

There you go. A love letter to my wallet. I hope it brings a smile to your face.