I have a yonge suster (Middle English, c. 1430)

I have a yong suster
Fer biyonde the see;
Manye be the druries
That she sente me.

She sente me the cherye
Withouten any stoon,
And so she dide the dove
Withouten any boon.

She sente me the brere
Withouten any rinde;
She bad me love my lemman
Withoute longinge.

How sholde any cherye
Be withoute stoon?
And how sholde any dove
Be withoute boon?

How sholde any brere
Be withoute rinde?
How sholde I love my lemman
Withoute longinge?

Whan the cherye was a flowr,
Thanne hadde it no stoon;
Whan the dove was an ey,
Thanne hadde it no boon.

Whan the brere was unbred,
Thanne hadde it no rinde;
Whan the maiden hath that she loveth,
She is withoute longinge.

---

Text with gloss at luminarium. We read this in our newly-formed Middle English group yesterday - I was utterly charmed by the riddling effect, as well as by the unusual fact of a text whch suggests longing is not the epitome of love.

Culture shock?

Today a construction worker called out 'BONJOUR' and doffed his hardhat to me.

Is this a genevois cultural custom, or a unique alternative to the wolf-whistle? Only time will tell!