Music for a Sunday: The more I drink, the less I’m good for

Because it’s migration season, it’s cold out, and I’m in one of those witchy medieval states of mind, here you go:

A rough translation of the Middle English/Latin mix:

I saw many birds sitting on a tree
They all took flight and flew away.
With an I say! Have a good day!
Many white feathers has the magpie.
I can’t sing any more, my lips are so dry!
Many white feathers has the swan.
The more I drink, the less I’m good for;
Lay sticks on the fire, well may it burn!
Give us something to drink before we go away!

Everyone, applaud. (x4)

(Repeat, this time en ronde.)

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