'And þus ȝirnez þe ȝere in ȝisterdayez mony'

On autumn and the changing of the year, from Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (ll.516-533):

After þe sesoun of somer wyth þe soft wyndez

Quen Zeferus syflez hymself on sedez and erbez,

Wela wynne is þe wort þat waxes þeroute,

When þe donkande dewe dropez of þe leuez,

To bide a blysful blusch of þe bryȝt sunne;

Bot þen hyȝes heruest, and hardenes hym sone,

Warnez hym for þe wynter to wax ful rype;

He dryues wyth droȝt þe dust for to ryse,

Fro þe face of þe folde to flyȝe ful hyȝe;

Wroþe wynde of þe welkyn wrastelez with þe sunne,

Þe leuez lancen fro þe lynde and lyȝten on þe grounde,

And al grayes þe gres þat grene watz ere;

Þenne al rypez and rotez þat ros vpon fyrst,

And þus ȝirnez þe ȝere in ȝisterdayez mony,

And wynter wyndez aȝayn, as þe worlde askez,
no fage,
Til Meghelmas mone
Watz cumen wyth wynter wage.

Gawain is difficult to translate without losing the poetry, but here's my attempt:

Then comes the season of summer, with its soft winds,
When Zephyrus breathes on seeds and herbs,
- A great good is the plant that grows thus –
When the drenching dew drops from the leaves
To await the bright blush of the burning sun;
But then hies harvest, and quickly hardens it,
And warns it to wax ripe against the winter’s coming;
He drives in drought and rises the dust
Flying up high from the face of the earth;
Wrathful winds from the sky wrestle with the sun
The leaves are loosed from the linden and light on the ground,
And all the grass greys that green was before;
Then all ripens and rots that formerly arose;
And thus runs the year in yesterdays many,
And winter wakes again, as the world asks,
in truth,
Until the Michaelmas moon was come
With the first pledge of winter.