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Anc ieu non l'aic mas elha m'a
totz temps en son poder Amors
e fai'm irat let, savi fol
cum selhui qu'en re nos torna,
c'om no's defend qui ben ama,
qu'Amors comanda
qu'om la serv'e la blanda:
per qu'ieu n'aten
sufren
bona partida
quan m'er escarida.

Eu dic pauc q'ins el cor m'esta
q'estar me fa temen paors;
la lenga's feing mas lo cors vol
so don dolen si sojorna:
ie'n languis, mas no s'en clama
qu'en tant a randa
cum mars terra guaranda
non a tan gen,
prezen
cum la cauzida
qu'ieu ai encobida.

Tant sai son pretz fin e certa
per qu'ieu no'm puesc virar alhors;
per so fatz ieu que'l cor m'en dol,
can soleilz clau ni sojorna:
eu non aus dir qui m'aflama;
lo cor m'abranda
e'ill uelh n'an la vianda,
quar solamen
vezen
m'estai aizida.
Ve'us que'm ten a vida!

Fols es qui per parlar en va
quer com sos jois sia dolors,
que lauzengier, cui Deus afol,
non an ges lengua adorna:
l'us cosselh'e l'autre brama,
per que's desmanda
amors c'als fora granda;
mas ieu'm defen
fenhen
de lor bruida
e a em ses falhida.

Pero jauzen me te e sa
ab un plazer ab que m'a sors;
mas mi no passara ja'l col
per paor qui'l no'm fos morna,
q'enquera'm sen de la flama
d'Amor qui'm manda
que mon cor non espanda:
si fatz coven,
temen,
pus vei per crida
manht'amor delida

Maint bon chantar levet e pla
n'agr'ieu plus fait si'm fes secors
cil q'em dona joi e'l me tol,
q'er sui letz er m'o trastorna,
car a son vol me liama.
Re no'il demanda
mos cors ni no'ill fai guanda,
mas franchamen
li'm ren:
donc, si m'oblida,
Merces es perida.

Mielz-de-ben ren,
si't pren,
chanzos grazida
qu'Arnautz non oblida.

I never held it but it holds me
all the time in its bail, Love,
and makes me glad in anger, fool in wisdom
as one who never can fight back,
because one who loves well cannot defend himself.
'cause love commands
that men serve and soothe it:
for which I expect,
suffering,
a good reward,
whenever it is granted.

I tell little of what's in my heart:
fear makes me silent and scared;
tongue hides but heart wants
that on which, in pain, it broods so:
I languish, but I do not complain
because, as far
as the sea embraces the earth
there's none so kind,
currently,
as the chosen one
for whom I long.

I so know her value, certain and true,
that I cannot turn elsewhere;
I do so that my heart aches,
when the sun sets and rests:
I don't dare say who inflames me;
my heart burns
but my eyes are fed,
because only
seeing her
has been left to me.
You see what keeps me alive!

Foolish is he who, for the sake of speech,
turns his joy into pain,
because slanderers, god curse them,
never have a gilded tongue:
one whispers, the other brays,
and so withdraws
a love that would be great;
but I fight back,
disguising,
their blame
and I love with no hesitation.

That's why it keeps me happy and fine
with a favour with which it has raised me;
but it will never pass trough my throat,
for fear that she gets gloomy,
since I still feel the flame
of Love, that orders me
not to spread my mind:
I swear it,
frightened,
because I've seen many a love
deleted by its fame.

Many a light and easy song
I would have made, had she come to my help,
the one who gifts me with joy and takes it away,
'cause now I'm glad and now she turns me:
I am bound to her will.
Nothing asks
my heart, nor does it flee her,
but, earnestly,
I surrender to her:
if she then forgets me,
mercy is dead.

Tell Better-Than-Good,
if she takes you,
gracious song,
that Arnaut does not forget.