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Lo ferm voler qu'el cor m'intra
no'm pot ges becs escoissendre ni ongla
de lauzengier qui pert per mal dir s'arma;
e pus no l'aus batr'ab ram ni verja,
sivals a frau, lai on non aurai oncle,
jauzirai joi, en vergier o dins cambra.

Quan mi sove de la cambra
on a mon dan sai que nulhs om non intra
-ans me son tug plus que fraire ni oncle-
non ai membre no'm fremisca, neis l'ongla,
aissi cum fai l'enfas devant la verja:
tal paor ai no'l sia prop de l'arma.

Del cor li fos, non de l'arma,
e cossentis m'a celat dins sa cambra,
que plus mi nafra'l cor que colp de verja
qu'ar lo sieus sers lai ont ilh es non intra:
de lieis serai aisi cum carn e ongla
e non creirai castic d'amic ni d'oncle.

Anc la seror de mon oncle
non amei plus ni tan, per aquest'arma,
qu'aitan vezis cum es lo detz de l'ongla,
s'a lieis plagues, volgr'esser de sa cambra:
de me pot far l'amors qu'ins el cor m'intra
miels a son vol c'om fortz de frevol verja.

Pus floric la seca verja
ni de n'Adam foron nebot e oncle
tan fin'amors cum selha qu'el cor m'intra
non cug fos anc en cors no neis en arma:
on qu'eu estei, fors en plan o dins cambra,
mos cors no's part de lieis tan cum ten l'ongla.

Aissi s'empren e s'enongla
mos cors en lieis cum l'escors'en la verja,
qu'ilh m'es de joi tors e palais e cambra;
e non am tan paren, fraire ni oncle,
qu'en Paradis n'aura doble joi m'arma,
si ja nulhs hom per ben amar lai intra.

Arnaut tramet son chantar d'ongl'e d'oncle
a Grant Desiei, qui de sa verj'a l'arma,
son cledisat qu'apres dins cambra intra.

The firm will that my heart enters
can't be scraped by beak nor by nail
of slanderer who damns with ill speaking his soul;
since I don't dare beat them with bough or rod,
at least, secretly, where I won't have any uncle,
I'll enjoy pleasure, in the garden or in the room.

When I remember the room
where, to my scorn, I know no man enters
-instead they are all to me more than brother or uncle-
I have no limb that doesn't shake, not even the fingernail,
just as a child is before the rod:
such is my fear of not being close to her soul.

Were I close to her body, not to her soul,
were she to let me hide in her room,
since it hurts my heart more than strike of rod
that her servant isn't there where she enters:
I'll be with her what flesh is to nail
and I won't follow advice of friend or of uncle.

Not even the sister of my uncle
did I love more or as much, by this soul,
since, as the finger is close to the nail,
if she pleases, I want to be to her soul:
of me can do the love that my heart enters
more with its will than a strong man with a frail rod.

Since when flourished the withered rod
and from Adam sprung nephew and uncle,
a love as good as the one that my heart enters
I don't think has ever been in any body or soul:
wherever I am, out in the plains or in a room,
my heart doesn't part from her more than a nail.

So clings and is fixed, like with nail,
my heart to her like the bark to the rod,
she is to me tower, palace and room;
and I don't love as much parent, brother or uncle,
and in Paradise will have double joy my soul,
if anyone there for good-loving enters.

Arnaut sends forth this song of uncle and nail
to Great Desire, which of his rod holds the soul,
a framework-song which, learned, the room enters.

Note: this is the first sextain in the history of literature. If you aren't familiar with the importance this form has achieved since, you are welcome to read the related information in the prosody guide. Unfortunately, in order to keep the end-words in place, one is forced to use extremely awkward English. I apologise to the readers, and hope they understand.
The music is apocryphal, albeit of troubadouric origin.

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