prosody | miscellaneous |
Si'm fos Amors de joi donar tan larga cum ieu sui lieis d'aver ferm cor e franc, ja de mos jorns no'm calgra far embarc, qu'ieu am tan aut qu'espers me pueg e'm plomba; e quan m'albir cum es de pertz al som mout m'en am mais quar anc l'auzei voler, qu'eras sai ieu que mos cors e mos sens me faran far, lur grat, rica conquesta. E si be'm fas long esper no'm embarga qu'en tan ric loc me sui mes e m'estanc don si belh dig mi tenon de joi larc; e segrai tan qu'om me port a la tomba, qu'ieu no sui ges selh que lais aur per plom; e pus en lieis non tanh qu'om rei esmer tan li serai sers e obediens tro de s'amor, s'il platz, baizan me vesta. Us bos respeitz mi reven e'm descarga dels greus sospirs don me dolon mei flanc quar en patz prenc l'afan e'l suffr'e'l parc pus de beutat son las auras en comba, que la genser par qu'aia pres un tom plus bas de lieis, qui la ve, e es ver, quar tuit bom aip, pretz e saber e sens renhon en lieis, q'us non es meinhs ni'n resta. E pus tan val, cujatz doncs que s'esparga mos deziriers, ni que's forc ni s'esbranc? No serai sieus ni mieus si ja m'en parc, si m'aiut selh que's mostret en colomba! qu'en tot lo mon non es hom de nulh nom tan finamen dezir gran ben aver cum ieu fas lieis, mas ten m'en nonchalens pels devinans cui dans del drutz es festa. Fals lauzengiers, fuoc las lenguas vos arga e que perdatz ams los huelhs de mal cranc, que per vos son estrag caval e marc qu'amor baiassatz qu'a pauc del tot no tomba: confonda'us Dieus!-e sai vos dire com, qe'us faitz als drutz maldir e viltener; mals astres es qui'us ten desconnoissens que piegers es qui plus vos amonesta. Na Mielhs-de-be, ja no'm siatz avarga, qu'en vostr'amor me trobaretz tot blanc, qu'ieu non ai cor ni poder qu'em descarc del ferm voler que n'es pars de retomba, que quan m'esvelh ni clau los huelhs de som vostre remanc, quan leu ni vau jazer; e no'us cuges que n'abais mos talens: no o fara qu'ara'l sent en la testa. Arnautz a fag e fara loncs atens qu'atenden fai pros hom richa conquesta. |
If love were so bountiful in gifting me with joy as I am to it in having a firm and sincere heart, I wouldn't mind to run my weary days my love's so high that hope lifts and steadies me; and when I ponder how her value's overwhelming much I love that I dared just to want her, since now I know that my heart and my feelings will make me do, as is their use, a bountiful conquest. And I don't care if I have to wait for long because I have reached and hold such a rich place where her fair words keep me full of joy; and I'll keep on until I'm interred, since I'm not one to leave gold for lead; and since there's nothing in her to be improved, I'll be her obedient servant until, kissing, if she pleases, she clothes me in her love. A happy waiting refreshes and relieves me of the heavy sighs that grieve my sides, lightly I get the pain and the suffering, and bear it, since, as far as beauty goes, the others are in a chasm, and the fairest seems to have fallen lower than her, and it is true, to the eye of the one who sees her, since she has all good virtues: knowledge and wisdom reign in her, and none is missing. Since she's so precious, do you think my desire will fade, or part or waste? I won't be hers, nor mine own, if I leave her, let him who showed up in the shape of a dove help me! In all the World there's no man of any name to crave so well a great good like I do her, and I don't care for the slanderers, to whom lover's harm is joy. False slanderers, may fire burn your tongues and may you lose both your eyes to cancer; horses and brands are lost for your cause, you that place love so down that it barely keeps from falling entirely: may God confound you!- and I can tell you why, because you make the lovers curse and hate you; it's an evil star that keeps you ignorant the more you are scolded, the worse you get. Lady Better-Than-Good, don't be loth: you'll find me all hoary and still loving you, since I have neither heart nor strength to free myself from my firm will, which is not like a bowl of glass: when I wake up and when I close my eyes to sleep, I remain yours, as when I rise or lie down; and don't think it'll abate my longing: it won't: I feel it now in my head. Arnaut has waited, and will wait, since by waiting, a wise men achieves a noble victory. |