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Ans que sim reston de branchas
sec ni despuelhat de fuelha
farai, c'Amors m'o comanda,
breu chanson de razon lonia,
que gen m'a ducx de las artz de s'escola:
tan sai que'l cors fas restar de suberna
e mos buous es pro plus correns que lebres.

Ab razos coindas et franchas
m'a mandat qu'ieu no m'en tuelha
ni autra no serva ni'n blanda
pus tan fai qu'ab si m'aconia,
e'm ditz que flors no'il semble de viola
que's camja leu si tot noquas iverna,
anz per s'amor sia laurs o genebres.

Ditz "Tu, qu'alhors non t'estanchas
per autra que't denh ni't cuelha;
totz plaitz esquiv'e desmanda
sai e lai qui que't somonia,
que's clama folh qui se meteis afola;
e tu no far falha don hom t'esquerna
mas apres Dieu lieis honors e celebres.

E tu c'o aus, non t'afranchas
per respieg qu'amar no't vuelha:
sec, s'il te fui ni't fai guanda,
que greu er qu'om no'i aponia
qui s'afortis de preiar e no cola,
qu'en passera part las palutz d'Uzerna
Mon Pelegrin lai on cor en jos Ebres."

S'ieu n'ai passatz pons ni planchas
per lieis, cujatz qu'ieu m'en duelha?
Non eu, qu'ab joi es vianda
me sap far mezina conia
baizan tenen, e'l cors, si tot si vola,
no's part de lieis qui'l capdel'e'l governa.
Cors, on qu'ieu an, de lieis no't luins ni't sebres!

De part Nil entro c'a Sanchas
genser no's vest ni's despuelha,
e sa beatatz es tan granda
que semblaria'us messonia;
be'm vai d'Amor, que m'abrassa e m'acola,
e no'm frezis freitz ni gels ni buerna,
ni'm fai doler mals ni gota ni ni febres.

Sieus es Arnautz del sim tro en la sola
e no vuelh ges ses lieis aver Lucerna
ni'l senhoriu del renc per on cort Ebres.

Before the tops of the branches are left
withered and barren of leaves,
I'll write, at Love's behest,
a short song about a long matter,
since I was well taught in the arts of its school:
I know so much that I can stay the running flow,
and my oxes are much quicker than hares.

With honest and beautiful words
she has bid me not to turn away
nor to serve and flatter another one
the way she so likes me to do,
and tells me not to resemble the violet flower
that changes fast, even when it isn't at all cold,
instead, for her love's sake, to be like laurel or juniper.

She says:"You, care not to settle elsewhere,
for another one that cares for you;
all dates skip and delay
whoever and wherever calls you,
because he's a fool who harms himself;
and don't fail so to be scolded
but after God, only her celebrate and praise.

And you, who hear, do not free yourself
telling that she won't love you:
go on, if you she flees and shuns,
hardly a man can fail his aims
that insists in pleading and does not give up:
he'd pass safe through the swamps of Uzerna
to the Pilgrim's Mount, where Ebres runs and jousts."

If I crossed bridges and planks
for her, d'you think I complain?
Not I, that from joy only, without any food,
know how to mix a joyous drug,
kissing and hugging, and my heart, even if it flies,
does not part from her that keeps and rules it.
Heart, wherever I go, don't move nor part from her!

From where is Nile to Saintes
a kinder one does not dress nor undress,
and her beauty's so great
that it would seem false;
Love's good to me, that has her kiss and hug me,
and nor cold nor ice nor hoar can chill me,
nor makes me ache pain nor disease nor fever.

Hers is Arnautz from the top to the ground
and doesn't want to have without her Luzerne
nor the kingdom through wich the Ebres flows.