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Assaz m'es belh
Que de novelh
Fassa parer
De mon saber
Tot plan als prims sobresabens
Que van comdan
Qu'ab sen d'enfan
Dic e fatz mos captenemens;
E sec mon cor
E·n mostri for
Tot aisso don ilh m'es cossens.

Qui qu'en favelh,
Lo m'es pro belh
De mon saber:
Qu'en sai mielhs ver
(sitot no suy mout conoyssens)
Que·l trop parlan
Que van comdan
"Folhs es. – non es. – si es sos sens".
Qu'ar tost salh for
Ab belh demor
Gen motz leugiers, cortes, valens.

Ab sen novelh
Dic e favelh
Mon saber ver
E·l fas parer
Lay on tanh que sia parvens;
Que son enfan
Li mielhs parlan
Vas me; e sai qui·m n'es guirens,
Ab que·m demor
Gen dins mon cor
Si que·l dir no·m passa las dens.

Don d'amar dic:
Qu'am si ses tric
Lieys qu'amar deg,
Que·l miels adreg
(s'eron sert cum l'am finamens)
M'irion sai
Preguar hueymai
Que·ls essenhes cum aprendens
De ben amar;
E neus preguar
M'en venrion dompnas cinc cens.

Ben ai cor ric
Plus qu'ieu non dic
E tan adreg
Que ducx ni reg
No prez, si no·m prez'eissamens;
A cuy no·m play,
Ieu suy de say;
Et amarai mos bevolens.
No vuelh preguar,
Que miels m'er car
Q'om mi prec, qu'ieu prec manhtas gens.

L'enojos tric,
Sian del ric
Sobeiran reg
Maudig, e deg
Dels janglos parliers maldizens!
Gic m'en hueymai,
Que·l dir no·m plai
Tan m'es lur mentaure cozens!
Que s'il tug car
Meron, amar
No·ls poiria, que·l cor m'en vens.

Pauc sap d'amar
Qui tem preguar
Deu, qu'el maldia los manens.

E·t voill pregar,
Vers, ab diz car
Que lai en Urgel te prezens,

Ab talen car
Si·m fai amar.
E·l bon esper qu'eu n'ai guirens!

I find it quite nice
that, again,
I may display
my learning
quite openly to the choicest know-it-alls
who go spreading rumours
that it is with the wits of a child
that I conduct myself in words and deeds;
and I follow my heart
and show forth
all she gives me permission for.

Whoever may discuss it,
I am quite pleased
with my own learning:
for, albeit I am not very knowing,
I know the truth about it better
than the overanalysers
who go around speculating
"He is crazy" – "He isn't"– "That's what he means".
For I presently blurt,
with fair disportment,
noble, light, courtly and precious words.

With a new wisdom
I state and discuss
my true learning
and make it appear
there where it behoves it to be apparent;
for the best speakers
are children
compared to me; and I know who the guarantor of it is,
albeit the secret rests
safely within my heart
so that the revelation shan't come out of my mouth.

So I talk about loving:
for I love so guilelessly
her whom I must love,
that the most skilled lovers,
if they knew how subtly I love her,
would come here
and beg me
to take them as apprentices
of good loving;
and five hundred ladies,
too, would come begging me for it.

Indeed, my heart is richer
than I reveal
and so upright
that I don't care
for a duke or king who doesn't consider me his equal;
I remain aloof
with the ones I don't like;
and I shall love those who wish me well.
I will not pray,
for I prefer
to be prayed to, rather than praying many people.

May the hateful games
be cursed
by the sovereign king
along with the sins
of the ill-speaking, gossiping slanderers.
I'll change the subject
for I don't like to treat it,
so much the mention of it is painful.
For even if they were all to take
vengeance, I couldn't
love them, for my heart overcomes me.

He knows little about love
who is afraid to pray
god to curse the parvenus.

And I wish to pray you,
verse of precious words,
to show there in Urgel

with dear intentions,
so to make me loved.
And I expect good, for I have a guarantee of it.