prosody | miscellaneous |
Aissi mou Un sonet nou, On ferm e latz Chansson leu, Pos vers plus greu Fan sorz dels fatz. Q'er er vist, Pos tan m'es quist, Cum sui senatz; Si cum sòl, Fora mos cors vesatz; Mas chamjar l'ai pos quex o vòl. Tot m'es nou Qan vei, si·m mou Fin'amistatz; Far posc greu – ve·us que dic leu – Mas voluntatz, Tant ai quist, Car ai ben vist C·um poja gratz; C'ab mo vòl For'ieu fort aut pojatz! Anquer es mos gratz lai on sòl. Tant ai prim Mon cor qand rim Que·ls adiratz Tem de loing; Mas de pres poing, Cum fos amatz, Per cel joi Don fals ni croi Non an solatz – Trop derrenc! Car dic q'ieu l'am; qu'assatz Fai si·m sofre q'ieu la·m sovenc. Amors, rim Co·s vuoilla prim; Pos m'etz de latz En que poing? C'ab colp de loing Son pres nafratz; Tot m'es croi Qan d'autre joi Sol me tocatz. Si no·us venc. Amors, mala fui natz! Que puosc'amar e mens ric renc! Ges un sou Non pretz, qan plou Si·m sui moillatz, Freig ni neu; Tant ai pes breu Del joi qe·m platz; Mas, per Crist, Pos mi fai trist Cant pes iratz: "cor ai fòl C'ar am sol ses solatz." Aissi torn mon bon pens en dòl. Era·m plou! Qe·m fara sou Trichan ses datz; Et, en breu, Vei cazer neu. Anz es estatz! Tant ai trist Mon cor, per Crist, Totz sui camjatz – Q'er ai dòl Et er ai gaug viatz; Ve·us m'en savi e ve·us m'en fòl. Qand nos vim, Sempr'es al cim Mos cors ausatz. Puois d'als soing Non ac, ni·s joing Vas autre latz; Per que·m coi? C'alres m'enoi: "Trop l'am – non fatz!" Lai la tenc Eu tant cant al cor platz, C'anc pos la vic d'als no·m sovenc. Sus d'aut cim Fui quand nos vim, Jos davallatz Si no·s joing So dont ai soing; Mas ni guidatz Lui n'ennoi. Amors, pro·m coi! D'ella penssatz? No·us sovenc Anc de las mas mi datz La mort, c'ar vezetz qe·m sostenc? Trop mi tenc Q'en lai non sui anatz Saber d'amor s'anc l'en sovenc. No·m sovenc Anc d'ela – so sapchatz – Mas una vetz qe·l vi e·m tenc. |
Thus I begin a new little tune in which I enclose and bind a plain song, for more difficult verses make dunces deaf. Now it will show (since they ask me so much), how sensible I am: as usual, if my heart were merry; but I shall change it, since everyone wishes so. Everything I see is new to me; so much a fine affair stirs me; I can hardly have – I speak plainly, see? – it my way, so much have I sought; for I have indeed seen how her favour uplifts me; if I had it my way, I would be uplifted rather high! but her favour is still where it used to be. So sweet is my heart when it flares that I fear the hostile people from afar; but near at hand, oh! to be loved through that joy that doesn't please the false and wicked! I am straying too far! For I say I love her; and it is enough for me if she bears with the fact that I recall her. Love, I flare as excellently as anyone; since you are at my side, why do I strive? for I have fallen, wounded by a blow from afar; I find the mere mention of other joys wicked. If she hasn't come to you, Love, I was born in an evil hour; may she be able to love in a less noble rank. I don't give a damn about the rain and being soaked, nor about the cold and snow as long as I have a brief thought of the joy I like; but, by Christ, it makes me then bleak when I sadly consider "I have a foolish heart for I only love alone and without solace" Thus I turn my pleasant thought into grief. Now it pours on me! It would seem sunny to me in a flash and, in a moment, I see falling snow. Quite the opposite, it is Summer! So sad is my heart, by Christ, that I am a total lunatic – for now I'm in pain and now suddenly joyous; see how it turns me now wise, now mad. Since we saw each other, my heart is always uplifted to the top. Since I had no other care, nor do I turn elsewhere, why am I afflicted? For something else bothers me: 'I love her too much – not quite!' I keep her in my heart as much as it pleases it, for since it has seen her, I can't recall anything else. Up, at a great height I was when we met, [I'll be] cast down if that which makes me anxious doesn't happen; but even if instructed properly, I annoy her. Love, I suffer greatly! Are you thinking about her? Don't you ever remember that you are bringing me death because you see that I'm resisting? I restrain myself too much for I haven't gone there to ascertain whether she recalls love. I can't recall anything about her – know that – except once when I saw her and she held me. |