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Lonc temps ai estat cubertz,
Mas Dieus no vol qu'ieu oimais
Puosca cobrir ma besoigna,
Dont mi ven ira et esglais.
Ez escoutatz, cavallier,
S'a ren ai obs ni mestier.

D'aisso vos fatz ben totz certz:
Qu'aicels don hom es plus gais
Ai perdutz, don ai vergoigna;
E non aus dir qui·ls me trais;
Et ai ben cor vertadier
Car dic tant grand encombrier.

Mas per so sui tant espertz
De dir aisso que er plais
Car voill leu gitar ses poigna
Totz los maritz de pantais
E d'ira e de conssirier,
Don moutz m'en fan semblant nier.

Si·m fatz coindes e degertz
Si·m sui eu flacs e savais
Volpilz (garnitz e ses broigna);
E sui mizels e putnais;
Escars, vilan conduchier,
De totz lo plus croi guerrier.

Per quez es fols adubertz
Totz hom que ia ten a fais
S'ieu cortei -- quar ia m'en loigna? --
Sa moiller, pois dans non nais
Ad el se son ben sobrier
Li mei mal sospir doblier.

Car ia tot non fos desertz
D'aicels, per qu'om pela·l cais,
Tant ai d'als ont me peroigna
-- d'autres avols decs on bais --
Per que domna ab cors entier
No·m deu prezar un dinier.

E si mos chans m'es suferz
Eu chan, qu'enquers no m'en lais;
Pustel'hui sus en sa groigna
A totz marit si·s n'irais
S'ieu tant grant mon dol plenier
Voill cobrir ab alegrier.

A dompnas m'en soi profertz
E datz, per que m'en ven jais;
Si noc'ai poder que i joigna
En jazen, ades engrais
Solament del desirier
E del vezer, qu'als non quier.

La comtessa a Monrosier
Volgra auzis mon gaug entier.

I have been secretive for a long time,
but god doesn't want me to be able
to cover my need anymore,
for which I am sad and afraid.
Now listen, knights,
if I need, or deserve, anything.

I assure you of this:
I have lost (and that shames me)
that which makes one most merry;
and I don't dare say who took it from me;
I have, indeed, a sincere heart,
for I admit such an awkward thing.

But I am in such a hurry
to tell that which I lament
because I want, post-haste, to relieve
all husbands from the fright,
the grief and the worry,
because of which they look at me askance.

Although I act pleasant and gallant,
I am, in fact, emaciated and feral,
a coward, both unarmed or with a breastplate;
and I am leprous and stinking,
a base and stingy host,
the worst warrior of us all.

Therefore he is an obvious fool
whoever is bothered
if I court – why ever does he drive me away from her? –
his wife; for harm doesn't come
to him if my doubled, wretched
sighs are even greater.

For even if I were not deprived
of that because of which one tears his beard away,
I have so much more to preen myself about
– I have further bad habits galore –
so that no lady in her good mind
would think I'm worth a farthing.

And if my singing is tolerated,
I['ll] sing, for I don't give up yet;
every husband has a pimple
on his snout if he gets angry
if I wish to cover with gaiety
this all-pervading grief of mine.

I have offered, and given, myself
to ladies, and it is a source of joy;
if I never have power to add to it
while in bed, I am nourished
merely by desiring
and seeing, since I ask for nothing else.

Let the countess of Montrosier
agree to hear my thorough joy.