| prosody | miscellaneous |
Ara·m so del tot conquis, Si que de pauc me sove, C'oblidat n'ai gaug e ris E plor e dol e feunia; E no·i faz semblan trop bel, Ni crei -- tant ai manentia -- Que res, mas Dieus, me capdel. Car ges per mon sen no cre, Ni per prec ni per gragel, Qu'eu poges aver per re Ni conquerer tal amia Si Dieus, a cui la grazis, No·m n'ages mes en la via Et a leis bon cor assis. Pregarai mais de novel Que no suill de viel servis; Car dat m'a en luoc sembel Lo plus d'aquo que·l queria; E sai per que·m det tan be: Car me conoc ses bauzia Vas leis qui·m retenc ab se. A leis tajnh amars tan fis, Per que Dieus l'autrejet me; C'ad home qui la traïs No volc dar la sejnhoria, Ni que ja·l fezes revel: Qu'ilh non deu esser traya, Tan val -- mais trop ho espel! Car s'eu dic so que·s cove De leis que mon cor sagel Totz lo mons sap, per ma fe, Cals es; car tota gen cria E sap, et es pron devis Cals es la meiller que sia! Per qu'eu la laus et enquis. Mon cor ai eu tan isnel Que a penas m'en sofris; C'amors me pueg'el cervel, Si que cor ai que lei dia A totz – tals talens m'en ve –; Mas Temers e Cortesia E dreg Ben-Amar m'en te. Que si·m volia ses ris, Si ri mon cor de joy ple; Qu'esser cug em paradis Can de midons, c'aixi·m lia Que vas autra no·m apel, Auzi parlar ses folia, Sol c'om de leis me favel. Per que es molt gran merce Qui·m mentau neis lo castel On jai. Mas no sai per que Es pros qui no·n a paria Ab leis, c'ans que·l fos aclis No sai per que ren valia, Mas pel be c'ar n'ai, m'es vis. Que ges lanza ni cairel Non tem, ni brans asseris, Can bai ni mir son anel; E si·n faz gran galardia Ben o dej faire jasse, E s'om m'o ten a fulia No sap d'amor co·s mante. Muira ogan ab coutel Qui non tema ma fulia, O ab peir'o ab cairel. Joglar, Dieus que·us fetz tan be E·us creix vostre pretz quec dia Vos capdel si co·us cove. |
Now I am all overcome so that I recall very little, for I have forgotten, out of it, joy and laughter, and tears and grief and sadness; and the outlook isn't too good, nor do I believe – since I have such an asset – that anything but god protects me. For I don't believe at all that, through plea or through threat, I could achieve, by all means, or conquer such a lover if god, whom I thank for her, hadn't set me on the [right] path and put a kind heart in her. I shall pray more for a new grace than I used to for the old one; for he has given me a taste the rest of which I sought of him; and I know why he bestowed such a grace on me: for he knows I am without deceit towards her who keeps me as her own. Such a love befits her that god granted her to me: for to a man who would betray her, he wouldn't grant suzerainty, nor would he keep her for his own revel: she wasn't meant to be betrayed, so valuable she is – but I'm letting out too much. For, if I say about her what is fitting to remain sealed in my heart, everybody would know, by my troth, who she is; for all people cry and know, and it is quite obvious, which is the best there is. This is why I praise her and pleaded her. I have such a reckless heart that I can hardly abstain; for love rides my thoughts, so that I have a mind to extol her for everybody – such is the desire that assails me – but Respect and Nobility and righteous Good Love hold me back. For, although she wished me not [to show] my cheer, my heart cheers, full of joy; for I imagine I am in paradise when I hear anybody talk sensibly about my lady, (who tethers me so much that I don't address any other woman) barely because he tells me about her. Thus, it is a great gift when one barely mentions the castle where she abides. But I can't see how anyone who isn't connected to her is of any account, for, before I was her subject, I don't know why I was worth anything, except for the good I would have of her. Never a lance nor a bolt scares me, nor does a steely sword when I kiss or regard her ring; and if I am quite a gascon about it I ought indeed to be so; and if one thinks I am a fool, he doesn't know the ways of love. Let anyone who does not respect my folly die of knife, of stone or of bolt. Joglar, may god, who did so much for you, and who increases your worth each day, guide you as befits you. |