The Democratic Republic of Poetry
Raimbaut d'AurengaTroubadoursProsodyHelpAnamorphisms

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A mon vers dirai chansso
Ab leus motz ez ab leu so
Ez en rima vil'e plana
(Puois aissi son encolpatz
Qan fatz avols motz als fatz),
E dirai so q'en cossir –
Qui qe·m n'am mais o·m n'azir!

D'amar tornon en tensso
Cill on anc Amors non fo
Plus q'en mi obra vilana,
E ditz qecs "i·en teing los datz";
En sai mais que nuills hom natz,
Perqe·m platz a devezir
D'aco q'eu a moutz n'aug dir.

E si torn en ochaizo
Cel dig qe·m fai plus fello,
No m'o tengatz ad ufana;
Car per trops es autrejatz;
C'alz mais aug dir (e no·m platz)
Que dompna se vol aucir
Que ric home deign' auzir.

Qecs a dreig que se·n razo,
Mas vers venz qui be·l despo,
Ez ieu dic paraula sana:
Que mieills deu esser amatz
Rics hom francs ez enseignatz
Qu·il pot pro e bel chausir
Per dompna q'aus precs soffrir.

Mas dompna c'am' a lairo,
Ab semblan de traïzo,
Non deu jes esser autana;
Mas en bas luoc se solatz
Si que sia sos coingatz
E qe·i puosc' endevenir
La nuoich e·l jorn ses dezir.

Anc dompna, qui q'en sermo,
Per nuill ric home non fo,
Ni tornet de pretz, sotana;
Ez ieu sai, ez es vertatz:
Deu pros cavalliers privatz,
Vista tal dompna,·s delir;
C'om se·n degra sepeillir.

E dirai en mais? – ieu no!
Ar en aquesta sazo!
Mas si negus hom si vana
C'ab me se·n contrast'iratz
Adoncs m'auziretz viätz
Tals motz per me ses mentir
C'om non poiria cobrir.

Dieus retenc lo cel el tro
A sos ops ses compaigno,
Ez es paraula certana,
C'a mi donz laisset en patz
C'a seignoriu vas totz latz,
Qe·l mons totz li deu servir
E sos volers obezir.

Ja de mort ni de preiso
No·m gart Dieus, ni gaug no·m do
Si mi donz, qe·m te ses cana,
No val pro mais c'autr'assatz,
Segon q'eu cre; e sapchatz
Que totz hom que la remir
S'enten en lieis al partir.

Dompna, ieu vos dei grazir
So q'ieu sai ben far e dir.

E si·m datz ab lonc desir
Lo ben qe·m degratz offrir.

I shall call my verse 'song',
with easy words and easy melody
and in a base and simple rhyme
(for I am so accused
when I sing difficult words to the fool)
and I shall say what is in my heart,
whoever may hate me or love me for it.

Those in whom love never was,
not any more than a base deed [ever was] in me,
have taken to disputing about loving
and each claims "I hold the dice!"
I know more about it than anyone ever
so that it pleases me to speak
of what I hear many people say.

And if I dispute
what irks me most
don't think of me as boastful,
for it is purported by too many:
for I hear most people say (and I don't like it)
that a lady seeks to kill her [reputation]
who deigns to listen to a nobleman.

Everyone has a right to discuss it
but he who exposes the matter well wins the truth
and I say sound words:
that a woman who listens to an entreaty
should rather love
an honest, well-bred gentleman
who can choose nobly, and to her advantage.

But a woman who loves furtively,
and makes it look like treason
ought not to be haughty;
let her find her pleasure in a lowly place,
with her brother-in-law, even,
so that he might find satisfaction
night and day, without yearning.

Whoever may preach about it, never was
a woman lowered or swayed
from worth by a gentleman;
that I know, and it is true:
a worthy knight, intimate with her,
at the sight of such a woman should undo himself,
for one would have to go to his grave for it.

And shall I say more? Not I,
not now!
But if anyone boasts
that he'd argue with me in a raging dispute
so will you hear from me, right away,
words, in truth, such
as one wouldn't be able to hide.

God kept heaven and the firmament
for himself, with no companion,
and it is a certain fact,
for he left, peacefully, to my lady
to dominate everywhere else.
For all the world ought to serve her
and obey her wish.

Neither from death nor from imprisonment
let god guard me, nor ever give me joy
if my lady, who keeps me without white hair,
isn't worth much more than the others,
as I believe. And know
that whoever beholds her
is in love with her when he departs.

Lady, I must thank you
for what I can do and say well.

And if you give me, after long desiring,
the treasure the you ought to offer me...