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Ab leial cor et ab humil talan,
Venc vas Amor per mostrar mos greus mals
Qu'ieu ai sufertz grans e descominals
Per lo dous ris e l'amoros semblan
Que·m fetz midons al prim esgardamen,
Quan pres mon cor e mon fin pessamen
E sui mi mes elh sieu ric senhoratge.

A vos, Amors, vuelh mostrar en chantan
Quo·m pres midons, ni per que, ni ab quals,
Ni on me mes, sos hom fis e leials.
Ab pauc de be sui, pres e malanan
On m'a tengut, senes tot chauzimen
Non sol un an, ans crezatz certamen
Seran complit set ans al prim erbatge.

Tot suavet, Amors, mi venc denan
Mostran els huelhs gais semblans e cabals
Et ab merce, quar non es hom carnals
Que ja pogues desviar mon talan
Per lo sieu ris que·m fes tan doussamen
Que·m fon avis merce m'agues breumen:
Car m'o cugei, conosc que fis folhatge.

Qu'ieu la triei, segon lo mieu semblan,
Per la melhor de las autras reials,
Et a tengut mon cors en sos ostals
Ab son ric pretz sobre·ls autres prezan.
Si quo·l solelhs sobr'autr'alumnamen
Nos ren clardat, be·n puesc dir eissamen
Qu'ilh es clardatz e rent alumenatge.

Lo dous cossir del belh cors benestan
Agreuja mout mas dolors e mos mals,
Que de plorar rendon mos huelhs venals,
Per sa beutat que m'es tot jorn denan,
Que per semblan m'auci en pessamen,
Per que conosc qu'aucir m'a planamen,
Si·n breu vas me non domda son coratge.

E doncs, Amors, fessetz per me aitan,
Qu'en ben voler siatz ab me engals,
Que·m destrengatz midons d'aitan sivals
Que·l sapcha bo, e m'en fassa semblan,
Quar ieu l'am mais de nulha ren viven;
Et avetz mi fag algr' e jauzen
Qan ieu de lieis aurai pres senhoratge.

A Mon Dezir t'en vai, chanson, breumen,
E di·l, s·il plai, que per son chauzimen,
Li sapcha bo que ieu l'am d'agradatge.

With a faithful heart and with a humble attitude
I come towards Love to show the grievous ills
I have suffered, [for they are] great and extraordinary,
for the sweet smile and amorous semblance
my lady gave me when we first exchanged glances
when she took my heart and my faithful thoughts
and I put myself under her rich suzerainty.

To you, Love, I want to show, by singing,
how my lady took me, and why, and with which aids
and where I, his faithful and loyal servant, stand.
I have little good: captured and wretched,
I have been held, without any regards,
not merely a year but, in truth, believe me,
it will be seven years when the leaves sprout again.

Sweetly, Love, she came before me
displaying, in her eyes, joyous and perfect expressions
with mercy; for there is no man born of woman
who can sway my devotion
because of the smile she gave me, and was so sweet
that I believed she would soon have mercy on me:
but having believed that, I admit, was foolish.

For I chose her, according to my impression,
as the best of the other royals,
and she has held my heart among her possessions
with her rich virtue, which outshines the others':
just as the Sun, above all other radiance
gives us clarity, I can say equally
that she is clarity and gives radiance.

The sweet awareness of her beautiful shapely body
much worsens my pains and my ills,
which make my eyes used to weeping
for her beauty, which is before me all day:
and her looks thus kill me in my imagination,
for I know she has simply killed me
unless she gives me her heart in short.

Well, then, Love, do this at least:
be my peer in good will
and force my lady, at the very least,
to approve, and show me she does,
that I love her more than any living being;
and you'd have made me joyous and happy
when I'll have been taken as her liege.

Go quickly, song, to My Desire,
and tell her, if she likes, through her choice,
to find it good that I love her with all my desire.

Note: Mouzat, with a slightly different spelling, attributes this poem to Gaucelm Faidit.