Main PageTroubadours' ListingMore Works by Cadenet

The prosody guide is available as a book. Click here for details.

A home meilz non vai
De mi, segon qu'eu cre,
E dirai vos de que:
De pauc de joi qu'eu ai
Aus esser benananz
E mi sai esjauzir;
Que an<c> non sap marrir
Se·m venc destrics ni danz,
Anz saup pensar aitan
Don m'alegres ogan.

Nuill amador non sai
Que, s'er' en loc de me,
Que dones a gran re
Tan com eu fatz de jai.
Tan mi platz jois e chanz
Quan vei las flors venir
Donc me cug enrequir;
Et es us conort[z] granz
De flors, quan bon temps an,
Que ja non failliran.

Homn' i a que s'estrai
Cant a servit, dese,
Se·l guierdo no·i ve.
Ma lo savis retrai
C'us jors val mais c'us anz.
E qui prent a fugir
Can se deu enantir
Ne·ll es negus enanz
D'azo qu' a fag denan,
Anz a perdut aitan.

Ja qui so que deu fai,
Non faillira per re
Que no ll' en prenga be.
Eu que proat lo ai,
Sai que bos es affanz
Et esfortz de servir
Per respieg de jauzir.
E jois val mil dos tanz
Qu' es conquis ab affan
Que l'autre joi non fan.

Pros domna, talan n'ai
Qu'eu vos prec per merce,
Car sai c'a vos conve,
Que non fassatz, se·us plai,
Sen lo cor lo<s> semblanz
Que·m fait<z>, can vos remir,
Que, quan me cug partir,
E lors s'i mescl' enjanz.
Esgardatz en de dan
Vos e mi e mon chan!

Domn'ab fin cor verai,
Lo gaug es que·m mante
Can de vos me sove.
Que, ca·m parti de lai
Ab plazers benestanz:
"Merce, quan deu partir?"
Mas, quan m'en voill venir,
Uns enfanz de dos anz
Enanz ser' atrestan,
Si·m segues mon talan.

Lauzengier, ges grazir
No·us puosc, ni no·us sai dir
Las bella<s> honors granz
Que vos mi fatz tot l'an
A mi et a mon chan!

No man has it better
than me, I do believe,
and I'll tell you about what:
in that little joy I have
I dare be satisfied
and I can rejoyce;
and I can't feel bereft
if I come to embarrassment and harm,
rather, I always know how to think
of something to be happy about thereafter.

I don't know of any lover
who, were he in my place,
would give so plentifully
as I [give] joy.
So much I like the cheer and song
when I see the flowers blooming
that I think I'm getting rich;
and there is much comfort
with flowers, when their time has come:
that they will not, ever, fail.

There are those who withdraw
when they have served, at once,
if they see no reward.
But the wise repeats to himself
that a day is worth [sometimes] more than a year,
and he who starts fleeing
when he should advance
draws no advantage
from what he has done before:
instead, he has lost as much.

Indeed, he who does what he must
will not fail in anything
whence good comes to him.
I, who have tried it,
know that worrying is good
and [good] is the toil of serving
in view of rejoycing.
And joy that is conquered
with worry is worth a thousand time
all other joy.

Precious lady, I would like
to beg you for mercy,
for I know that it befits you,
not to make, if you please,
the empty pretences
you make when I regard you;
which, when I think I [can] leave,
are suddenly mixed with deceit.
Guard thus from harm
you, me and my singing!

Lady of true, precious heart,
you are the joy that sustains me
when I remember you.
For, when I left from there [to come to you]
[I said], with perfect manners,
"Prithee, when must I leave?"
But, when I want to get back,
a two-year old child
would advance as quickly,
if I followed my inclinations.

Slanderers, I have no words
to thank you, nor can I express
the great and beautiful honour
you do me all year round,
[both] to me and to my singing.