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Az ops d'una chanso faire
Ses plus, ai bona razo?
Pero si dic ieu que no
Sui amatz ni sui amaire.
Quar Amors m'a donat poder
D'amar, e, si m'en vueill tener,
Atressi poder que m'en lais:
Ve·us tot lo joi c'aurai huei mais;
Que far puesc a ma volontat,
E no·m ten destreg ni forsat.

Ara·m vueill d'amar estraire
E partir d'amor, e so
Mal pagatz, dirai vos ho,
E de midons cais clamaire.
Anc no·m fes amor ni plazer
Don ieu li deia grat saber.
E si fui tant per s'amor gais!
E si·m donet e pueis m'estrais
Aco eis que m'avia dat,
Razos es qu'ela·n perda·l grat.

Joi et ira fan repaire
De mi en aital faiso
Que soven m'es mal e bo
So que m'auziretz retraire.
Bon m'es quar es a mon voler:
Atressi mal mi deu saber
Quar so que plus volria·m lais.
Aisi mi ten ira e jais
Ades d'una guiza temprat:
Ni trop jauzen ni trop irat.

Segurs fora de maltraire
Meils que anc negus non fo,
S'ela m'agues dat lo do
Que dona non pot desfaire.
Ieu non cugera ja vezer
L'ora que pogues tan voler
Com de leis feira un sol bais.
E per aiso, ni meins ni mais,
[Que] non mas que sieu m'a clamat
Pro·m cuj'aver guazardonat!

S'anc mos erguells mi fes faire
Vas vos, dona, faillizo,
Per merce·us en quier perdo,
E que no·us voillatz estraire
D'amar mi, c'avetz en poder
Per far trastot vostre voler.
Don'ab bels digs francs e verais,
Non crezas lauzengiers savais!
Mon cor aves pres e liat
Per far la vostra volontat.

Lauzengier, de vos mi lau mais
Que de cela per qu'ieu soi gais,
Quar ela m'a de si lonhat,
E vos gent cubert e celat.

When it comes to writing a song,
and nothing else, do I have good grounds?
I wonder because I'm neither
loved nor am I [a] lover.
For Love gave me the power
to love and, if I want to renounce it,
also the power to do without it:
and this is all the joy I'll ever have:
that I can do as I wish
and he doesn't keep me imprisoned or forced.

Now I want to extricate myself from loving
and depart from love, and I am
badly repaid, I have to tell you,
and I am almost complaining about my lady.
Never did she produce any love or pleasure
for which I should be grateful to her.
And how was I happy for her love!
And if she gives me and then takes back
the same thing she had given,
it is normal that she loses the gratitude.

Joy and sadness take residence
in me in such a manner
that I often [both] like and hate
what you'll hear me sing.
I like that it is my own will:
likewise, I have to hate
that what I desire the most leaves me.
Thus joy and sadness keep me
now, in a way, balanced:
neither too joyous nor too sad.

I would be safe from suffering
better than anybody ever was
had she given me the gift
that no woman can undo.
Me, I don't think I'll ever see
the time when she could as much as wish
that I'd get a single kiss from her.
And because of this, no more, no less,
that she has merely claimed me as hers,
she considers me rewarded!

Even if my pride made it so,
lady, that I failed you in any way,
for mercy's sake, I beg you to forgive me,
and that you do not renounce
loving me, whom you hold in your power
to do with exactly as you please.
Lady of plain and true words,
do not believe the savage slanderers!
You have captured and bound my heart
to do your will.

Slanderers, I praise you more
than her of which I'm fond,
for she has driven me away,
while you kindly have covered and hidden me.