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No sai qual cosselh mi prenda
Totz sui esbahitz
Si mos astres m'es falhitz
O no, tan fas long' atenda;
Qu'ab dir de non mi mescla belh semblan
Selha cui am, e d'aisso vau doptan.
Qual creirai mielhs doncs: o so que l'aug dir
O·l belh semblant que·m fai quan la remir?
Que·l belhs semblant mi lonha de l'esmai
E·l dirs de no mi torna sempres lai.

Ges no cugetz qu'ieu entenda
Per lo no que·m ditz
Qu'ilh ja sia enjanairitz!
Ni·s tanh ges qu'ieu la·n reprenda.
Quar donas son costumadas d'aitan,
Qui las enquier, d'escondir lur talan.
Pero li huelh no volon ges mentir;
Ni no cujetz que ja dona los vir
Tant doussament mas vas so que li plai.
Doncs creire dei lo bel semblan que·m fai.

Ben sui folhs qu'en lieis m'entenda,
Que on plus s'esditz
Et on plus sui afortitz,
Et ilh plus fort si defenda.
S'ilh a faisso plazen ni ben estan
Ni dous esgart, ieu, per so, que·lh deman?
Ilh non pot ges sa faisso desmentir
Ni son semblant, per mi, de se partir.
Fas i que fols, quar l'am? Ieu non o sai,
Mas semblan m'es segon so que·m retrai.

Ar cre que·m fari' emenda
S'ieu er' escaritz
Ab lieis, qu'us esgartz voutitz
Mi fai cum mielhs m'i emprenda.
A que ni cum me vau desconortan?
Dei creire doncs qu'ella fassa enjan
Vas si eissa per cor de mi trahir?
D'enjan, per ver, no·s poiri'elh esdir,
Pois ab semblant d'amor vas si m'atrai,
Si·m falhia del tot mas no·lh eschai.

Gran paor ai no·i mesprenda
Quar sui tan arditz
Que de lieis no·m sui partitz.
E que merces no·i dissenda
E que no·m do re d'aisso qu'ieu·lh deman,
Estara·lh mal? No, quar m'o dis denan.
Mas ieu m'esfors per so de lieis servir
Et ilh vol o; e gart se de falhir!
Que gazardon rendre lai on s'eschai
Es genta res, e laia on s'estrai.

Ab que sos rics pretz s'estenda
E que si' auzitz
No·lh cal s'ieu n'estauc marritz
Ni cum que·s an ma fazenda.
Qu'a lieis es bo qu'ieu traia tot l'afan,
Et a mi plai quan la puesc trair' enan;
A lieis es bo quan me pot far languir
Et a mi plai quan la puesc enantir;
A lieis non cal de me can mal me vai,
Et a mi plai de lieis quan be·lh estai.

De Marselha, la comtessa·us puesc dir
Qu'en Alvernhe fai son fin pretz grazir.
Et honret me la soa merces lai;
Mas lauzengier m'onron atretan sai.

Pros regina, ab sen vos faitz grazir,
Et ab honor lauzar et enantir,
Et ab bon pretz et ab belh solatz gai
Vos faitz grazir, e ben dirs aissi·us vai.

I don't know what to believe,
I am all confused
whether my stars have abandoned me
or not, so long I have waited;
for I get "no" mixed with alluring looks
from the one I love, and this makes me uncertain.
What shall I rather believe: that which I hear her say
or the enticing looks she sends when I regard her?
For the enticing look takes me away from despair
and the saying "no" pulls me back in.

Do not ever believe that I imagine that,
because she tells me no,
she now is a deceiver!
Nor is it fitting at all that I reproach her.
For ladies have this habit,
to hide their intentions, no matter who entreats them.
But the eyes do not ever want to lie;
nor do believe that a lady turns them
so sweetly towards [anything] but that which pleases her.
Therefore, I must believe the enticing looks that she sends me.

I'm such a fool to read things in her,
for the more she refuses
and the more I persist
the stronger she defends herself.
If she has pleasant and gracious manners
and sweet glances, what do I demand of it?
She can't ever belie her manners
nor her looks for my sake, nor abandon them.
Is it then foolish of me to love her? I don't know
but, to me, it looks like she responds to me.

Now I think I'll make amends
with her, if I'm growing
fonder of her, for she sends
lustful glances to better ensnare me.
Why and how, then, do I go despairing?
Must I believe, then, that she belies
herself for the sake of betraying me?
Verily, she wouldn't be able to deny deceit
(for she draws me towards herself with the appearence of love)
if she failed me altogether; but that doesn't suit her.

I have great fear of misinterpreting this
for I am so brave
that I have not parted from her.
That she's never moved to pity
and that she never gives me anything I ask of her,
is that inappropriate? No, because she told me in advance.
But I strive, always, to serve her
and she likes it well; and may she take care not to fail!
For giving reward where it is deserved
is a proper thing, and a boorish one to refuse it.

Provided that her great virtue increses,
and is heard about,
it doesn't matter to her if I find myself afflicted,
nor how my affairs go.
For it is good for her that I bear all the suffering,
and I like when I can put her forth;
it is good for her when she can make me languish
and I like when I can advance her;
she doesn't care that I feel bad,
and I like it when she feels good.

The countess of Marselha, I can tell you,
makes her fine virtue be loved in Auvèrnha
and her mercy honours me there;
but slanderers honour me as much here.

Noble queen, you make yourself be loved with discernment
and [make yourself] be praised and advanced by honour;
and with good virtue and beautiful, cheery disport
you make yourself be loved: and praise goes thus towards you.

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