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S'ieu trobava mon compair' en Blacatz
Un bon conseil leial li donaria,
Mas per mon grat ses conseil o faria:
Qu'enanz qu'el fos del segle trespassatz,
S'en departis, que·l temps qu'en es passatz
No·il fara ges, al major ops, secors.
Anz ai paor qu'inz en enfern no·l peigna
Si tan non fai qu'a Jhesu Crist se veigna;
Que l'ufana d'aquest segl' e·l lauzors
Es en l'autre marrimenz e dolors.

Mais deu esser savis hom encolpatz
Que·l fols, quan fail, e plus si no·s chastia.
Que·l fols, quan fail, l'escusa sa folia,
Mas lo savis non es ges escusatz,
Anz l'acusa sos sens, quan fai foldatz.
Quar qui conois los sens e las folors
E vol mais mal que be, deus vol que·il veigna,
E si mal vol tener, Deus vol que·l teigna.
En Blacatz er tan leu al cap del cors
Que·l degr' oimais castiar sol paors.

Aysell que dis: seinher dieus, aiudatz,
Accorres mi, donna sancta Maria!
E, dieu pregant, pensa en raubaria,
E vay raubar tantost con s'es seinhatz,
Es ben del tot del sens dezeretatz.
S'ades fay mal, pueis quer a dieu secors,
Pos mal pensa e mal fay e mal reigna,
Con si sembla que ya dieus lo reteigna?
E si dieus vol aver los raubadors,
Yferns aura vos els fraires menors.

If I found my comrade, Sir Blacatz,
I would give him good, loyal advice
and it'd please me even more if he did it witout advice:
that before he leaves this world
he bids it farewell, for the time he has spent on it
will not do him, when he is in greater need, any good.
Rather, I fear it would push him into Hell
if he doesn't do as much as reconcile with Jesus Christ;
for the vanity of this world and its praise
are, in the other, despair and pain.

The wise must be blamed more
than the fool, when he fails, and more still if he doesn't mend his ways.
For the fool, when he fails, is excused by his folly,
but the wise isn't ever excused,
rather, his wisdom accuses him, when he commits follies.
For one who knows [both] wise and foolish things
and would rather have the bad than the good, god wants him to have it;
and if he wants to keep bad, god wants him to keep it.
Sir Blacatz is so close to the end of the race
that fear alone should be enough to correct him.

He who says: "Lord god, help,
succour me, holy lady Mary!"
and, while praying god, thinks of rapine
and goes pillage as soon as he's made the sign of the cross,
is completely out of his mind.
If he always does bad, then asks god for help,
since he thinks bad, and does bad and lives badly,
how does he ever think that god keeps him?
And, if god wants to have the robbers,
Hell will have your friars minor!