|The prosody guide is available as a book. Click here for details.|
Farai un vers, pos mi sonelh,
E-m vauc e m'estauc al solelh.
Donnas i a de mal conselh,
Et sai dir cals:
Cellas c'amor de cavalier tornon a mals.
Donna no fai pechat mortal
Que ama cavalier leal;
Mas s'ama monge o clergal
Non es raizo:
Per dreg la deuri'hom cremar ab un tezo.
En Alvernhe, part Lemozi,
M'en anei totz sols a tapi:
Trobei la moller d'En Guari
E d'En Bernart;
Saluderon mi sinplamentz per san Launart.
La una-m diz en son latin:
"O, Deus vos salv, don pelerin;
Mout mi semblatz de belh aizin,
Mas trop vezem anar pel mond de folla gent."
Ar auzires qu'ai respondutz;
Anc no li diz ni ba ni butz,
Ni fer ni fust no ai mentagutz,
Mas sol aitan:
"Babariol, babariol, babarian."
So diz n'Agnes a n'Ermessen:
"Trobat avem que anam queren:
Sor, per amor Deu l'alberguem,
Que ben es mutz,
E ja per lui nostre conselh non er saubutz."
La una-m pres sotz son mantel
Et mes m'en la cambra, el fornel:
Sapchatz qu'a mi fo bon e bel,
E-l foc fo bos,
Et eu calfei me volentiers als gros carbos.
A manjar mi deron capos,
E sapchatz agui mais de dos,
Et no-i ac cog ni cogastros,
Mas sol nos tres;
E-l pans fo blancs e-l vins fo bos e-l pebr'espes.
"Sor, si aquest hom es ginhos
Ni laicha a parlar per nos,
Nos aportem nostre gat ros
Qe-l fara parlar az estros, si de re-nz ment."
N'Agnes anet per l'enoios:
Et fo granz, et ag loncz guinhos:
Et eu, can lo vi entre nos,
Qu'a pauc no-n perdei la valor e l'ardiment.
Quant aguem begut e manjat,
Eu mi despoillei per lor grat;
Detras m'aporteron lo gat
Mal e felon:
La una-l tira del costat tro al tallon.
Per la coa de mantenen
Tira-l gat, et el escoisen:
Plajas mi feron mais de cen
Mas eu no-m mogra ges enquers qi m'ausizetz.
Pos diz N'Agnes a N'Ermessen:
"Mutz es, que ben es conoissen.
Sor, del banh nos apareillem
E del sojorn."
.xli. jorn estei az aquel torn.
Tant las fotei com auziretz:
Cen e quatre vint et ueit vetz,
Q'a pauc no-i rompei mos corretz
E mos arnes;
E no-us pues dir los malaveg tan gran m'en pres.
Monet, tu m'iras al mati,
Mo vers porteras el borsi
Dreg a la molher d'en Guari
E d'en Bernat,
E diguas lor que per m'amor aucizo-l cat
I'll write a verse, since I'm dozing off
and I move, though motionless, under the sun.
There are malicious women,
and I'll tell you which ones:
those who take a knight's love badly.
A woman is not in mortal sin
if she loves a loyal knight;
but if she loves a monk or priest,
she should rightfully burn on a stake.
In Auvergne, around Limoges,
I was going alone and incognito:
I found the wife of Sir Guari
and of Sir Bernart;
they greeted me simply by the name of Saint Leonard.
One told me in her tongue:
"God save you, Sir Pilgrim;
you certainly look of high status,
in my opinion,
but we see so many fools going around the world."
And hear what I answered;
I didn't say "ah" nor "bah"
(neither did I mention iron nor wood)
but only as much as:
"Babariol, babariol, babarian"
So Dame Agnes told Dame Ermessen:
"We have found what we looking for:
sister, by all means, let's host him,
since he is dumb,
and nobody will know our purpose from him."
One took me under her cape
and lead me into the room, by the hearth:
and know that I appreciated it,
and the fire was good
and I warmed myself gladly with those large cinders.
And they fed me capons
and know that I had more than two,
and there were neither a cook nor kitchen-boys
but only we three;
and the bread was white, and the wine good, and the pepper abundant.
"Sister, if this man is playing it dumb
and refrains from speaking for our sake
let's bring in our red cat
it will make speak immediately, if he deceives us in any way."
Agnes went fetch the bothersome thing
and it was big and had long whiskers
and I, as I saw it among us,
was so afraid of it
that I almost lost heart, and lust.
When we had drunk and eaten,
I stripped myself naked for their sake.
They brought in, from behind, the cat,
[which was] mean and treacherous:
one spread it from the ribcage down to the heels.
Suddenly, she pulled the cat by the tail
and it scratched:
they gave me more than a hundred sores
but I wouldn't have budged, even if they had killed me.
Thereafter Dame Agnes told Dame Ermessen:
"He is dumb, it is clear:
sister, let's get ready for merryment
I lingered 41 days that way.
You shall hear how much I fucked them:
a hundred and eighty-eight times,
so much that they almost broke my equipment
and my tool;
and I can't describe the aching, so much I was taken.
Monet, you shall go in the morning,
bringing my verse in your purse,
straight to the wife of Ser Guari
and of Sir Bernat,
and tell them, for the love of me, to kill the cat.