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Qui non sap esser chantaire
braire
deu quant au lo ver sonar
clar
e que son per tot mesclat
prat
e'l rozal del mati s'espan
blan
sobre l'erba josta'l sauza.

Non aus semblan ni vejaire
faire
qu'eu l'am ni l'aus desamar
ar
q'en amor son drut mirat
fat
e'il fals amador ab engan
van
cui amors engann'e bauza.

Non es reis ni emperaire
gaire
que l'ause'l mantel drechar
var
ni far q'agues acatat
grat.
Ric me fai la noig en somnian,
tan
m'es vis q'en mos bratz l'enclauza.

Lai n'irai el sieu repaire,
laire,
em peril qom de passar
mar.
Si de mi no'il pren pitat,
bat
fer freg. Las! tan la vau pregan
qan
ni ja ren de leis me'n jauza.

Si no'm vol amar m'amia,
dia,
pos eu l'am, s'il m'amara;
ja
q'eu sui al seu mandamen,
gen
li serai si'm vol retener:
ver
li dirai, q'autrez i menta!

He who cannot be a singer
should
bray when he hears Springtime sound
clear
and when everywhere the meadows are
multicoloured
and the morning dew spreads,
light,
over the grass by the osiery.

I don't dare signal, nor
show
that I love her, nor do I dare unlove her
now
that in love the faithful are regarded as
fools
and the false lovers proceed with
deceit
and their love deceives and disappoints.

There aren't, among kings and emperors,
many
who dare hand her her vair
cloak
nor get into her good
graces.
She makes me a lucky man in night dreaming
so much
I dream of holding her in my arms.

I shall go to her abode,
a thief,
in as much danger as if I crossed
a sea.
If she doesn't have mercy on me,
I flog
a dead horse. Alas! I beg her so much
and
I don't get from her any satisfaction.

If my friend doesn't want to love me,
let her say it,
since I love her, if she loves me;
already
I am at her beck and call,
kind
if she agrees to accept me:
truthful
shall I be, whoever else might lie.