| prosody | miscellaneous |
[Co]ntra [l'i]vern que s'e[n]ansa, Ab cossi[ri]er que m'as[sa]ilh M'es belh [q]ue del chant [m]'enans, Ans [q]u'autre cossiriers m'assalha, Pus per un cosselh descrec No m'es ops qu'autre m'encresca. Qu'ieu sui assis en trebalh E levatz en la balansa D'aquesta say que·m trebalha E·m ten en aquest balans Qu'ab doussa sabor azesca Sos digz de felhon azesc. Mos talans e sa semblansa So e no so d'un entalh, Pueys del talent nays semblans E pueys ab son dig l'entalha, Quar si l'us trai ab mal vesc Lo brico, l'autre l'envesca. L'amars d'aquesta no·m falh Pels tricx enojos d'amansa, Ab sol qu'en amar no·m falha E·m sia d'amar amans Ab guizardon que·m paresca Plus tozetz que non paresc. Per cujatz n'ay esperansa Qu'enquer ab mi s'enguasalh, Mas tan n'ay bons esperans Estranhs de corta guasalha Qu'en mieg mon afar folesc Non dic paraula folesca. La musa port' e·l badalh Selh qu'en amar a fizansa Qu'estra grat mus' e badalha Soven, so vos afizans, Qu'amors adoncx entrebresca! Enginhos desentrebresc. Ab felhona deziransa Ed estranhatge baralh Pays Amors los dezirans Cuy vir e volv e·m baralha, Qu'una·m n'a en ufanesc Pagut d'aital ufanesca. D'esta qu'ieu chant sobransa Sos pretz, senes devinalh, Et en valor es sobrans Neychas segon devinalha, Quar si per lieys no m'espresc Non aten qu'autra m'espresca. Selh qui fes lo vers e·l tresc No sap don si mou la tresca. Marcabrus a fag lo tresc E no sap don mou la tresca. |
With the winter coming forth and with thoughts assailing me I'd rather get somewhere with my song before another thought assails me; since I lose because of a purpose I don't need to gain because of another one For I am crushed by torment and dragged into confusion by her here, who torments me and keeps me confused because she baits, with sweet flavor, her words with a treacherous bait. My desire and her attitude are not are not cut the same way and since attitude arises from desire and since she cuts away at it with her words and, while one drags, with a nasty snare, the sucker, the other ensnares him. The bitterness that comes from this one never fails, through funny tricks of love; if only she wouldn't fail to be my loving lover, even by giving me a reward that'd seem, to me, less than seeming. Out of presumption, I hope she still with me joins, but I'm so very hopeful that it won't be soon disjoined, that in the middle of my fool's affair I don't say a foolish word. He carries with himself the wondering and yawning who has confidence love because, without wanting, he wonders and yawns often, I assure you, for love scrambles so: and let the clever man unscramble it! With rogue desire, oddity and trouble, Love repays those who desire: towards him I turn and dodge and defend myself because an arrogant woman, as if I were arrogant, has fed me with such arrogance. The virtue of the one I sing reigns high, without dispute, and her valour is sovereign, even if disputed, for, if I don't wake up for her, don't expect that another awakens me! He who the words and dance does not know whence the dancing comes. Marcabru has written the dance and does not know whence the dancing comes. |