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Lanquan fuelhon li boscatge
E par la flors en la prada,
M'es belhs dous chanz per l'ombratge,
Que fan desus la ramada
L'auzelet per la verdura!
E pus lo temps si melhura,
Elh s'an lur joya conquiza.

Ara perdon l'alegragge
Pel frey e per la gilada!
Mas ieu ai pres tal uzatge:
Totz iorns chant, qu'ara m'agrada!
E fassa caut o freidura,
Trastot m'es d'una mezura
Amors e Joys, d'eyssa guiza.

On plus n'ay meilhor coratge
D'amor, mielhs m'es deslonhada,
Per qu'ieu no·m planc mon dampnatge
Qu'aitals es ma destinada
Que Joys e Bon'Aventura
Mi tolh un pauc de rancura
Que m'es ins el cor assiza.

Selha que·m degra messatge
Enviar de ss'encontrada,
O tem bayssar son paratge,
O s'es ves mi azirada,
O no vol, o no endura,
Ben leu Orguelhs, o Non-Cura
S'es entre nos entremiza.

Ges no·l sera d'agradatge
La merces qu'ieu l'ai clamada.
S'ieu lieys pert per son folhatge,
Ieu n'ay autra espiada,
Fina, esmerada e pura,
Qu'aitals amors es segura
Que de fin joy es empriza.

Per lieys am tot son linhatge
E totz selhs que l'an lauzada,
Quar anc no·m fes estranhatge,
Mas quora·m vi, fon privada.
Quar ieu l'am senes falsura,
Ja no·m deu esser escura
D'aquo don tan l'ay enquiza.

Be·m tengratz per folhatura,
Si be·m fai e mielhs m'ahura,
S'ieu ja m'en planc quar l'ai viza.

When the groves are leafy
and the flower appears in the meadow,
I like to hear, in the shade, the sweet songs
that, over the canopy, the birds
make in the greenery;
and, as the weather gets better and better,
they have won their joy.

Now, they lose their cheer
in the cold and frost;
but I have taken up this habit:
every day I sing, because, now, it is my pleasure.
And be it hot or cold,
it's all the same to me.
Love and Joy, I prize each as much.

The more my heart is prone
to love, the more it shies away from me.
Why not bemoan my misfortune?
For such is my destiny:
that Joy and Good Luck
take away a bit of the bitterness
that has lodged itself in my heart.

She who should send me
messages from her land
fears maybe she'd lower herself too much,
or is irritated against me
or she doesn't want me, or cannot stand me.
It's likely that pride, or indifference,
has put itself between us.

She will not ever consent
to give me the mercy I have clamoured for.
If I lose her out of her madness,
I have spotted another one,
noble, refined and pure,
because such a love is safe
that is marked by a noble joy.

Because of her, I love all her lineage
and all those who have praised her,
because she never changed towards me
but, as soon as she saw me, I entered her confidence.
Because I love her without guile,
surely, she must not refuse me
what I have so often asked her for.

You would think it foolish of me,
since she does me good and wishes me better,
if I complain about her after having seen her.