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| prosody | miscellaneous |
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. |