The Democratic Republic of Poetry
Raimbaut de VaqueirasTroubadoursProsodyHelpLinks

The prosody guide is available as a book. Click here for details.

Ar pren camgat per tostemps de xantar,
E laix solaz e gauig e alegrer,
E viuré tristz, marritz, ab cossirer
Per totstemps mays, c'axi.m cove a far,
Pus mort' es leys que hom no pot blasmar
De nuylla re qui.l sia malestan;
No m'a que far uymays solaz ne xan.

En mon pays jamays no vuyl estar,
Car no.y vey re qui.m pusca far plaser.
Las! que faray, que axi.m desesper?
Qu'eu no vey res qui.m pusca alegrar
A tan gran dol, tan greu per conortar,
Qu'eu mays non cuyt veser d'aytal semblan,
Ne jes la mort no.m pot far major dan.

A seyner Deus! de vos no.m puix lauçar,
C'aytal fora, s'eu m'agues lo poder.
Ben la volgra a mos obs retener
Sol per aysso qu'eu posques remirar
Ses grans bontatz un hom no troba par,
E.l seu bel cors asalt e benestan,
E la valor e.l pretz c'avia gran.

A! co m'es greu, can no puix demostrar
Con suy iratz ne co.m dey captener.
Pus iratz suy qu'eu no fas aparer,
E ay ne dret, car anc major pezar
No.m pot far mort: assatz hé que plorar!
Al ver seynor la su' arma coman,
Que la meta lay davan sen Johan.

Oymays ben puix lo seu bo pretz lauzar,
Car anc no vi myls dona xaptener
Endret valor, ne segons son poder
Fazia be co qui.l fos benestan;
Plazen era en fayt e en parlan,
Qu'en ren d'aysso nuyl hom no es dubtan,
Per qu'eu la am mays tostemps sens engan.

Segle xaytiu! als non es mas engan:
Un plus te vey, mays te vay meynsprezan.

Now do I turn away from singing forever,
and I leave amusement, pleasure and mirth
and shall live sad, afflicted, with woe
as my eternal mate, for this behoves me,
since death is a law which none can blame
for anything one finds unseemly;
I have naught to do with amusement and singing no more.

I shall remain no longer in my country,
since I don't see in it anything that may please me.
Alas! What shall I do, who despair so?
For I don't see anything that may cheer me up
from such a sorrow, so hard to assuage
since I can never hope to see her like again,
nor can ever death cause me a greater loss.

Ah, lord god! I cannot praise you,
since such a lady would live still, if I had the power.
I would much like to keep her for myself
for the sole reason of contemplating
her great kindness, to which one can find no equal,
and her beautiful body, gracious and seemly,
and the merit and worth she had so much of.

Ah! How grievous it is, when I cannot show
how sorrowful I am, nor how I must restrain myself.
I am more sorrowful than I give out
and rightly so, for a greater pain
death could not inflict me: such cause I have for tears!
I commend her soul to the true lord,
that he put it there, in front of St. John.

Well may I praise henceforth her great worth,
for never did I see a woman keep herself better
as far as merit is concerned, nor who, according to her means
would carry herself better in what was seemly;
she was agreeable both in words and in deeds,
for no man doubts this one particle,
for which, without deception, I love her evermore.

O wretched world! You are but a deceiver:
the more I see you, the more I keep despising you.

Note: of very uncertain attribution.