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| prosody | miscellaneous |
Scometre·us vòlh, Reculaire; Pois vestirs no·us dura gaire, De paubretat ètz confraire Als bons òmes de Leun; Mas de fe no·n semblatz un Que vos ètz fòls e jugaire, E de putans cortejaire. N'Uguet, auzit ai retraire Qu'uns temps èr, çò m'es vejaire, Que l'aursfrés e·l gris e·l vaire N'iràn ab lo fum tot un; Per qu'ieu non ai mon estrun En aver, dont sui burlaire, E chascuns dègr' aissí faire. Reculaire, fòls seria Totz òm que d'aiçò'us crezia; Vos cujatz que be·us estia, Quant al jòc vos despulhatz, E quan fai freg tremolatz, E cridatz : « Qui·m prestaria Son mantèl, ie·l li rendria. » N'Uguet, ben sai, s'ieu moria Qu’ atretan me·n portaria Co'l plus rics reis qu'el mon sia; Per qu'ieu sèc mas volontatz, E jògui ab los tres datz, E pren ab los cons paria, Et ab bon vin, on que sia. Reculaire, qui·us donava Cinc sòls, e pueis en gitava Autres cinc por en la grava, Detz sòls auria perdutz; Mentre qu'aissí viuretz nutz, E cujatz, si be·us estava, Vos prezès qui·us encontrava? N'Uguet, ben paraula brava Disetz mi com si·us costava Mos jòcs, mas s'ieu amassava Tal aver dont fos perdutz L'esperitz ni deceubutz, Dirion que mal estava Bon òme de Calatrava. Reculaire, ieu son drutz De tal, si dir o ausava, Qu'es la génser qu'òm mentava. N'Uguet, et ieu vauc si nutz, Que si laire m'encontrava, No·m tolria si no·m dava. |
I challenge you, Reculaire; Since your clothes don’t last long, you are a brother in poverty To the Poor of Lyon. But you don’t seem like one in belief for you are a fool and a gambler, and a suitor of whores. Sir Uguet, I have heard it said that at one time, as it seems to me, orphrey, grey squirrel fur, and vair will go up in smoke altogether That is why I do not set my mind on wealth, which I mock, and everyone should do the same. Reculaire, he would be a fool who believed you in this. You think it suits you well when you gamble your clothes away and, when the cold makes you shiver, you cry out: "Who would lend me their cloak? I would return it." Sir Uguet, I know well that if I were to die, I would take with me as much as the richest king in the world. So I follow my inclination, and I play with the three dice, and take my pleasures with pussy and with good wine, wherever it may be. Reculaire, if someone gave you five sous and then threw away another five into the sand, he would have lost ten. So long as you live like this, despoiled, do you think, even if it suited you well, that people will respect you? Sir Uguet, you speak harsh words, as if my gambling cost you something. but if I hoarded such wealth that my spirit would be lost and deceived, they would say it's a disgrace, the good men of Calatrava. Reculaire, I am the lover of one, if I dare say so, who is the noblest ever spoken of. And I, Sir Uguet, am so despoiled, that if a thief met me, he wouldn’t take but what he gave me. |
Metrical pattern: 64