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| prosody | miscellaneous |
Ans que sim reston de branchas sec ni despuelhat de fuelha farai, c'Amors m'o comanda, breu chanson de razon lonia, que gen m'a ducx de las artz de s'escola: tan sai que'l cors fas restar de suberna e mos buous es pro plus correns que lebres. Ab razos coindas et franchas m'a mandat qu'ieu no m'en tuelha ni autra no serva ni'n blanda pus tan fai qu'ab si m'aconia, e'm ditz que flors no'il semble de viola que's camja leu si tot noquas iverna, anz per s'amor sia laurs o genebres. Ditz "Tu, qu'alhors non t'estanchas per autra que't denh ni't cuelha; totz plaitz esquiv'e desmanda sai e lai qui que't somonia, que's clama folh qui se meteis afola; e tu no far falha don hom t'esquerna mas apres Dieu lieis honors e celebres. E tu c'o aus, non t'afranchas per respieg qu'amar no't vuelha: sec, s'il te fui ni't fai guanda, que greu er qu'om no'i aponia qui s'afortis de preiar e no cola, qu'en passera part las palutz d'Uzerna Mon Pelegrin lai on cor en jos Ebres." S'ieu n'ai passatz pons ni planchas per lieis, cujatz qu'ieu m'en duelha? Non eu, qu'ab joi es vianda me sap far mezina conia baizan tenen, e'l cors, si tot si vola, no's part de lieis qui'l capdel'e'l governa. Cors, on qu'ieu an, de lieis no't luins ni't sebres! De part Nil entro c'a Sanchas genser no's vest ni's despuelha, e sa beatatz es tan granda que semblaria'us messonia; be'm vai d'Amor, que m'abrassa e m'acola, e no'm frezis freitz ni gels ni buerna, ni'm fai doler mals ni gota ni ni febres. Sieus es Arnautz del sim tro en la sola e no vuelh ges ses lieis aver Lucerna ni'l senhoriu del renc per on cort Ebres. |
Before the tops of the branches are left withered and barren of leaves, I'll write, at Love's behest, a short song about a long matter, since I was well taught in the arts of its school: I know so much that I can stay the running flow, and my oxes are much quicker than hares. With honest and beautiful words she has bid me not to turn away nor to serve and flatter another one the way she so likes me to do, and tells me not to resemble the violet flower that changes fast, even when it isn't at all cold, instead, for her love's sake, to be like laurel or juniper. She says:"You, care not to settle elsewhere, for another one that cares for you; all dates skip and delay whoever and wherever calls you, because he's a fool who harms himself; and don't fail so to be scolded but after God, only her celebrate and praise. And you, who hear, do not free yourself telling that she won't love you: go on, if you she flees and shuns, hardly a man can fail his aims that insists in pleading and does not give up: he'd pass safe through the swamps of Uzerna to the Pilgrim's Mount, where Ebres runs and jousts." If I crossed bridges and planks for her, d'you think I complain? Not I, that from joy only, without any food, know how to mix a joyous drug, kissing and hugging, and my heart, even if it flies, does not part from her that keeps and rules it. Heart, wherever I go, don't move nor part from her! From where is Nile to Saintes a kinder one does not dress nor undress, and her beauty's so great that it would seem false; Love's good to me, that has her kiss and hug me, and nor cold nor ice nor hoar can chill me, nor makes me ache pain nor disease nor fever. Hers is Arnautz from the top to the ground and doesn't want to have without her Luzerne nor the kingdom through wich the Ebres flows. |