prosody | miscellaneous |
Ar vei bru, escur, trebol cèl Don per l'air vent'e giscl'e plou, E chai neus e gels e gibres, E·l sol qu'era cautz, ferms e durs Es sa calors teun'e flaca, E fuelh e flors chai jos dels rams Si que en plais ni en blaca Non aug chans, ni critz mas dins murs; Per qu'ieu chantarai alques grams. Mas aura ni plueja ni gèl No·m tengran plus que·l gen temps nou S'auzes desplejar mos libres De fag d'amor ab digz escurs; So don plus Temers m'es jaca Qu'Ira·m fes dir midons e clams; Que mais d'amor don m'estaca No chantari'ab nulhs agurs Tro plais vengues entre nos ams. Mas d'aisso que·m sap pro a fèl Puesc chantar, don grans mals mi mou: Dels fals, plus ponhens que gibres, Envejos, parliers, mals tafurs, Q'us quex ponha, et ataca Com als fis drutz sia Joys lams; Et on qu'aia porc ni vaca Ilh n'auran pro, e·l vis er purs; E pueys fan grans critz, rotz e brams. Qu'ieu sai un trachor mal fizèl Que par qu'aia sen meins q'un bou Et es ben dels regoibres Quar ponha cum traia segurs Son senhor que·l cor l'ensaca; E s'er'entoisseguatz els cams No·s cug que·l quezes tiriaca, Ans li querri'ab totz aturs Com lo pendes ab fortz liams. Quar anc Caim, qu'acis Abèl, No saup de tracion un ou Contra lieis, – mas ieu par ibres, Quar li dic so don sui madurs, Si·m carga lo col e·m maca; Mas tan me dol la pen'e la fams Quan me soven de la raca Non aus parlar neis dels perjurs De lieis, quan me membra·l satams. E si·m saubra·l chantars a mèl Ab mon vers qu'ai fait pres d'an nou, Quan guarengals e gingibres An lur sazo ab mains gasurs, E Mos Estreups qu'es part Jaca No faria tal per dos dams, En aquesta rima braca, Ab qu'en fos sieus Acres e Surs, E de sai Peitaus e Roams. Qu'er si be·s fer de l'Esclaca S'il no men ab sos diz escurs Si sui cel que i serai lams. Mos vers, qu'enaici s'estaca, Volgra que'm fos portaz segurs A Demoniad'e que·l fos grams. |
Now I see cloudy, dark, stormy skies wherefore the air is crossed by wind, squalls and rain; and snow, ice and frost fall and the sun, which was hot, strong and harsh, its heat is now weak and feeble, and the foliage and flowers fall from the branches so that neither in hedge nor in grove a song is heard, nor [are] cries, except indoors: whence I shall sing rather wretchedly. But gale or rain or cold wouldn't hold me back more than the gentle springtime if I dared open my books of deeds of love in obscure sayings, that from which Restraint prevents me although Frustration made me mention my lady and complain; for I ought never to sing of love, to which she binds me, in any guise until an agreement were reached between us. But I can sing of that which is most bitter, and from which a great ill moves against me: of the false, more biting than vipers, envious, talkative, evil cheats, for each one ponders and seeks how joy can disappear from the faithful in a flash; and wherever is pork or beef, they'll have their fill, and their wine will be undiluted; and afterwards, they will greatly cry, rumble and roar. For I know an unfaithful traitor [Cupid?] who seems to have less sense than an ox and is indeed uncouth, for it ponders how to safely betray his lord, whose heart he ensnares; and if his lord is poisoned in the field let none imagine that he'd seek an antidote for him, rather, he'd seek with all his arts how to bind him with strong bonds. For even Cain, who killed Abel, knew a minnow's worth about treachery compared to him – but I sound drunk, for I tell him the reason I have aged, that he burdens my back and bludgeons me so; but sorrow and hunger ail me so, when I recall the unworthy woman, that I don't dare talk about the perjury concerning her, when that devil comes back to me. And, indeed, my singing would be honeyed, in this verse of mine which I wrote around New Year, when the galangal and ginger have their season of many gluttons, and My Stirrup, who is around Jaca would not do, even for two harms, such as in this lowly rhyme, even if it earned him Acre and Tyre and, around here, Poitiers and Rouen. For now, as well as de l'Esclaca strikes, (if he doesn't lie with his ambiguous speeches) so am I indeed the one who shall suffer in it. I would like this verse, which I finish here, to be safely carried to the Devilish Woman, and to be grievous to her. |