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Amics, en gran cossirier
Suy per vos, et en greu pena;
E del mal q'ieu en sufier
No cre que vos sentatz guaire.
Doncx, per que·us metetz amaire,
Pus a me laissatz tot lo mal?
Quar amdui no·l partem egual?

Don', Amors a tal mestier,
Pus dos amicx encadena,
Que·l mal q'an e l'alegrier
Sen chascus, so·ill es vejaire.
Qu'ieu pens, e non suy guabaire,
Que la dura dolor coral
Ai eu tota a mon cabal.

Amicx, s'acsetz un cartier
De la dolor que·m malmena,
Be viratz mon encombrier;
Mas no·us cal del mieu dan guaire;
Que – quar no m'en puesc estraire –
Cum que·m an vos es cominal –
An me ben o mal atretal.

Dompna, quar yst lauzengier,
Que m'an tout sen et alena,
Son uostr'anguoyssos guerrier
Lays m'en, non per tala vaire;
Qu'ar no·us suy pres, qu'ab lur braire
Vos an bastit tal joc mortal
Que no jauzem jauzen jornal.

Amicx, nulh grat no·us refier,
Quar ia·l mieus dans vos refrena
De vezer me, que·us enquier.
E si vos faitz plus guardaire
Del mieu dan qu'ieu no vuelh faire,
Be·us tenc per sobreplus leyal
Que no son silh de l'Espital.

Dona, ieu tem a sobrier –
Qu'aur perdi, e vos arena –
Que per dig de lauzengier
Nostr'amor tornes en caire;
Per so dey tener en guaire
Trop plus que vos, per Sanh Marsal,
Quar etz la res que mais me val.

Amicx, tan vos sai leugier
E fait d'amoroza mena
Qu'ieu cug que de cavalier
Siatz devengutz camjayre;
E deg vos o ben retraire
Quar ben paretz que pessetz d'al
Pos del mieu pensamen no·us cal.

Dona, ja mais esparvier
No port, ni cas ab serena,
S'anc pueys que·m detz joi entier
Fui de nulh' autr' enquistaire;
Ni no suy aital bauzaire,
Mas per enveja·l deslial
M'o alevon e·m fan venal.

Amicx, creirai vos per aital
Qu'aissi·us aya tostemps leyal.

Dona, aissi m'auretz leyal
Que ja mais non pensarai d'al.

Friend, I am in great anguish
and in heavy throes because of you;
and I don't think you are at all affected
by the ills I suffer.
Well, why do you take to loving
only to leave all the pain to me?
Why don't we both share it equally?

Lady, Love acts in such a way,
when linking two lovers,
that each feels, in his own opinion,
all the pain and all the happiness.
For I think, and I am no braggart,
that the entire load of this harsh heartache
is on my shoulders.

Friend, if you had one quarter
of the pain that batters me,
you would see my crux;
but you don't care about my ills at all;
for – since I cannot extricate myself –
how I am is all the same to you:
good or bad, it doesn't matter.

Lady, it is because these slanderers,
who have taken away my sense and courage away,
are your implacable enemies
that I let it be, not out of fickleness;
for now I'm not by your side because, with their braying,
they have set up such deadly snags for you
that we don't enjoy a single happy day.

Friend, you shan't find me in the least grateful,
for harm to me doesn't stop you
from seeing me, which I am asking you to do.
And if you act as a better guardian
against my harm than I do,
I consider you as much more loyal
than the knights of the Hospital.

Lady, I fear more greatly –
since I risk gold, and you but sand –
that, because of the words of a slanderer,
our love might turn out badly;
therefore I must be so much more
alert than you, by Saint Martial,
for you are the thing I value the most.

Friend, I know you to be so frivolous
and given to escapades
that I believe that, from a knight,
you have become a changeling;
and I shall indeed reproach you for it,
for you certainly look like you are thinking of something else,
since you don't care about my sorrow.

Lady, may I never carry
a goshawk or hunt with a falcon
if ever, after you gave me full joy,
I went after any other woman;
nor am I such a Don Juan:
it is out of envy that the turncoats
attribute this to me, and portray me as vile.

Friend, I shall believe you on condition
that you may be forever loyal to me.

Lady, you will have me so loyal
that I shan't ever think about anything else.

Note: The second writer is apparently Beatriz de Dia.