prosody | miscellaneous |
A! Cu·m dona ric coratge De preiar et ardimen Amors, que don' espaven Ad autre fin amador; Que, quan sa dompn'a valor E beutat e cortezia, No l'auza son talan dir. Pero mi fai enardir Mais que si ren no·n avia; Qu'hom quan mais cuja conquerer Major ardimen deu aver. A faire gran vassallatge S'eschai be qu' on aia sen. Pero plus ardidamen O fai qu'i mescla folor. Quar anc bon envazidor No vim, si no fes folhia. E no·s tanh ges qu'hom s'albir Tot so qu'en pot avenir, Quar ja ren be no·n faria; Qu'ieu n'ai vist ja manh decazer Qu'era fort pros, per trop temer. Temer deu hom vilanatge Far e tot descauzimen E ves si dons falhimen E vergonh' e deshonor, E d'aisso·m don ieu temor. Que s'ieu aisso non temia Enves ma domna mentir, Trop cujaria falhir. Pero ieu fatz tota via, On mais e mielhs puesc, son voler, E s'ieu falh, non ai pro saber. Tant m'agrat de vostr'estatge, Don', e tan mi son plazen Tuit vostre captenemen, E tan vos port fin' amor Que s'ieu plus fort que non cor Us cavals de pretz corria, Quan vuelh lai on etz venir Segon so que ieu dezir Esser ab vos, cujaria Anar, don', ab trop gran lezer. Gardatz s'i ai ben mon voler! Domna, ieu ai un usatge Qu'es, segon mon escien Per sobrenamoramen E quar vos port tan d'onor: Quan vostra fresca color Avinen ses maestria Ni·l vostre gen cors remir, Sui tan jauzens qu'al partir M'en creis ir' e feunia. Qu'atressi n'ai gran desplazer Quan no·us vei, cum joi del vezer. Tant ai en vos mon coratge Plus qu'en autra ren viven, Per que·m par que chauzimen Del vostre fin amador Vos penra, que gran honor I faretz e cortezia. Qu'en vos ai mes mon dezir E mon amar ses mentir, E farai o tota via, Quar vos me podetz retener Que mais en ren non ai esper. Lauzengier, grazida·us sia L'onors que·m faitz ab mentir, Quar vos faitz cujar e dir Qu'ieu am tal per drudaria On anc jorn non ac mon esper, Et ab mentir cobrez lo ver. |
A! How Love gives me plentiful willingness of entreating and enduring love, which gives terrors to another fine lover; for, when his lady has virtue and beauty and manners, he dares not tell her about his intentions; whereas it makes me even bolder than I'd be if she had no [virtues] because the more one wants to conquer, the more boldness he must have. To be of great service, one needs to have common sense. But he acts more bravely who mixes some folly in: for never did a good assailant prevail without doing something foolish. And it isn't good that one imagines everything that can happen to him, for he would not do any good. And I have already seen many spoil, who were quite valiant, out of fearing too much. One must fear to do villany and all debasement and to fail his lady and shame, and dishonour: and those things make me shiver. For, if I didn't fear lying to my lady I'd believe I'd fail much. But I have done, all the way, as well as I could, her will: and, if I fail, it is out of lack of knowledge. So taken I am by your station, lady, and so pleasant I find all your enterprises, and so much pure love I have for you that, were I to run faster than a prize horse racing, when I want to get to where you are, following my desire to be with you, I would believe to be walking, lady, with far too much sloth. See how I've set my mind to it! Lady, I have a habit that comes, in my opinion, from over-loving and from the great honour I bear for you: when I regard your youthful complexion, comely without peer, and your supple body, I am so joyous that, upon parting, sorrow and sadness grow inside me. For I have as great a displeasure when I don't see you as I have joy when I see you. So much I have you in my heart, more than any other living being, that I believe you'll have some regards for your fine lover, for it'd be a great honour and kindness for him. For I have put in you my desire and my loving, without lie, and I will [do so] to the end, so you can keep me as yours; otherwise, I don't have hope in anything. Slanderers, be it to your credit the honour you give me by lying, for you make [people] believe and say that I love, reciprocated, one towards which I don't turn a thought, and, by lying, you cover the truth. |