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Farai chansoneta nueva,
Ans que vent ni gel ni plueva:
Ma dona m'assaya e-m prueva,
Quossi de qual guiza l'am;
E ja per plag que m'en mueva
No-m solvera de son liam.

Qu'ans mi rent a lieys e-m liure,
Qu'en sa carta-m pot escriure.
E no m'en tenguatz per yure,
S'ieu ma bona dompna am!
Quar senes lieys non puesc viure,
Tant ai pres de s'amor gran fam.

Per aquesta fri e tremble,
Quar de tam bon'amor l'am,
Qu'anc no cug qu'en nasques semble
En semblan del gran linh n'Adam.

Que plus es blanca qu'evori,
Per qu'ieu autra non azori:
Si-m breu non ai aiutori,
Cum ma bona dompna m'am,
Morrai, pel cap sanh Gregori,
Si no-m bayza en cambr'o sotz ram.

Qual pro-y auretz, dompna conja,
Si vostr'amors mi deslonja
Par que-us vulhatz metre monja!
E sapchatz, quar tan vos am,
Tem que la dolors me ponja,
Si no-m faitz dreg dels tortz q'ie-us clam.

Qual pro i auretz s'ieu m'enclostre
E no-m retenetz per vostre
Totz lo joys del mon es nostre,
Dompna, s'amduy nos amam.
Lay al mieu amic Daurostre,
Dic e man que chan e bram.

I shall write a new little song
before it turns windy, cold and rainy:
let my mistress assay and test me
so she'll learn in which fashion I love her;
and certainly, come hell and high water,
she won't free me from her snares.

Instead, I surrender and deliver myself to her,
so that she can write my name in her charter.
And don't think I am drunk,
if I love my good mistress,
because I can't live without her,
so much I starve for her love.

I shiver and shake for this woman
because I love her of such a good love:
I don't think one alike to her was born
in the great lineage of the noble Adam.

Because she is whiter than ivory,
and for this I can't adore anyone else:
if I am not reassured shortly,
that my good mistress loves me,
I shall die, by the head of St. Gregory,
unless she kisses me in her room or under a tree.

What good will it be to you, beautiful dame,
if your love parts me from you?
You seem to intend to become a nun!
And know, since I love you so much,
that I fear that the pain will harm me,
if you don't redress the wrongs I blame on you.

What good will it be to you if I become a monk
and you don't keep me as your own?
All the joy in the world is ours,
Lady, if we love each other.
Down there, I tell and command my friend Daurostre
to sing and cry.