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[Co]ntra [l'i]vern que s'e[n]ansa,
Ab cossi[ri]er que m'as[sa]ilh
M'es belh [q]ue del chant [m]'enans,
Ans [q]u'autre cossiriers m'assalha,
Pus per un cosselh descrec
No m'es ops qu'autre m'encresca.

Qu'ieu sui assis en trebalh
E levatz en la balansa
D'aquesta say que·m trebalha
E·m ten en aquest balans
Qu'ab doussa sabor azesca
Sos digz de felhon azesc.

Mos talans e sa semblansa
So e no so d'un entalh,
Pueys del talent nays semblans
E pueys ab son dig l'entalha,
Quar si l'us trai ab mal vesc
Lo brico, l'autre l'envesca.

L'amars d'aquesta no·m falh
Pels tricx enojos d'amansa,
Ab sol qu'en amar no·m falha
E·m sia d'amar amans
Ab guizardon que·m paresca
Plus tozetz que non paresc.

Per cujatz n'ay esperansa
Qu'enquer ab mi s'enguasalh,
Mas tan n'ay bons esperans
Estranhs de corta guasalha
Qu'en mieg mon afar folesc
Non dic paraula folesca.

La musa port' e·l badalh
Selh qu'en amar a fizansa
Qu'estra grat mus' e badalha
Soven, so vos afizans,
Qu'amors adoncx entrebresca!
Enginhos desentrebresc.

Ab felhona deziransa
Ed estranhatge baralh
Pays Amors los dezirans
Cuy vir e volv e·m baralha,
Qu'una·m n'a en ufanesc
Pagut d'aital ufanesca.

D'esta qu'ieu chant sobransa
Sos pretz, senes devinalh,
Et en valor es sobrans
Neychas segon devinalha,
Quar si per lieys no m'espresc
Non aten qu'autra m'espresca.

Selh qui fes lo vers e·l tresc
No sap don si mou la tresca.

Marcabrus a fag lo tresc
E no sap don mou la tresca.

With the winter coming forth
and with thoughts assailing me
I'd rather get somewhere with my song
before another thought assails me;
since I lose because of a purpose
I don't need to gain because of another one

For I am crushed by torment
and dragged into confusion
by her here, who torments me
and keeps me confused
because she baits, with sweet flavor,
her words with a treacherous bait.

My desire and her attitude
are not are not cut the same way
and since attitude arises from desire
and since she cuts away at it with her words
and, while one drags, with a nasty snare,
the sucker, the other ensnares him.

The bitterness that comes from this one never fails,
through funny tricks of love;
if only she wouldn't fail
to be my loving lover,
even by giving me a reward that'd seem,
to me, less than seeming.

Out of presumption, I hope
she still with me joins,
but I'm so very hopeful
that it won't be soon disjoined,
that in the middle of my fool's affair
I don't say a foolish word.

He carries with himself the wondering and yawning
who has confidence love
because, without wanting, he wonders and yawns
often, I assure you,
for love scrambles so:
and let the clever man unscramble it!

With rogue desire,
oddity and trouble,
Love repays those who desire:
towards him I turn and dodge and defend myself
because an arrogant woman, as if I were arrogant,
has fed me with such arrogance.

The virtue of the one I sing
reigns high, without dispute,
and her valour is sovereign,
even if disputed,
for, if I don't wake up for her,
don't expect that another awakens me!

He who the words and dance
does not know whence the dancing comes.

Marcabru has written the dance
and does not know whence the dancing comes.