| |
|||
| prosody | miscellaneous |
Dirai vos en mon lati De so qu'ieu vei e que vi! Non cuich que·l segles dur gaire Segon qu'escriptura di, Qu'eras faill lo fills al paire E·l pair' al fill atressi. Desviatz de son cami Jovens se torn' a decli, E Donars qu'era sos fraire, Va s'en fugen a tapi, C'anc dons Costans l'enganaire Joi ni Joven non jauzi. Soven de pan e de vi Noiris rics hom mal vezi, E si·l tengues de mal aire Segurs es de mal maiti, Si no·i ment lo gazaignaire Don lo reproviers issi. Lo mouniers jutg'al moli: Qui ben lia ben desli! E·l vilans ditz tras l'araire: Bons fruitz eis de bon jardi, Et avols fills d'avol maire E d'avol caval rossi. Eras naisson dui poilli Beill, burden, ab saura cri Que·is van volven de blanc vaire E fan semblan aseni! Jois e Jovens n'es trichaire E malvestatz eis d'aqui. Moillerat, ab sen cabri, Atal paratz lo coissi Don lo cons esdeven laire! Que tals ditz: mos fills me ri Que anc ren no·i ac a faire: Gardatz sen ben bedoi. Re no·m val s'ieu los chasti, C'ades retornan aqui, E puois un non vei estraire Marcabrus d'aquel trahi, An lo tondres contra·l raire, Moillerat, del joc coni. An lo tondres contra·l raire, Moillerat, del joc coni. |
I shall tell you, in my language, what I see and what I saw! I don't think the world will last, according to the Scriptures, for the son now fails his father and the father his son, too. Swayed from his path, Youth turns to ruin; and Largesse, who was his brother, goes running, wretched. Never did Lady Constance, the deceiver, enjoy Youth or Joy. It is often bread and wine that a rich man feeds a bad neighbour; and if he has a bad upbringing, he is sure of a bad morning, unless the farmhand lies, whence the saying comes. The miller sentences, in his mill: "He who ties well, well unties!" And the peasant says, behind the plough: "A good fruit comes of a good garden, a bad son of bad mother and, of a bad horse, a hack." Now two foals are born, beautiful, prancing, with blond hair that they are turning from white to vair while carrying themselves like donkeys. Joy and Youth have become tricksters and Wickedness comes thence. Married people, as horny as goats, you prepare your pillow so that the cunt becomes a thief. And some says, "My son laughed at me" who has no relation to him: behold a silly mind! It is useless to chastise them because they always get back there and I, Marcabru, can't see a single one saved from this: they trade mowing with shaving, the married men, in the game of the cunt. They have mowing instead of shaving, the married men, in the game of the cunt. |