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Ges l'estornels non s'oblida,
Quant ac la razon auzida,
C'ans ha sa vida cuillida,
Del dreg volar no s'alensa.
Tant anet
E volet
E seguet
Lo devet,
E trobet,
A chantar comensa.

Sobr' una branca florida
Lo francx auzels brai e crida!
Tant ha sa votz esclarzida,
Qu'ela n'a auzit l'entensa.
L'us declui,
Lai s'esdui
Truesc' a lui.
Auzels sui,
Ditz : -- per cui
Fas tal brui
Ho cals amors tensa

Di l'estornels: part Lerida
A pros es tan descremida,
C'anc no saup plus de gandida,
Plena de falsa crezensa.
Mil amic
S'en fan ric:
Per l'abric
Que·us servic,
Lo meric
Del chairic
N'aura ses faillensa.

-- auzels, a tort m'a' nvazida!
Mas pos amor no·m ressida,
Mas qu'ieu no sui sa plevida,
En cug aver m'entendensa.
L'autr'am ieu,
So vueill ieu,
E badieu
Ses aisieu
Don m'eschieu
Tug de brieu,
Ses far contenensa.

Az una part es partida
Ma fin' amistatz plevida,
Son joc revit, si·l m'envida.
Auzels, per ta conoisensa,
So·l diguatz
Qu'en un glatz
Lev' e jatz,
Er l'abatz
Ans asatz
Que n'ajam lezensa.

La cambr'er de cel guarnida,
D'un ric jauzir per jauzida,
C'ab dous baizar s'es sentida
Desotz se plat de plazensa.
Vai e·l di
Qu'el mati
Que sotz pi
Farem fi,
Sotz lui mi,
D'esta malvolensa.

Gent ha la razon fenida,
Estornels cui l'aura guida
Vas son senhor, com qu'estia!
"Vos ai amor de valensa.
C'als mil drutz
Ha rendutz
Mil salutz
E pagutz
Per condutz
Ses trautz
De falsa semensa."

S'al mati
L'es aqui
On vos di
E·us mandi,
Qu'el ardi
Del jardi
E que·us mat e·us vensa

Certainly, the starling does not forget:
when he had heard the object of my message,
even before taking his food,
he did not linger and flew straight ahead.
So much he went
and flew
and sought
and found,
[and] started singing.

On a flowery bough,
the noble bird shouts and cries.
His voice is so clear
that she has understood his intentions.
She opened her door
and headed
towards him.
"I am a bird",
said he. "Why
do you make such a racket,
or which love pushes you?"

The starling said: "Beyond Lleida,
with some valiant people, you have made such efforts
that I don't know how to vouch [for you?]:
there are plenty of false rumours.
A thousand suitors
take the chance to brag;
because of his hospitality,
he'll take
the blame
of this fall
without doubt."

"Bird, wrongly he attacked me
but, since he does not awaken my love,
because I have not betrothed myself to him,
I think I can have my way.
I love the other,
I want him
and, from a peeping Tom
without consent
I distance myself
right away,
without receiving him.

It has taken off elsewhere,
my pure, sworn friendship:
I play in his game, if he summons me.
Bird, for all your knowledge,
tell him this:
it is on an icicle
he rises and lies.
The abbot
is desired
and [will be] kept,
if we are allowed.

The room is decorated by the sky
and of joy through more joy [?].
[Tell him] she felt like a sweet kiss [?]
and she pleasures herself with more pleasure [?].
Go and tell him
that, in the morning,
he be here,
and that, under a pine tree,
we will end,
me under him,
this misunderstanding."

Courteously he ended his speech [thus],
the starling the breeze guides
towards his lord, wherever he is:
"I have a love of great price for you,
for a thousand suitors
have received
a thousand greetings,
she has fed them
feasts [?]
without tributes
of false seeds." [?]

If, in the morning
you are there
where you are told
and commanded,
in the fray
of the garden
let her give you check and mate.

Note: This is a sequel to Marcabru's poem 25 and a serious case of the What The Fuck: if any reader can explain why the rather slutty lady who is the subject of the poem has a sudden change of heart, in the middle of her own speech, in stanza VI and decides she doesn't want to bone her abbot but the author, I'd be happy to hear it; not that women who go around talking to starlings are expected to make much sense, anyway. Or that stanza VI makes any sense either.