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| prosody | miscellaneous |
Lo vers comens quan vei del fau Ses foilla lo cim e·l branquill, C'om d'auzel ni raina non au Chan ni grondill, Ni fara jusqu'al temps soau Qu·el nais brondill. E segon trobar naturau Port la peir' e l'esc' e'l fozill, Mas menut trobador bergau Entrebesquill, Mi tornon mon chant en badau En fant gratill. Pretz es vengutz d'amont aval E casegutz en l'escobill, Puois avers fai Roma venau, Ben cuig que cill Non jauziran, qui·n son colpau D'aquest perill. Avoleza porta la clau E geta Proez' en issill! Greu parejaran mais igau Paire ni fill! Que non aug dir, fors en Peitau, C'om s'en atill. Li plus d'aquest segle carnau Ant tornat joven a nuill, Qu'ieu non trob, de que molt m'es mau, Qui maestrill Cortesia ab cor leiau, Que noi·s ranquill. Passat ant lo saut vergondau Ab semblan d'usatge captill! Tot cant que donant fant sensau, Plen de grondill, E non prezon blasme ni lau Un gran de mill. Cel prophetizet ben e mau Que ditz c'om iri' en becill, Seigner sers e sers seignorau, E si fant ill, Que·i ant fait li buzat d'Anjau, Cal desmerill. Si amars a amic corau, Miga nonca m'en meravill S'il se fai semblar bestiau Al departill, Greu veiretz ja joc comunau Al pelacill. Marcabrus ditz que noil l'en cau, Qui quer ben lo vers e·l foill Que no·i pot hom trobar a frau Mot de roill! Intrar pot hom de lonc jornau En breu doill. |
I start the piece when I see the beech without leaves on the top and on the branches, when no man hears the bird and the frog singing or croaking, nor will, until the gentle season when the twig sprouts. Now, according to the natural art, I carry the flint, tinder and tinderbox, but lesser troubadours, like hornets, interfere, turn my song into a joke and have a good laugh. Virtue has descended from on high to low, fallen into the filth; since money makes Rome greedy, I rather think that those who are guilty of this danger won't enjoy [them]. Cowardice carries the key and casts Prowess into exile. Hardly you'll find father and son to be equals; for I don't hear, except in Poitou, that on cultivates [prowess]. Most, in this world of lust, have turned to despise youth, for I cannot find, and that grieves me much, one who masters courtesy with a loyal heart and who doesn't totter. They have taken the leap of shame with the appearance of a sovereign habit. On all they give, they demand royalties; full of complaints, they don't care a fig for blame or praise. He prophesied right and wrong who said we will end up in reversal, the lord a serf and the serf a lord: they already do that: the buzzards of Anjou have done so. What a fall! If lovemaking has a loyal friend, it is no wonder at all to me if it seems to be of bestial appearance when it departs, for you'll hardly see fairness in the game of love. Marcabru says he doesn't care if someone scans his piece and searches it, because one cannot find a false word to tarnish it: may a man of great size be able to enter [his?] small hole! |