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| prosody | miscellaneous |
Amics Marchabrun, car digam Un vers d'Amor, que per cor am Q'a l'hora qe nos partiram En sia loing lo chanz auziz. Ugo Catola, er fazam, Mas de faus' amistat me clam, Q'anc pos la serps baisset lo ram No foron tant enganairiz. Marcabrun, ço no m'es pas bon Qe d'Amor digaz si ben non! Per zo·us en mou e[u] la tenson, Qe d'Amor fui naz e noiriz. Catola, non entenz razon, Non saps d'Amor cum trais Samson? Vos cuidaz e'ill autre bricon Qe tot sia vers quant vos diz. Marcabrun, no·s troban auctor De Sanso·l fort e de sa'uxor Q'ela n'avia ostat s'amor A l'ora que ce fo deliz. Catola, qar a sordejor La det e la tolc al meillor, Lo dia perdet sa valor, Qe'l seus fo per l'estraing traiz. Marcabrun, si cum declinaz Qu'Amors si' ab engan mesclaz, Dunc es lo almosna pechaz, La cima devers la raiz Catola, l'Amors dont parlaz Camja cubertament los daz, Aprop lo bon lanz vos gardaz, Co diz Salomons e Daviz. Marcabrun, amistaz dechai, Car a trobat Joven savai! Eu n'ai al cor ir' et esclai, Qar l'en a levaz tan laiz criz. Catola, Ovides mostra chai E l'ambladura o retrai Que non soana brun ni bai, Anz se trai plus aus achaiz. Marchabrun, anc non cuit t'ames L'Amors, ves cui es tant engres, Ni no fo anc res meinz prezes D'aitals joglars esbaluiz. Catola, anc de ren non fo pres Un pas, que tost no s'en loignes, Et enquer s'en loingna ades, E fera, tro seaz feniz. Marcabrun, quant sui las e·m duoill, E ma bon'amia m'acuoill Ab un baisar, quant me despuoill, M'en vau sans e saus e garitz. Catola, per amor deu truoill Tressaill l'avers al fol lo suoill, E puois mostra la via a l'uoill Aprop los autres escharniz. |
Marcabru, my friend, let's compose a love poem, for I've set my heart to that, by the time we part, its tune be heard far away. Uc Catola, let's do it but I accuse you of false friendship for, ever since the serpent lowered the branch [to Eve], there haven't been as many deceitful women. Marcabru, it doesn't please me that you say anything but good about Love! I begin this tenso because Love gave me life and raised me. Catola, you don't listen to reason. Don't you know how Love betrayed Samson? You and the other suckers, do you think that everything [love] tells you is true? Marcabru, we do not find people who say, about the strong Samson and his wife, that she had removed her Love at the time his life ran out. Catola it's to the worst she gave [her love] and took it away from the best and lost her worth the day her husband was betrayed for the foreigner. Marcabru, since you imply that Love is mixed with deception, is almsgiving sin and the top below the root? Catola, the Love you talk about secretly changes the dice. Stop after a good roll, say Solomon and David. Marcabru, Friendship decays because it has found Youth uncouth! I have anger and revulsion in my heart because it has caused such ugly cries. Catola, Ovid shows here, and the look of things confirms it, tha [Love] does not discriminate against brown or bay, but appeals mostly to degenerates. Marcabru, I do not think you ever loved Love, towards which you are so vehement, nor that it ever esteemed anything less than certain brainless jesters. Catola, Love never took a step [towards me] without fleeing right away, and it still tirelessly flees and will do so till it is undone. Marcabru when I'm tired and sad and my good friend greets me with a kiss while I take off my clothes, I go away well, and safe, and cured. Catola, out of love of the wine-press, money makes the fool cross the threshold and then shows the eye the way towards the other laughable people. |