| CHANSON D'AMOUR | SONG OF LOVE |
| Gace Brulé | trans. A.S.Kline |
|
Li consirrers de mon païs Si longuement me trait à mort, Qu'en estranges terres languis, Las, sans deduit et sans confort, Et si dout moult mes enemis Qui de moi mesdient à tort, Mais tant sent mon cuer vrai et fort Que, se Dieu plaist, ne m'en ert pis. Ma douce dame, ne creez Touz ceus qui de moi mesdiront. Quant vous veoir ne me poez De vos beaus yeuz qui souspris m'ont, De vostre franc cuer me veez. Mais ne sai s'il vous en semont, Car tant ne dout rien en cest mont Com ce que vous ne m'oubliez. Par cuer legier de femme avient Que li amant doutent souvent, mais ma loiauté me soustient, Donc fusse je mors autrement! Et sachiez de fine amour vient Qu'il se doutent si durement, Car nuls n'aime seürement, Et fausse est amours qui ne crient. Mes cuers m'a gari et destruit, Mais de ce va bien qu'à li pens, Et ce que je perdre la cuit Me fait doubler mes pensemens. Ainsi me vient soulaz et fuit, Et nepourquant, selon mon sens, Penser à ma dame tous tens Tieng je, ce sachiez, à deduìt. Chançon, à ma dame t'envoi Ançois que nuls en ait chanté, E si li dites de par moi (Gardez que ne li soit celé): "Se trecherie n'a en foi Et trahison en loiauté, Donc avrai bien ce qu'avoir doi, Car de loial cuer ai aimé." |
This absence from my own country’s So long, it brings me to death’s door, I languish here, beyond the sea, Weary, in comfort and joy no more, And I greatly fear that enemy Who slanders me: I wronged endure, Yet feel my heart so true and pure, Please God, no harm will come to me. Sweet Lady mine, don’t believe Those who speak of me in malice. Though you no longer look at me With those sweet eyes that took me captive, Me, with your true heart, you’ll still see. But whether it urges you so to live I know not: of all things fearing this Alone: lest you not remember me. For lightness in the hearts of women Often strikes fear in the hearts of men, Though loyalty stops me from despairing: Without it I’d soon be dead and gone! And you know that True Love’s coming Causes lovers such fear, no one Who ever loves is ever certain, And false the love that is un-fearing. My heart comforts me and destroys me, But it’s right that I should think of her, And the fear she might be lost to me, Makes me doubly thoughtful of her. So my solace only comes to flee, Yet thinking always of my lover, To my mind, as you would discover, Is always a true delight to me. Song, I send you to my Lady, Before a single one has sung you, And you must say to her from me, (Let it not stay a hidden truth) "If in Faith there’s no treachery, Of treason in Loyalty no proof, Then I’ll have what’s owed to me, Since with loyal heart I’ve loved you." |