| QUAN LA NOVELA FLORS PAR EL VERJAN ... |
WHEN ORCHARDS SHOW THEIR BRANCHES ... |
| Bertrans de Born | trans. James H. Donalson (from Provençal) |
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Quan la novela flors par el verjan, On son vermelh, vert e blanc li brondel, Per la doussor qu'eu sent al torn de l'an, Chant autresi com fan li autre ausel; Quar per ausel me tenc en mantas res Quar aus voler tot lo melhz qu'el mon es; Voler l'aus eu, e aver cor volon, Mas no·lh aus dir mon cor, anz lo·lh rescon. Eu no sui drutz ni d'amor no·m fenh tan Qu'el mon domna n'enrazon ni n'apel Ni no domnei, e sin val autretan, Que lausengier fals, enojos, fradel, Desensenhat, vila e mal apres An de mi dit, tan ne son entremes, Que fan cuidar que la genser del mon Mi tenha gai, jauzen e desiron. Om sens domna no pot far d'amor chan, Mas sirventes farai fresc e novel. Pois chastiar cuidon en guerrejan Nostre baro to senhor de Bordel E per forsa tornar franc e cortes, Mal estara s'anear vilas non es, Tant que chascus aia. gaug si·lh respon E nols enoi si bels pela nils ton. Anta aura s'aissi pert son afan En Lemozi, on a trait tan quairel E tanta tor, tan mur e tant anvan Fait e desfait, e fondut tan chastel, E tant aver tolt e donat e mes, E tan colp dat e receubut e pres, E tanta fam, tanta set e tan son Corn el a trait d'Agen tro a Nontron. Rassa, per vos remanen sai claman En Lemozi, dessai ves Monmaurel: Per vostre pro avetz fait de lor dan. Som dis n'Aimars e.l senher de Martel E'n Talhafers e'n Folcaus e'n Jaufres. E tuit aicil qu'ab vos s'eron empres: Non an la patz ges per vos en que son, Anz fan lor grat lai al comte Raimon. Una re sapchan Breto e Norman E Angevi, Peitavi e Mancel, Que d'Altasvaus entro a Monferran E de Rosiers entro a Mirabel Noi aura un no veja son arnes; E pois lo coms o vol e sos dreitz es, Deman ades la terra saint Aimon Tro que·lh pausen la cresma sobrel fron. Sirventes, vai a'n Raimon Gauceran Lai a Pinos; en ma razon l'espel, Quar tant aut son sei dit e sei deman De leis que te Cabrera e Seu d'Urgel. A mon fraire en ren gratz e merces De Bergadan, del fin joi que·m trames, Que tot mon cor m'en tornet jauzion, Quan nos partim amdoi al chap del pon. E1 Gauceran Durtz e son fraire en Raimon Am autretan com s'eran mei segon. E2 Si com l'ausel son desotz l'aurion, Son las autras sotz la gensor del mon. |
When orchards show their branches newly flowered, where branches now are red and green and white, there's sweetness that I feel with the New Year: I sing, as well as all the other birds, for I think I'm a bird in many ways: I dare to want the best the world can give, to want, I dare, and have a willing heart, but don't dare tell my heart, and hide from it. I'm not a lover, don't pretend to love; the world courts, talking and declaring love, I do not court, if I'm not worth as much as a false slanderer, boring as he's base, unlearned, vile, and ill-instructed too, has said of me, so that they don't take care, nor note that the most noble one of all thinks I'm amusing, happy, loveable. A man alone can't make a song of love, but I will make a fresh, new sirventes; Our barons think they'll chastise, making war upon the lord and master of Bordeaux, to make him courtly, noble, but by force; if he's no more the villain, that's not good, so let us all be happy for response; don't bother if he skins or fleeces them. He will be shamed, if thus he loses zeal, In Limousin they've shot so many bolts, so many towers and walls and trenches they have made and unmade, ransacked castles and so much in taxes spent or sent abroad, so many blows delivered and received, so much of hunger, thirst and care: enough to fill the space from Agen to Nontron. O Rassa, some still claim on your behalf, in Limousin and down by Montmoreau, on your behalf they've acted to their harm: Martel's lord and Sir Aimar tell me so, Sir Taillefer, Sir Geoffrey, Sir Foucaud, and all those who were in your enterprise: they don't think you have given them their peace but give Count Raymond all their gratitude. One thing is known by Breton, Norman and those of Anjou, Poitou and Maine as well, because from Altavaux to Montferrand and from Rosiers to Mirebeau besides, there'll be no one who hasn't seen his gear; and then the count wants (and he has the right) to keep on asking for Saint Edmund's land until they put the chrism on his brow. Go, sirventes, to Raymond Gaucerand down in los Pinos; this my thought requires, so lofty are his words and his demands against Cabrera and Seo de Urgel. And to my brother, send him many thanks by Bergadan, for joy he's given me, for all my heart is starting to rejoice as at the bridgehead we go separate ways. E1 Gaucerand Durtz and brother Raymond too I love as much as cousins of my own. E2 Just as the bird's beneath allerions, all others are below the noblest one. |
Trans. Copyright © James H. Donalson 2005