CHAZUTZ SUI DE MAL EN PENA ... I HAVE FALLEN INTO PAIN ...
Bertrans de Born trans. James H. Donalson
(from Provençal)
Chazutz sui de mal en pena
Quar vau lai ol cors mi mena,
Don jamais
No·m descharjarai del fais,
Quar mes m'a en tal chadena
Don malha nos deschadena,
Quar m'atrais
Ab un esgart de biais
Una gaia, lisa, Lena.
Fait ai lonja quarantena,
Mas oimais
Sui al dijous de la Cena.

Tant es d'amorosa mena
Que morrai, si no m'estrena
D'un douz bais.
Mas en trop d'orgolh m'eslais:
De tota beutat terrena
An pretz las tres de Torena
Fis, verais;
Mas il es sobre lor mais
Que non es aurs sobre arena;
E no volh aver Ravena
Ni Roais,
Sens cuidar que no·m retena.

Jamais non er cortz complia
Ont om no gab ni no ria:
Cortz sens dos
Non es mas parcs de baros;
E agram mort sens falhia
L'enois e la vilania
D'Argentos,
Mas lo gens corps amoros
E la doussa chara pia
E la bona companhia
El respos
De la Saissam defendia.

Re en beutat no galia
Ni fai nula fantaumia
Lo joios,
Joves, gens corps amoros,
Anz gensa qui la deslia;
E ont om plus n'ostaria
Garnizos,
Seria'n plus envejos,
Que la noit fai semblar dia
La gola, e qui·n vezia
Plus en jos,
Tot to mon en gensaria.

Donc be·s tanh qu'Amors m'aucia,
Per la gensor qu'el mon sia
En perdos,
Que quan remir sas faissos,
Conosc que ja non er mia,
Que chausir pot, si·s··volia,
De·ls plus pros,
Chastelas o rics baros,
Qu'en leis es la senhoria
De pretz e de cortesia,
De gens dos
E de far que be l'estia.

E
Domna, sai en Normandia
Sui per vos la noit e·l dia
A pensos,
Que·l vostre gens corps joios
Me sembla qu'ades me ria.
 I have fallen into pain,
and I go where body leads
and I can't
unload all that burdens me;
for I'm bound by such a chain
as will not release its links:
I am drawn
by a sidewise glance from her
to a cool and gay Elaine.
After passing through my Lent,
finally
I have come to Maundy Thursday.

She's of such a loving mien
that I'll die unless she gives
just a kiss ...
but I'm hasty, and presume
for all earthly beauty's in
those three ladies of Turenne,
fine and true ...
but she's higher over them
than gold's higher, over sand,
and Ravenna'd have no charms
nor Roais,
without knowing I could hold her.

Courts can never be complete
if there are no jokes and laughs;
without gifts,
courts are only barons' barns.
Boredom and vulgarity
very nearly killed me in
Argenton,
but the noble, loving wit
and the sweet and tender face
and the good companionship
and the chats
with the Saxon lady saved me.

Nothing in her beauty's false,
there is no illusion there,
all the joy,
young and noble, loveable
body: nobler if unlaced;
and the more that you undress
of her clothes,
all the more fired up you'll be,
and the night turns into day
when you get to see her breast.
Farther down,
all the world will shine more brightly.

Love can kill me, it's all right,
for the loveliest in the world:
it's a loss:
when I see her features there
I know that she won't be mine,
she can choose if she but wants
from the best:
Castellans and powerful,
for she has the mastery
of virtue and courtesy,
noble gifts,
and the best behaviour also.

E
Lady, here in Normandy
I am with you night and day
in my thoughts,
for your kind and happy wit
I believe smiles at me always.
Translator's note: Roais was classical Edessa, modern Urfa, meaning: distant riches.
Trans. Copyright © James H. Donalson 2005 







VB40 next


VB40 index


Other index