| AI! S'IEU POGUES M'AVENTURA SABER ... |
AH! COULD I TELL WHAT HAPPENED ONCE TO ME ... | |
| attr. Bernart de Ventadorn, probably Daude de Pradas |
trans. James H. Donalson (from Provençal) | |
|
Ai! s'ieu pogues m'aventura saber lo jorn qu'ieu vinc, pros dompna, denant vos, los huelhs e·l cor mi clauzera, per ver, quez ieu no vis vostras bellas faissos ni non auzis vostre parlar plazen ni remires vostr'amoros cors gen, qu'el fuec d'amor mi fai murir e viure. Dieus! per que,m dis tan avinen plazer? que lai mi falh on mi ve plus coitos. joi mi promet, e quan lo cug aver, sui ne plus luenh no vei dels huelhs amdos. ai! si er ja qu'ilh m'aya chauzimen? oc, ben leu lai, quant hom el monumen m'aura pauzat, fara mon nom escriure! Ai! ta mal n'ai, segon mon bon esper, cum soudadiers, qu'es del tot bezonhos, que fer en torr, de qu'e no·s pot mover, e quan re quier, hom li's de belh respos e no·n a als. Tot atressi m'en pren, qu'ieu quier e quier, e·l jois va·m defugen que m'es promes, que cug penre desliure. Et ab lieis meinhs que m'en degra valer paratges, pretz, beutatz, ricx cors joyos e sa valors, que fai mout gen saber en ricas cortz de reis, d'autres baros, e notz m'en mais quar l'am tan francamen; e Dieus vuelha, blasmes non l'an seguen, qu'om la-n repte sai, e lai part Cogliure. On plus hi a dompnas, mais sap valer denan totas, on mais n'i a de pros; e lauzor a de totz, ses retener, que la vezon gensar totas sazos. e sa beutatz gens' ades per un cen, on mais hi a dompnas e belh joven, pascor, estiu et ivern freg ab giure. |
Ah! could I tell what happened once to me the day I came, good lady, up to you: my eyes and heart I close, so I can see, for I'd not seen fair features that are yours, nor had I heard your pleasant-sounding speech, nor looked upon your noble, lovely frame, for fire of love to make me live and die. Heaven! why give me a pleasure that's so sweet, but fails me just when I am eagerest: just when I think I have its promised joy, I'm never farther, seeing with my eyes; Ah! what is there that I may choose from now, yes, when they place a monument to me, they'll rest me easily and write any name. Ah! it is not so bad with me, I trust, as soldiers who indeed are needed now, irons in the tower, from which one won't be moved, and when one seeks, he gets a good response; none other, but it's otherwise with me, I look and look, but joy goes flitting off though promised me, while I thought it was free. With her less than with me, good things will count: nobility, praise, beauty, joyous heart, her worth as well, as many men make known, in noble courts of kings and barons too: it's more to me, since freely I love her and may God will, no blame will follow her, to be the gossip here or past Colliure. Wherever ladies are, she's worth the more before them, where the best of them abound, and she has praise from all, without reserve; we see her getting nobler all the time: her noble beauty's worth a hundred more, where mainly ladies are and handsome youth, in Springtime, Summer, Winter cold with ice. |
Trans. Copyright © James H. Donalson 2005