| POIS PREYATZ ME, SENHOR ... | SINCE YOU ASK ME, KIND SIR ... |
| Bernart de Ventadorn | trans. James H. Donalson (from Provençal) |
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Pois preyatz me, senhor, qu'eu chan, eu chantarai; e can cuit chantar, plor a l'ora c'o essai. greu veiretz chantador, be chan, si mal li vai. vai me doncs mal d'amor? ans melhs que no fetz mai! e doncs, per que m'esmai? Gran ben e gran onor conosc que Deus me fai, qu'eu am la bel azor et ilh me (qu'eu o sai). mas eu sui sai, alhor, e no sai com l'estai! so m'auci de dolor, car ochaizo non ai de soven venir lai. Empero tan me plai can de leis me sove, que qui·m crida ni·m brai, eu no·n au nula re. tan dousamen me trai la bela·l cor de se, que tals ditz qu'eu sui sai et o cuid, et o cre, que de sos olhs no·m ve. Amors, e que·m farai? si guerrai ja ab te? ara cuit qu·en morrai del dezirer que·m ve, si·lh bela lai on jai no m'aizis pres de se, qu'eu la manei e bai et estrenha vas me so cors blanc, gras e le. Ges d'amor no·m recre per mal ni per afan; e can Deus m'i fai be, no·l refut ni·l soan; e can bes no m'ave, sai be sofrir lo dan, c'a las oras cove c'om s'an entrelonhan per melhs salhir enan. Bona domna, merce del vostre fin aman! qu'e·us pliu per bona fe c'anc re non amei tan. mas jonchas, ab col cle, vos m'autrei e·m coman; e si locs s'esdeve, vos me fatz bel semblan, que molt n'ai gran talan! E1 Mon Escuder e me don Deus cor e talan c'amdui n'anem truan, E2 Et el en men ab se so don a plus talan, et en Mon Aziman! |
Since you ask me, kind sir, to sing, I'll sing for you: but when I start, I cry the moment that I try. You won't find ones who sing so well, when all is wrong: so has my love gone wrong? It's never been so good, so why am I so sad? Great honor and great good I know that God does me: I love the fairest one, and she loves me, I know, but I am here, not there, and don't know how she is, so grief is killing me because I've no excuse for often going there. However, I'm so pleased when I remember her that when they shout at me I don't hear anything, so sweetly she can draw the heart out of my breast. They say that I am here and they think and believe that she cannot see me. Then, Love, what shall I do if I am healed by you? but I think that I'll die from longings that I have: and if, there where she lies she'd only hold me close, to let me pet and kiss; and move her body close: so rounded, white and smooth. But I don't leave off love for illness or distress; when God does me some good I don't refuse or scorn, and when there is no good I'll suffer any harm, for oftentimes it's good to take a backward step to make a forward leap. Good lady, mercy on the one who's your true love: I pledge you in good faith, I've never loved so much. Hands folded and neck bent, permit me and command and if you have a chance, then let me see your smile, for such is my desire. E1 Now, to my squire and me, may God give mind and will, that both may go about; E2 and he may bring with him whatever he likes most, and I 'My Magnet', too! |
Trans. Copyright © James H. Donalson 2004