| FARAI UN VERS DE DREYT NIEN ... |
I'VE MADE THIS RHYME COMPLETELY FREE OF SENSE ... |
| William IX, Duke of Aquitaine | trans. Leonard Cottrell (from Provençal) |
|
Farai un vers de dreyt nien: non er de mi ni d'autra gen, non er d'amor ni de joven, ni de ren au, qu'enans fo trobatz en durmen sobre chevau. No sai en qual hora·m fuy natz: no suy alegres ni iratz, no suy estrayns ni sui privatz, ni no·n puesc au, qu'enaissi fuy de nueitz fadatz, sobr' un pueg au. No sai quora·m suy endurmitz ni quora·m velh, s'om no m'o ditz. Per pauc no m'es lo cor partitz d'un dol corau: e no m'o pretz una soritz, per sanh Marsau! Malautz suy e tremi murir, e ren no·n sai mas quan n'aug dir; metge querrai al mieu albir, e no sai cau; bos metges er si·m pot guerir, mas non, si amau. Amigu' ai ieu, no sai qui s'es, qu'anc non la vi, si m'ajut fes; ni·m fes que·m plassa ni que·m pes, ni no m'en cau, qu'anc non ac Norman ai Frances dins mon ostau. Anc non la vi et am la fort, anc no n'aic dreyt ni no·m fes tort; quan non la vey, be m'en deport, no·m pretz un jau, qu'ie·n sai fensor et bellazor, e que mais vau. Fag ai lo vers, no say de cuy; e trametrai lo a selhuy que lo·m trametra per autruy lay vers Anjau, que·m tramezes del sieu estuy la contraclau. |
I've made this rhyme completely free of sense - it's not of you and me, or youth, or doings he-and-she, or springtime thoughts. It came to me while I was sleeping on my horse. What planet ruled when I was born? I'm native here and still feel foreign. Can't be contented, or forlorn, or change myself: I was the midnight work of freaking magic elves. I can't tell when I wake or sleep unless the others keep me briefed. It almost breaks my heart - I'm deeply plagued by doubts, and none of them, by Saint Martial, is worth a mouse. They say I'll soon be dropping dead Fetch that doctor, quick! - I said - his name has just escaped my head. No matter who: he's bad if I do not get well, good if I do. My lady friend I've never seen: I don't know if she's cute or plain, or if she's kind to me or mean. Why should I care? - I don't let French and Normans stay the night in here. My passion's absolutely strong but she won't do me right, or wrong. Avoiding her I get along just fine. Forget her: I've others nicer anyway who please me better. This verse I've made - of what or who unknown - I'll send to someone who will send it on to someone who is in Anjou, who might decode it and convey the key to you. |
Click here 2 for another translation of this poem.
For more of this translator's work see: http://planck.com/rhymedtranslations/versetrans.htm
Trans. Copyright © Leonard Cottrell 2001