70 Bernart de Ventadorn


Bernautz de Ventadorn (Old Occitan spelling), as depicted in a medieval vida.
Bernart de Ventadorn (Catalan pronunciation: [bərˈnard də βəntəˈðorn]; 1130/1140 – 1190/1200), also known as Bernard de Ventadour or Bernat del Ventadorn, was a prominent troubadour of the classical age of troubadour poetry. Now thought of as "the Master Singer" he developed the cançons into a more formalized style which allowed for sudden turns. He is remembered for his mastery as well as popularisation of the trobar leu style, and for his prolific cançons, which helped define the genre and establish the "classical" form of courtly love poetry, to be imitated and reproduced throughout the remaining century and a half of troubadour activity.
Bernart was known for being able to portray his woman as a divine agent in one moment and then in a sudden twist, portraying her as Eve, the cause of man's initial sin. This dichotomy in his work is portrayed in a "graceful, witty, and polished" medium.
According to the troubadour Uc de Saint Circ, Bernart was possibly the son of a baker at the castle of Ventadour (Ventadorn), in today's Corrèze (France). Yet another source, a satirical poem written by a younger contemporary, Peire d'Alvernha, indicates that he was the son of either a servant, a soldier, or a baker, and his mother was also either a servant or a baker. From evidence given in Bernart's early poem Lo temps vai e ven e vire, he most likely learned the art of singing and writing from his protector, viscount Eble III of Ventadorn. He composed his first poems to his patron's wife, Marguerite de Turenne.
Forced to leave Ventadour after falling in love with Marguerite, he traveled to Montluçon and Toulouse, and eventually followed Eleanor of Aquitaine to England and the Plantagenet court; evidence for this association and these travels comes mainly from his poems themselves. Later Bernart returned to Toulouse, where he was employed by Raimon V, Count of Toulouse; later still he went to Dordogne, where he entered a monastery. Most likely he died there. About 45 of his works survive.
Bernart is unique among secular composers of the twelfth century in the amount of music which has survived: of his forty-five poems, eighteen have music intact, an unusual circumstance for a troubador composer (music of the trouvères has a higher survival rate, usually attributed to them surviving the Albigensian Crusade, which scattered the troubadours and destroyed many sources). His work probably dates between 1147 and 1180. Bernart is often credited with being the most important influence on the development of the trouvère tradition in northern France, since he was well known there, his melodies were widely circulated, and the early composers of trouvère music seem to have imitated him. Bernart's influence also extended to Latin literature. In 1215 the Bolognese professor Boncompagno wrote in his Antiqua rhetorica that "How much fame attaches to the name of Bernard de Ventadorn, and how gloriously he made cansos and sweetly invented melodies, the world of Provence very much recognises."
On screen, Bernart was portrayed by actor Paul Blake in the BBC TV drama series The Devil's Crown (1978).
In the final fragment (Canto CXX) of his epic poem The Cantos, American expatriate poet Ezra Pound, who had a lifelong fascination with the trouveres and troubadours of Provence and southern France, quotes from Bernart's Can vei la lauzeta twice.


70,1 Ab joi mou lo vers e.l comens


 Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 3 track 3 (Sandra Hurtado Ros) *****

Ab joi mou lo vers e.l comens
Et ab joi reman e fenis!
E sol que bona fos la fis,
Bos tenh qu'er lo comensamens.
Per la bona comensansa
Me ve jois et alegransa !
E per so dei la bona fi grazir,
Car totz bos faihz vei lauzar al fenir.

Si m'apodera jois e.m vens:
Meravilh' es com o sofris
Car no dic e non esbruis
Per cui sui tan gais e jauzens !
Mas greu veiretz fin' amansa
Ses paor e ses doptansa ,
C'ades tem om vas so c'ama, falhir,
no.m par bos essenhamens,
Ans es foli' et efansa
Qui d'amor a benanansa
Ni.n vol so cor ad autre descobrir,
Si no l'en pot o valer o servir.

Non es enois ni falhimens
Ni vilania, so m'es vis,
Mas d'ome can se fai devis
D'autrui amor ni conoissens.
Enoyos e que.us enansa,
Si.m faitz enoi ni pesansa
Chascus se vol de so mestier formir!
Me cofondetz, e vos no.n vei jauzir.

Ben estai a domn' ardimens
Entr' avols gens e mals vezis !
E s'arditz cors no l'afortis,
Greu pot esser pros ni valens !
Per qu'eu prec, n'aya membransa
La bel'en cui ai fiansa,
Que no.s chamje per paraulas ni.s vir,
Qu'enemics c'ai, fatz d'enveya morir .

Anc sa bela bocha rizens
Non cuidei, baizan me trais,
Car ab un doutz baizar m'aucis,
Si ab autre no m'es guirens !
C'atretal m'es per semblansa
Com de Pelaus la lansa,
Que del seu colp no podi' om garir,
Si autra vetz no s'en fezes ferir .

Bela domna, .l vostre cors gens
E.lh vostre belh olh m'an conquis,
E.l doutz esgartz e lo clars vis,
E.l vostre bels essenhamens,
Que, can be m'en pren esmansa,
De beutat no.us trob egansa :
La genser etz c'om posch' el mon chauzir,
O no i vei clar dels olhs ab que.us remir.

Bels Vezers, senes doptansa
Sai que vostre pretz enansa,
Que tantz sabetz de plazers far e dir:
De vos amar no.s pot nuls om sofrir .

Ben dei aver alegransa,
Qu'en tal domn' ai m'esperansa,
Que, qui.n ditz mal, no pot plus lag mentir,
E qui.n ditz be, no pot plus bel ver dir.


70,3 Amors enquera.us preyara

topsfiled 133

Amors, enquera.us preyara
Que.m fossetz plus amoroza,
C'us paucs bes desadolora
Gran re de mal ! e paregra
S'era n'aguessetz merce.
Car de me no.us en sove
Mas e.m pes qu'enaissi.m prenha
Com fetz al comensamen,
Can me mis al cor la flama
De leis que.m fetz estar len,
C'anc no m'en detz jauzimen.

Mout viu a gran aliscara
Et ab dolor angoissoza
Selh cui totz tems assenhora
Mala domna ! qu'eu m'estegra
Jauzens, mas aissi m'ave
Que leis cui dezir, no cre
Qu'eu l'am tan c'a mi covenha
L'onors ni.l bes qu'eu n'aten!
Et a.n tort, c'als no reclama
Mos cors mas leis solamen
E so c'a leis es plazen.

Totz tems de leis me lauzara,
S'era.m fos plus volontoza,
C'amors, qui.l cor enamora,
M'en det - mais no.m n'escazegra
Non plazers, mas sabetz que
Envey' e dezir ancse
E s'a leis platz que.m retenha,
Far pot de me so talen,
Melhs no fa.l vens de la rama
Qu'enaissi vau leis seguen
Com la folha sec lo ven.

Tant es fresch' e bel' e clara
Qu'amors n'es vas me doptoza ,
Car sa beutatz alugora
Bel jorn e clarzis noih negra!
Tuit sei fait on mielz cove,
Son fin e de beutaz ple!\
No.n dic laus, mas mortz mi venha
S'eu no l'am de tot mo sen !
Mas, domn', Amors m'enliama,
Que.m fai dir soven e gen
De vos manh vers avinen.

Doussa res, conhd' et avara,
Umils, franch' et orgolhoza,
Bel' e genser c'ops no fora,
Domna, per merce.us queregra,
Car vos am mais c'autra re,
Que.us prezes merces de me,
Car tem que mortz me destrenha,
Si pietatz no.us en pren.
E s'eu mor, car mos cors ama
Vos, vas cui res no.m defen,
Tem que i fassatz falhimen.

Soven plor tan que la chara
N'ai destrech' e vergonhoza,
E.l vis s'en dezacolora,
Car vos, don jauzir me degra,
Pert, que de me no.us sove .
E no.m don Deus de vos be,
S'eu sai ses vos co.m chaptenha,
C'aitan doloirozamen
Viu com cel que mor en flama !
E si tot no.m fatz parven,

Nulhs om menhs de joi no sen .

70,4 Amors, e que·us es vejaire

Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 3 track 4 (Jan de Melhau?) **

Amors, e que·us es vejaire
Trobatz mais fol mas can me 
Cuidatz vos qu'eu si' amaire
E que ja no trop merce 
Que que.m comandetz a faire,
Farai o, c'aissi.s cove!
Mas vos non estai ges be
Que.m fassatz tostems mal traire.

 Eu am la plus de bon aire
Del mon mais que nula re!
Et ela no m'ama gaire!
No sai cossi.s esdeve 
E can plus m'en cuit estraire,
Eu no posc, c'Amors me te.
Traitz sui per bona fe,
Amors, be.us o posc retraire

 Ab Amor m'er a contendre,
Que no m'en posc estener,
Qu'en tal loc me fai entendre
Don eu nul joi non esper
Anceis me fari' a pendre
Car anc n'aic cor ni voler!
Mas eu non ai ges poder
Que.m posca d'Amor defendre.

 Pero Amors sap dissendre
Lai on li ven a plazer,
E sap gen guizardo rendre
Del maltraih e del doler.
Tan no.m pot mertsar ni vendre
Que plus no.m poscha valer,
Sol ma domna.m denhes vezer
E mas paraulas entendre.

 Qu'eu sai be razon e chauza
Que posc' a midons mostrar:
Que nuls om no pot ni auza
Enves Amor contrastar!
Car Amors vens tota chauza
E forsa.m de leis amar!
Atretal se pot leis far
En una petita pauza

 Grans enois es e grans nauza
Tot jorn de merce clamar!
Mas l'amor qu'es en me clauza,
No posc cobrir ni celar.
Las mos cors no dorm ni pauza
Ni pot en un loc estar,
Ni eu no posc plus durar
Si.lh dolors no.m asoauza.

 Domna, res no vos pot dire
Lo bo cor ni.l fin talan
Qu'e.us ai, can be m'o cossire,
C'anc re mais non amei tan.
Tost m'agran mort li sospire,
Domna, passat a un an ,
No.m fos per un bel semblan,
Don si doblan mei dezire .

 No.n fatz mas gabar e rire,
Domna, can eu re.us deman!
E si vos amassetz tan ,
Alres vos n'avengr' a dire .

 Ma chanson apren a dire,
Alegret! e tu, Ferran,
Porta la.m a mo Tristan,
Que sap be gabar e rire .

 Love,what do you think?
Can you ever find anyone more foolish than me?
Do you think I be a lover and never find mercy?
Whatever you command of me to do, 
I willl do, for that is right.
But it is not at all becoming of you 
to make me suffer all the time.(Topsfield115)




































It is great tribulation and sorrow
to ask for mercy everyday,
but I cannot cover up or hide the love
which is enclosed within me.
Alas! my heart does not sleep or rest
and cannot stay in one place,
and I cannot endure any longer,
if my grief is not assuaged.








You do nothing but jest and laugh about it,
my lady,when I ask anything of you.
and if you were as much in love as I,
you would be compelled to say more than that.

70,6 Ara.m cosselhatz, senhor 

Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 3 track 5 (Sandra Hurtado Ros) *****

Ara.m cosselhatz, senhor ,
Vos c'avetz saber e sen :
Una domna.m det s'amor,
C'ai amada lonjamen!
Mas eras sai de vertat
Qu'ilh a autr' amic privat,
Ni anc de nul companho
Companha tan greus no.m fo.

D'una re sui en error
E.n estau en pensamen :
Que m'alonje ma dolor,
S'eu aquest plaih li cossen,
E s'aissi.l dic mon pessat,
Vei mo damnatge doblat.
Cal que.n fassa o cal que no,
Re no posc far de mo pro.

E s'eu l'am a dezonor,
Esquerns er a tota gen !
E tenran m'en li pluzor
Per cornut e per sofren.
E s'aissi pert s'amistat,
Be.m tenh per dezeretat
D'amor, e ja Deus no.m do
Mais faire vers ni chanso .

Pois voutz sui en la folor,
Be serai fols, s'eu no pren
D'aquestz dos mals lo menor!
Que mais val, mon essien,
Qu'eu ay' en leis la meitat
Que.l tot perda per foldat,
Car anc a nul drut felo
D'amor no vi far son pro.

Pois vol autre amador
Ma domn', eu no lo.lh defen!
E lais m'en mais per paor
Que per autre chauzimen!
E s'anc om dec aver grat
De nul servizi forsat,
Be dei aver guizerdo
Eu, que tan gran tort rdo .

Li seu belh olh traidor,
Que m'esgardavon tan gen,
S'atressi gardon alhor,
Mout i fan gran falhimen !
Mas d'aitan m'an mout onrat
Que, s'eron mil ajostat,
Plus gardon lai on eu so,
C'a totz aicels d'eviro.

De l'aiga que dels olhs plor,
Escriu salutz mais de cen,
Que tramet a la gensor
Et a la plus avinen.
Manhtas vetz m'es pois membrat
De so que.m fetz al comjat:
Que.lh vi cobrir sa faisso,
C'anc no.m poc dir oc ni no .

Domna, a prezen amat
Autrui, e me a celat,
Si qu'eu n'aya tot lo pro
Et el la bela razo .

Garsio, ara.m chantat
Ma chanso, e la.m portat
A mo Messager, qu'i fo,
Qu'e.lh quer cosselh qu'el me do .


 Now give me counsel, Lords, 
you who are wise and intelligent. 
A lady, whom I long loved,
gave me her love. 
But now I know for sure 
that she has another lover in secret,
and never the company of another 
companion was so hard to bear.

 One thing torments me
and makes me pause for thought;
that I prolong my suffering
if I agree to this case.
And if I say what I think,
I see my injuries doubled. 
Whatever I do, or don't do,
I can't do myself any good.

And if I love her in dishonor, 
I shall be scorned by all; 
and the majority will consider
me a passive cuckold. 
But if I lose her friendship, 
I hold myself disinherited by love,
and may God never permit me again 
to compose verses and songs.

 Since I am involved in madness, 
I should be mad if I did not chose
the lesser of these two evils. 
for it is better, in my opinion, 
to have half of her than to loose 
everything through folly; 
for I have never seen an unfaithful lover 
win out for himself in love.

 Since you want another lover, 
my lady, I shall not forbid it. 
And I agree more from fear
than from anything else. 
And if ever someone should be 
grateful for forced labor, 
I should be rewarded, 
who have pardoned so great a wrong.

Her beautiful traitor eyes
that once looked on me with much gentleness,
if they look like that elsewhere
they do wrong,great wrong;
yes, but they have me this great honor;
when a thousand people were gathered together,
there-they look to where I am
more than to all the others around.

 With the water that flows from my eyes, 
I send greetings, more than a hundred,
that I transmit to the most fair and noble one.
Often do I remember what 
she would do on parting
-- how she would cover her face,
so that she would be saying 
neither yes nor no.

 Lady , in public love
the other one, and me in private
so that I get the good of it,
and he the edifying conversation.

 Garsio, now go and sing my song, 
and bring it to my Messenger, 
who was there, and to whom I demand 
what counsel he [she] would give.
(Goldin 140)

70,7 Ara no vei luzir solelh

Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 3 track 6 (Isabelle Bonnadier) ***
Ara no vei luzir solelh,
Tan me son escurzit li rai!
E ges per aisso no.m esmai,
C'una clardatz me solelha
D'amor, qu'ins el cor me raya!
E, can autra gens s'esmaya,
Eu melhur enans que sordei,
Per que mos chans no sordeya.

Prat me semblon vert e vermelh
Aissi com el doutz tems de mai !
Si.m te fin' amors conhd' e gai :
Neus m'es flors blanch' e vermelha
Et iverns calenda maya ,
Que.l genser e la plus gaya
M'a promes que s'amor m'autrei.
S'anquer no la.m desautreya

Paor mi fan malvatz cosselh ,
Per que.l segles mor e dechai!
C'aras s'ajoston li savai
E l'us ab l'autre cosselha
Cossi fin' amors dechaya.
A malvaza gens savaya,
Qui vos ni vostre cosselh crei,
Domnideu perd'e descreya.

D'aquestz mi rancur e.m corelh
Qu'ira me fan, dol et esglai,
E pesa lor del joi qu'eu ai.
E pois chascus s'en corelha
De l'autrui joi ni s'esglaya,
Ja eu melhor dreih no.n aya,
C'ab sol deport venz' e guerrei
Cel que plus fort me guerreya .

Noih e jorn pes, cossir e velh,
Planh e sospir ! e pois m'apai.
On melhs m'estai, et eu peihz trai.
Mas us bos respeihz m'esvelha,
Don mos cossirers s'apaya.
Fols per que dic que mal traya
Car aitan rich' amor envei,
Pro n'ai de sola l'enveya

Ja ma domna no.s meravelh
Si.lh quer que.m do s'amor ni.m bai
Contra la foudat qu'eu retrai,
Fara i genta meravelha
S'ilh ja m'acola ni.m baya.
Deus s'er ja c'om me retraya
--A cal vos vi e cal vos vei --
Per benanansa que.m veya

Fin' Amor, ab vos m'aparelh!
Pero no.s cove ni s'eschai ,
Mas car per vostra merce.us plai
--Deus cuit que m'o aparelha--
C'aitan fin' amors m'eschaya.
Ai, domna, per merce.us playa
C'ayatz de vostr' amic mercei,
Pus aitan gen vos merceya

Bernartz clama sidons mercei,
Vas cui tan gen se merceya .

E si eu en breu no la vei,
Non crei que lonjas la veya .

 Now I cannot see the light of the sun,
so much are its rays darkened for me.
I am not at all distressed by this
for a light as brilliant as the sun
shines upon me from the love,
which casts its rays into my heart;
and although other people are confused and dismayed
I grow better rather than worse, and so my song does not decline.

The meadow seems to me green and scarlet
as in the sweet maytime.
So firmly does true love keep me happy and joyful
that the snow is white and scarlet blossom to me
and the winter is the calends of May,
for the most gracious and joyous lady has promised to grant me her love.

 Will she not go back on her word to me again?

 ................
.................
for now base men come together
and take counsel with another to see
how true love may be impaired.

70,8 A tantas bonas chansos


 Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 3 track 7 (Sandra Hurtado Ros) ***


A tantas bonas chansos
E tan bo vers aurai faih,
Don ja no.m mezer' en plaih ,
Domna, si.m pesses de vos
Que fossetz vas me tan dura.
Aras sai qu'e.us ai perduda
Mas sivals no m'etz tolguda
En la mia forfachura.

Vers es que manhtas sazos
M'era be dih e retraih
Que m'estara mal e laih
C'ames et amatz no fos.
Mas lai on Amors s'atura,
Er greu forsa defenduda,
Si so coratge no muda
Si c'alhors meta sa cura.

Mas era sui tan joyos
Que no.m sove del maltraih.
D'ira e d'esmai m'a traih
Ab sos bels olhs amoros,
De que.m poizon' e.m fachura,
Cilh que m'a joya renduda,
C'anc pois qu'eu l'agui veguda,
Non agui sen ni mezura .

Mout i fetz Amors que pros,
Car tan ric joi m'a pertraih.
Tot can m'avia forfaih,
Val ben aquest guizerdos.
Aissi.l fenis ma rancura,
Que sa valors e s'ayuda
M'es a tal cocha venguda :
Totz sos tortz i adrechura .

Qui ve sas belas faissos,
Ab que m'a vas se atraih,
Pot be saber atrazaih
Que sos cors es bels e bos
E blancs sotz la vestidura
--Eu non o dic mas per cuda --
Que la neus, can ilh es nuda ,
Par vas lei brun' et escura.

Domna, si' st fals enveyos,
Que mainh bo jorn m'an estraih,
S'i metion en agaih
Per saber com es de nos,
Per dih d'avol gen tafura
Non estetz ges esperduda:
Ja per me non er saubuda
L'amors! be.n siatz segura

Bels Vezers, un'aventura
Avetz, et es ben saubuda:
Qued om que.us aya veguda,
De vos no fara rancura.

Chanso, vai t'en a La Mura
Mo Bel Vezer me saluda.
Qui c'aya valor perduda,
La sua creis e melhura.lonjas la veya .

A tantas bonas chansos
E tan bo vers aurai faih,
Don ja no.m mezer' en plaih ,
Domna, si.m pesses de vos
Que fossetz vas me tan dura.
Aras sai qu'e.us ai perduda
Mas sivals no m'etz tolguda
En la mia forfachura.

Vers es que manhtas sazos
M'era be dih e retraih
Que m'estara mal e laih
C'ames et amatz no fos.
Mas lai on Amors s'atura,
Er greu forsa defenduda,
Si so coratge no muda
Si c'alhors meta sa cura.

Mas era sui tan joyos
Que no.m sove del maltraih.
D'ira e d'esmai m'a traih
Ab sos bels olhs amoros,
De que.m poizon' e.m fachura,
Cilh que m'a joya renduda,
C'anc pois qu'eu l'agui veguda,
Non agui sen ni mezura .

Mout i fetz Amors que pros,
Car tan ric joi m'a pertraih.
Tot can m'avia forfaih,
Val ben aquest guizerdos.
Aissi.l fenis ma rancura,
Que sa valors e s'ayuda
M'es a tal cocha venguda :
Totz sos tortz i adrechura .

Qui ve sas belas faissos,
Ab que m'a vas se atraih,
Pot be saber atrazaih
Que sos cors es bels e bos
E blancs sotz la vestidura
--Eu non o dic mas per cuda --
Que la neus, can ilh es nuda ,
Par vas lei brun' et escura.

Domna, si' st fals enveyos,
Que mainh bo jorn m'an estraih,
S'i metion en agaih
Per saber com es de nos,
Per dih d'avol gen tafura
Non estetz ges esperduda:
Ja per me non er saubuda
L'amors! be.n siatz segura

Bels Vezers, un'aventura
Avetz, et es ben saubuda:
Qued om que.us aya veguda,
De vos no fara rancura.

Chanso, vai t'en a La Mura
Mo Bel Vezer me saluda.
Qui c'aya valor perduda,
La sua creis e melhura.























for ever since I saw her I have had
neither wisdom, nor a sense of proportion


70,9 Bel m,es can eu vei la brolha

topsfield 132

Bel m'es can eu vei la brolha
Reverdir per mei lo brolh
E.lh ram son cubert de folha
E.l rossinhols sotz lo folh
Chanta d'amor, don me dolh!
E platz me qued eu m'en dolha,
Ab sol qued amar me volha
Cela qu'eu dezir e volh.

Eu la volh can plus s'orgolha
Vas me, mas oncas orgolh
N'ac vas lei . per so m'acolha
Ma domna, pois tan l'acolha
C'a totas autras me tolh
Per lei, cui Deus no me tolha.
Ans li do cor qu'en grat colha
So que totz jorns s'amor colh.

S'amor colh, qui m'enpreizona,
Per lei que mala preizo
Me fai, c'ades m'ochaizona
D'aisso don ai ochaizo.
Tort n'a, mas eu lo.lh perdo,
E mos cors li reperdona,
Car tan la sai bel' e bona
Que tuih li mal m'en son bo.

Bo son tuih li mal que.m dona!
Mas per Deu li quer un do:
Que ma bocha, que jeona,
D'un douz baizar dejeo.
Mas trop quer gran guizardo
Celei que tan guizardona!
E can eu l'en arazona,
Ilh me chamja ma razo.

Ma razo chamja e vira!
Mas eu ges de lei no.m vir
Mo fi cor, que la dezira
Aitan que tuih mei dezir
Son de lei per cui sospir.
E car ela no sospira,
Sai qu'en lei ma mortz se mira ,
Can sa gran beutat remir.

Ma mort remir, que jauzir
No.n posc ni no.n sui jauzire!
Mas eu sui tan bos sofrire
C'atendre cuit per sofrir.		 It pleases me to see the trees
turning green in the middle of the forest,
when the branches are covered with leaves
and the nightingale under the leaves
sings of love,
that from which I suffer.
And it pleases me to suffer from love,
if only she whom I desire wants to love me.

 I want her, though she is haughty towards me,
but I have never been haughty towards her.
May thus my lady welcome me,
since I welcome her so well
that I abandon all the others for her,
provided that God does not abandon me.
May it inspire in her rather the desire to acknowledge the fact
that I acknowledge each day her love in me.

 I acknowledge her love that imprisons me,
for her who casts me into a bad prison.
Now she reproaches me things
for which I bear her reproach.
Wrong she is, but I pardon her,
and my heart pardons her, for I know
the season to be fair and good,
and that all wrongs to me are good.

 Good are all the wrongs she does me,
but I ask God one gift:
that my mouth, which is fasting,
receive from her a sweet kiss as break-fast.
I demand too great a reward of she
who rewards so generously;
and when I reason to her,
she changes my reasons.

 My reason changes and shifts,
but I hardly change at all my faithful heart,
which desires her so much
that all my desires are for her
for whom I sigh.
And since she does not sigh [for me],
I know that in her my death is contemplated, when I contemplate her great beauty.

 I contemplate my death,
since I cannot pleasure in her 
and am not pleasured.
But I am such a good patient
that I can await in pat

70,12 Be m'an perdut lai enves Ventadorn





Be m'an perdut lai enves Ventadorn
Tuih mei amic, pois ma domna no m'ama!
Et es be dreihz que ja mais lai no torn,
C'ades estai vas me salvatj' e grama.
Ve.us per que.m fai semblan irat e morn:
Car en s'amor me deleih e.m sojorn
Ni de ren als no.s rancura ni.s clama .

Aissi co.l peis qui s'eslaiss' el cadorn
E no.n sap mot, tro que s'es pres en l'ama,
M'eslaissei eu vas trop amar un jorn ,
C'anc no.m gardei, tro fui en mei la flama,
Que m'art plus fort, no.m feira focs de forn!
E ges per so no.m posc partir un dorn,
Aissi.m te pres d'amors e m'aliama.

No.m meravilh si s'amors me te pres,
Que genser cors no crei qu'el mon se mire:
Bels e blancs es, e frescs e gais e les
E totz aitals com eu volh e dezire.
No posc dir mal de leis, que non i es!
Qu'e.l n'agra dih de joi, s'eu li saubes!
Mas no li sai, per so m'en lais de dire.

Totz tems volrai sa onor e sos bes
E.lh serai om et amics e servire,
E l'amarai, be li plass' o be.lh pes,
C'om no pot cor destrenher ses aucire.
No sai domna, volgues o no volgues,
Si.m volia, c'amar no la pogues.
Mas totas res pot om en mal escrire .

A las autras sui aissi eschazutz !
La cals se vol me pot vas se atraire,
Per tal cove que no.m sia vendutz
L'onors ni.l bes que m'a en cor a faire!
Qu'enoyos es preyars, pos er perdutz!
Per me.us o dic, que mals m'en es vengutz,
Car trait m'a la bela de mal aire .

En Proensa tramet jois e salutz
E mais de bes c'om no lor sap retraire!
E fatz esfortz, miracles e vertutz,
Car eu lor man de so don non ai gaire,
Qu'eu non ai joi, mas tan can m'en adutz
Mos Bels Vezers e'n Fachura, mos drutz,
E'n Alvernhatz, lo senher de Belcaire.

Mos Bels Vezers, per vos fai Deus vertutz
Tals c'om no.us ve que no si' ereubutz
Dels bels plazers que sabetz dir e faire .

 goldin 134
lark92

70,15 Chantars no pot gaire valer

topsfiled 119

Chantars no pot gaire valer,
Si d'ins dal cor no mou lo chans!
Ni chans no pot dal cor mover,
Si no i es fin' amors coraus .
Per so es mos chantars cabaus
Qu'en joi d'amor ai et enten
La boch' e.ls olhs e.l cor e.l sen.

Ja Deus no.m don aquel poder
Que d'amor no.m prenda talans.
Si ja re no.n sabi' aver,
Mas chascun jorn m'en vengues maus,
Totz tems n'aurai bo cor sivaus!
E n'ai mout mais de jauzimen,
Car n'ai bo cor, e m'i aten .

Amor blasmen per no-saber,
Fola gens! mas leis no.n es dans,
C'amors no.n pot ges dechazer,
Si non es amors comunaus .
Aisso non es amors !aitaus
No.n a mas lo nom e.l parven,
Que re non ama si no pren

S'eu en volgues dire lo ver,
Eu sai be de cui mou l'enjans:
D'aquelas c'amon per aver
E son merchadandas venaus
Messongers en fos eu e faus
Vertat en dic vilanamen,
E peza me car eu no.n men

En agradar et en voler
Es l'amors de dos fis amans.
Nula res no i pot pro tener,
Si.lh voluntatz non es egaus.
E cel es be fols naturaus
Que, de so que vol, la repren
E.lh lauza so que no.lh es gen .

Mout ai be mes mo bon esper,
Cant cela.m mostra bels semblans
Qu'eu plus dezir e volh vezer,
Francha, doussa, fin' e leiaus,
En cui lo reis seria saus !
Bel' e conhd', ab cors covinen,
M'a faih ric ome de nien.

Re mais no.n am ni sai temer!
Ni ja res no.m seri' afans,
Sol midons vengues a plazer!
C'aicel jorns me sembla nadaus
C'ab sos bels olhs espiritaus
M'esgarda! mas so fai tan len
C'us sols dias me dura cen

Lo vers es fis e naturaus
E bos celui qui be l'enten !
E melher es, qui.l joi aten .
Bernartz de Ventadorn l'enten,
E.l di e.l fai, e.l joi n'aten		 Singing proves merely valueless
If the song moves not from the heart,
Nor from the heart can song progress,
If it lacks noble love, heart’s dream.
So of all songs mine reign supreme,
For with love’s joy I seek to bind
Mouth, and eyes, and heart, and mind.

 May God never grant me power
Not inspired by true love’s art!
If I never knew how to gain its flower,
Without every day enduring pain,
I’d be of good heart still, that’s plain,
And my joy is therefore more alive,
Since I’m of good heart, and for it I strive.

 Through ignorance, the fools decry
Love, but that does it little hurt,
For Love will in no way fail, say I,
If it’s a love that’s not commonplace.
And that’s not love, nor of its race,
But only has its form and name,
That loves nothing except for gain.

 If I am to speak only what’s true,
I know from where such errors start:
From those women who love men too
Only through greed: they are for hire.
Would I were false in this, a liar!
I speak of it, do I not, so harshly,
And yet that I lie not saddens me.

 In its agreement and its assent
Two noble lovers love’s apart,
For nothing can come of their intent,
If their desire is not mutual.
And he is in truth a natural
Who reprehends her for her longing,
Or praises to her what is not fitting.

 My good hope is rightly placed,
When she from whom I’d least wish to part,
Shows me her beauteous face,
Pure, gentle, noble and true,
A king’s salvation she’d prove too,
Lovely, graceful, of pleasing body;
I, with nothing, she renders wealthy.

 I love and fear naught more than her,
I would receive the bitterest dart,
If only it gave my lady pleasure;
For it seems like Christmas Day
If her sweet spiritual eyes should stray
Towards me: yet so infrequently,
That each

 Fine, natural verse, and good, I say,
To him who can clearly understand it,
If he hopes for joy, the better the fit.
Bernard de Ventadour understands it,
Speaks it; makes it, and wishes joy of it


70,16 Conortz, era sai eu be


Conortz, era sai eu be
Que ges de me no pensatz,
Pois salutz ni amistatz
Ni messatges no m'en ve.
Trop cuit que fatz lonc aten,
Et er be semblans oimai
Qu'eu chasse so c'autre pren,
Pois no m'en ven aventura.

Bels Conortz, can me sove
Com gen fui per vos onratz
E can era m'oblidatz,
Per un pauc no.n mor desse
Qu'eu eis m'o vauc enqueren
Qui.m met de foudat em plai ,
Can eu midons sobrepren
De la mia forfaitura .

Per ma colpa m'esdeve
Que ja no.n sia privatz,
Car vas leis no sui tornatz
Per foudat que m'en rete.
Tan n'ai estat lonjamen
Que de vergonha qu'eu n'ai,
Non aus aver l'ardimen
Que i an, s'ans no m'asegura.

Ilh m'encolpet de tal re
Don me degra venir gratz.
Fe qu'eu dei a l'Alvernhatz,
Tot o fi per bona fe.
E s'eu en amar mespren,
Tort a qui colpa m'en fai,
Car, qui en amor quer sen,
Cel non a sen ni mezura .

Tan er gen servitz per me
Sos fers cor, durs et iratz,
Tro del tot si' adoussatz
Ab bels dihz et ab merce!
Qu'eu ai be trobat legen
Que gota d'aiga que chai,
Fer en un loc tan soven,
Tro chava la peira dura.

Qui be remira ni ve
Olhs e gola, fron e faz,
Aissi son finas beutatz
Que mais ni menhs no i cove,
Cors lonc, dreih e covinen,
Gen afliban, conhd' e gai.
Om no.l pot lauzar tan gen
Com la saup formar Natura.

Chansoneta, ar t'en vai
A Mo Frances, l'avinen,
Cui pretz enans' e melhura

E digas li que be.m vai,
Car de Mo Conort aten
Enquera bon' aventura .






























And if I err when I love,
the man who blames me for this is wrong,
for the man who looks for good sense in love
has neither good sense nor a sense of what is fitting.


70, 17 En cossirer et en esmai



En cossirer et en esmai
Sui d'un' amor que.m lass' e.m te,
Que tan no vau ni sai ni lai
Qu'ilh ades no.m tenh' en so fre,
C'aras m'a dat cor e talen
Qu'eu enqueses, si podia,
Tal que, si.l reis l'enqueria,
Auria faih gran ardimen.

Ai las, chaitius e que.m farai
Ni cal cosselh penrai de me
Qu'ela no sap lo mal qu'eu trai
Ni eu no.lh aus clamar merce.
Fol nesci ben as pauc de sen,
Qu'ela nonca t'amaria
Per nom que per drudaria ,
C'ans no.t laisses levar al ven

E doncs, pois atressi.m morrai,
Dirai li l'afan que m'en ve
Vers es c'ades lo li dirai.
No farai, a la mia fe,
Si sabia c'a un tenen
En fos tot' Espanha mia!
Mais volh morir de feunia
Car anc me venc en pessamen.

Ja per me no sabra qu'eu m'ai
Ni autre no l'en dira re.
Amic no volh ad aquest plai,
Ans perda Deu qui pro m'en te!
Qu'eu no.n volh cozi ni paren,
Que mout m'es grans cortezia
C'amors per midons m'aucia !
Mais a leis non estara gen.

E doncs, ela, cal tort m'i fai,
Qu'ilh no sap per que s'esdeve
Deus devinar degra oimai
Qu'eu mor per s'amor et a que
Al meu nesci chaptenemen
Et a la gran vilania
Per que.lh lenga m'entrelia
Can eu denan leis me prezen .

Negus jois al meu no s'eschai,
Can ma domna.m garda ni.m ve,
Que.l seus bels douz semblans me vai
Al cor, que m'adous' e.m reve!
E si.m durava lonjamen,
Sobre sainhz li juraria
Qu'el mon mais nulhs jois no sia!
Mais al partir art et encen .

Pois messatger no.lh trametrai
Ni a me dire no.s cove,
Negu cosselh de me no sai!
Mais d'una re me conort be:
Ela sap letras et enten,
Et agrada.m qu'eu escria
Los motz, e s'a leis plazia,
Legis los al meu sauvamen .

E s'a leis autre dols no.n pren ,
Per Deu e per merce.lh sia
Que.l bel solatz que m'avia
No.m tolha ni.l seu parlar gen .

 In anguish and torment am I 
because of a love that grips and holds me 
so that I can go neither here nor there 
without her holding me in her harness. 
And now I have courage and desire to court, 
if I can, one who, 
if the King himself were to pursue her,  
he would show great audacity.

 Alas, unhappy one that I am! 
What shall I do? What counsel shall I take? 
For she does not know the sorrow 
that I bear, nor do I dare beg her for mercy. 
Fool, you have little understanding, 
since she will never love you, 
neither in name nor through intimacy. 
Let yourself be blown away by the wind. 

 And so, since I must die, 
shall I confess to her my sorrow? 
Truly, I should do it right away. 
I won't do it, by my faith, 
even if I knew that 
all Spain would be mine. 
I would rather die of shame than 
to have entertained such a thought.

 25........................
...................................
.........................................
.........................................................
for it were a deed of great courtesy,
if love for my lady slew me
...............

 What  wrong does my lady, 
if she knows not what befalls me?
God ,she should have known 
that I die for love of her.
From my uncouth behaviour 
and my churlish tongue's silence.

 ...................
.....................
for her fair, sweet look goes to my heart
and soothes and heals me.
...................................
.................................
.................................
..................................

 Since I shall not send her a messenger, 
and it is not fitting for me to speak myself, 
I don't know how to advise myself. 
But one thing consoles me: she knows the alphabet, and how to read, 
and I enjoy writing words, and if she pleases, 
may she read them 
so that I may be saved



70, 18 Estat ai com om esperdutz


 Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 3 track 11 (Sandra Hurtado Ros or Isabelle Bonnadier?) *****

Estat ai com om esperdutz
Per amor un lonc estatge,
Mas era.m sui reconogutz
Qu'eu avia faih folatge!
C'a totz era de salvatge ,
Car m'era de chan recrezutz !
Et on eu plus estera mutz,
Mais feira de mon damnatge.

A tal domna m'era rendutz
C'anc no.m amet de coratge,
E sui m'en tart aperceubutz,
Que trop ai faih lonc badatge.
Oi mais segrai son uzatge :
De cui que.m volha, serai drutz ,
E trametrai per tot salutz
Et aurai mais cor volatge.

Truans volh esser per s'amor,
E cove c'ab leis aprenda!
Pero no vei domneyador
Que menhs de me s'i entenda.
Mas bel m'es c'ab leis contenda,
C'autra n'am, plus bel' e melhor,
Que.m val e m'ayud' e.m socor
E.m fai de s'amor esmenda.

Aquesta m'a faih tan d'onor,
Que platz li c'a merce.m prenda!
E prec la del seu amador
Que.l be que.m fara, no.m venda
Ni.m fassa far lonj' atenda ,
Que lonc termini.m fai paor,
Car no vei malvatz donador
C'ab lonc respeih no.s defenda .

Ma domna fo al comensar
Franch'e de bela companha!
E per so la dei mais lauzar
Que si.m fos fer' et estranha !
Dreihz es que domna s'afranha
Vas celui qui a cor d'amar.
Qui trop fai son amic preyar,
Dreihz es c'amics li sofranha.

Domna, pensem del enjanar
Lauzengers, cui Deus contranha,
Que tan com om lor pot emblar
De joi, aitan s'en gazanha.
E que ja us no s'en planha
Loncs tems pot nostr' amors durar,
Sol can locs er, volham parlar,
E can locs non er, remanha.

Deu lau encara sai chantar,
Mal grat n'aya na Dous-Esgar
E cil a cui s'acompanha .

Fis-Jois, ges no.us posc oblidar,
Ans vos am e.us volh e.us tenh char,
Car m'etz de bela companha .


70,19 ma dosne fu al commencar


ma dosne


70,23 La dousa votz ai auzida


 Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 4; track 1 (Isabelle Bonnadier) ***

La dousa votz ai auzida
Del rosinholet sauvatge,
Et es m'ins el cor salhida
Si que tot lo cosirer
E.ls mals traihz qu'amors me dona,
M'adousa e m'asazona.
Et auria.m be mester
L'autrui jois al meu damnatge.

Ben es totz om d'avol vida
C'ab joi non a son estatge
E qui vas amor no guida
So cor e so dezirer !
Car tot can es s'abandona
Vas joi e refrim' e sona :
Prat e deves e verger,
Landas e pla e boschatge.

Eu, las cui Amors oblida,
Que sui fors del dreih viatge,
Agra de joi ma partida,
Mas ira.m fai destorber!
E no sai on me repona
Pus mo joi me desazona!
E no.m tenhatz per leuger
S'eu dic alcu vilanatge .

Una fausa deschauzida
Trairitz de mal linhatge
M'a trait et es traida,
E colh lo ram ab que.s fer !
E can autre l'arazona,
D'eus lo seu tort m'ochaizona !
Et an ne mais li derrer
Qu'eu, qui n'ai faih lonc badatge.

Mout l'avia gen servida
Tro ac vas mi cor volatge !
E pus ilh no m'es cobida,
Mout sui fols, si mais la ser.
Servirs c'om no gazardona,
Et esperansa bretona
Fai de senhor escuder
Per costum e per uzatge .

Pois tan es vas me falhida,
Aisi lais so senhoratge,
E no volh que.m si'aizida
Ni ja mais parlar no.n quer.
Mas pero qui m'en razona,
La paraula m'en es bona,
E m'en esjau volonter
E.m n'alegre mo coratge .

Deus li do mal' escharida
Qui porta mauvais mesatge,
Qu'eu agra amor jauzida,
Si no foso lauzenger .
Fols es qui ab sidons tensona,
Qu'e.lh perdo s'ela.m perdona,
E tuih cilh son mesonger
Que.m n'an faih dire folatge

Lo vers mi porta, Corona,
Lai a midons a Narbona,
Que tuih sei faih son enter,
C'om no.n pot dire folatge .		 The sweetest voice I have heard,
Of the woodland nightingale,
And into my heart has leapt its word
So that all the weight of care
And the evil blows love deals me,
Are soothed and softened sweetly.
And great good does it do me there,
Another’s joy in my travail.

 Of base life indeed is the man
Who with joy finds never a place,
Where love is no part of the plan
That drives his heart and his desire;
For all that exists with joy abounds,
Rings out, and with its song resounds:
Park, orchard, meadow, all the choir
Of heath, plain and woodland chase.

 Alas for me, whom love forgets,
Who stray from the proper track;
A share of joy would be mine yet,
But sorrow it is that troubles me;
And I can find no place to rest,
For it turns all joy to bitterness.
And never think that I feel lightly,
If some courtesy I seem to lack.

 A false and a wicked woman,
Of base birth, a foul traitress,
Betrayed herself and this man,
She cut the very stick that beat her.
Yet whenever she is arraigned
It is the man who gets the blame.
And the latecomer gets more from her,
Than I who have waited longest.

 I had served her well and nobly,
Till she showed me a fickle heart;
And since she offers naught to me,
I’m a fool if I serve her more.
Service without recompense –
A Breton’s hope has equal sense –
Makes a slave of a noble lord,
By custom and usage, set apart.

 God grant him a foul fate
Who repeats men’s idle chatter!
For love’s joy were my estate
Were it not for the tellers of tales.
A fool treats his mistress cruelly,
I’ll pardon her if she’ll pardon me,
Liars they are, whom naught avails,
If they made me speak badly of her.








Corona, carry these verses for me
To Narbonne, there, to my lady;
Of perfection her life never fails,
And no man can speak badly of her.

70,24 Lancan folhon bosc e jarric


Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 4; track 2 (Maurice Moncozet) ***


Lancan folhon bosc e jarric,
E.lh flors pareis e.lh verdura
Pels vergers e pels pratz,
E.lh auzel, c'an estat enic,
Son gai desotz los folhatz,
Autresi.m chant e m'esbaudei
E reflorisc e reverdei
E folh segon ma natura.

Ges d'un' amor no.m tolh ni.m gic,
Don sui en bon' aventura
Segon mon esper entratz,
Car sui tengutz per fin amic
Lai on es ma volontatz !
Que re mais sotz cel no.n envei
Ni ves autra part no soplei
Ni d'autra no sui en cura.

Ben a mauvais cor e mendic
Qui ama e no.s melhura !
Qu'eu sui d'aitan melhuratz
C'ome de me no vei plus ric,
Car sai c'am e sui amatz
Per la gensor qued anc Deus fei
Ni que sia el mon, so crei,
Tan can te terra ni dura .

Anc no fetz semblan vair ni pic
La bela ni forfachura,
Ni fui per leis galiatz,
Ni no.m crei c'om tan la chastic,
Tan es fina s'amistatz,
Qu'ela ja.s biais ni.s vairei
Ni per autre guerpisca mei,
Segon que mos cors s'augura.

Midons prec, no.m lais per chastic
Ni per gelos folatura,
Que no.m sent' entre sos bratz!
Car eu sui seus plus qu'eu no dic,
E serai tostems, si.lh platz.
Que per leis m'es bel tot can vei,
E port el cor, on que m'estei,
Sa beutat e sa fachura.

Anc no vitz ome tan antic
Si a bon'amor ni pura
E per sidons si' amatz,
No sia gais, neis sers e bric,
Si's de joi pres e liatz!
Que de fol cove que folei
E de savi que chabalei,

Que pretz li.n creis e.lh melhura.




in just the same way do I sing and rejoice
and renew my foliage
in accordance with my nature

70,25 Lancan vei la fol


Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 4; track 3 (Isabelle Bonnadier) **

Lancan vei la folha
Jos dels albres chazer,
Cui que pes ni dolha,
A me deu bo saber.
No crezatz qu'eu volha
Flor ni folha vezer,
Car vas me s'orgolha
So qu'eu plus volh aver.
Cor ai que m'en tolha,
Mas no.n ai ges poder,
C'ades cuit m'acolha,
On plus m'en dezesper.

Estranha novela
Podetz de me auzir,
Que, can vei la bela
Que.m soli' acolhir,
Era no m'apela
Ni.m fai vas se venir.
Lo cor sotz l'aissela
M'en vol de dol partir.
Deus, que.l mon chapdela,
Si.lh platz, m'en lais jauzir,
Que s'aissi.m revela,
No.i a mas del morir .

Non ai mais fiansa
En agur ni en sort,
Que bon' esperansa
M'a confondut e mort,
Que tan lonh me lansa
La bela cui am fort,
Can li quer s'amansa,
Com s'eu l'agues gran tort.
Tan n'ai de pezansa
Que totz m'en desconort!
Mas no.n fatz semblansa,
C'ades chant e deport.

Als non sai que dire
Mas: mout fatz gran folor
Car am ni dezire
Del mon la belazor.
Be deuri' aucire
Qui anc fetz mirador
Can be m'o cossire,
No.n ai guerrer peyor.
Ja.l jorn qu'ela.s mire
Ni pens de sa valor,
No serai jauzire
De leis ni de s'amor.

Ja per drudaria
No m'am, que no.s cove!
Pero si.lh plazia
Que.m fezes cal que be,
Eu li juraria
Per leis e per ma fe,
Que.l bes que.m faria,
No fos saubutz per me.
En son plazer sia,
Qu'eu sui en sa merce .
Si.lh platz, que m'aucia,
Qu'eu no m'en clam de re

Ben es dreihz qu'eu planha,
S'eu pert per mon orgolh
La bona companha
E.l solatz c'aver solh.
Petit me gazanha
Lo fols arditz qu'eu colh,
Car vas me s'estranha
So qu'eu plus am e volh.
Orgolhs, Deus vos franha,
C'ara.n ploron mei olh.
Dreihz es que.m sofranha
Totz jois, qu'eu eis lo.m tolh .

Encontra.l damnatge
E la pena qu'eu trai,
Ai mo bon uzatge:
C'ades consir de lai.
Orgolh e folatge
E vilania fai
Qui.n mou mo coratge
Ni d'autra.m met en plai,
Car melhor messatge
En tot lo mon no.n ai,
E man lo.lh ostatge
Entro qu'eu torn de sai .

Domna, mo coratge,
.l melhor amic qu'eu ai,
Vos man en ostatge
Entro qu'eu torn de sai.
goldin 148

70,26 Lancan vei per mei la landa

topsfile 118


Lancan vei per mei la landa
Dels arbres chazer la folha,
Ans que.lh frejura s'espanda
Ni.l gens termini s'esconda,
M'es bel que si' auzitz mos chans,
Qu'estat n'aurai mais de dos ans,

E cove que.n fass' esmenda.
Mout m'es greu que ja reblanda
Celeis que vas me s'orgolha,
Car si mos cors re.lh demanda,
No.lh platz que mot m'i responda.
Be m'auci mos nescis talans,
Car sec d'amor los bels semblans

E no ve c'amors lh'atenda .
Tan sap d'engenh e de ganda
C'ades cuit c'amar me volha.
Be doussamen me truanda ,
C'ab bel semblan me confonda
Domna, so no.us es nuls enans,
Que be cre qu'es vostres lo dans,
Cossi que vostr'om mal prenda.

Deus, que tot lo mon garanda,
Li met' en cor que m'acolha,
C'a me no te pro vianda
Ni negus bes no.m aonda.
Tan sui vas la bela doptans,
Per qu'e.m ren a leis merceyans:
Si.lh platz, que.m don o que.m venda

Mal o fara, si no.m manda
Venir lai on se despolha,
Qu'eu sia per sa comanda
Pres del leih, josta l'esponda ,
E.lh traya.ls sotlars be chaussans,
A genolhs et umilians,
Si.lh platz que sos pes me tenda .

Faihz es lo vers tot a randa,
Si que motz no.i deschapdolha,
Outra la terra normanda,
Part la fera mar prionda!
E si.m sui de midons lonhans,
Vas se.m tira com azimans
La bela cui Deus defenda.

Si.l reis engles e.l ducs normans
O vol, eu la veirai abans
Que l'iverns nos sobreprenda.

Pel rei sui engles e normans
E si no fos Mos Azimans,
Restera tro part calenda .		 When I see the leaves of the trees
fall off in the middle of the fields, before the cold spreads
and the good season disappears,
it seems good to me that my song be heard,
for I have not done so in over two years,
and I should atone for that.

It is painful for me to serve still the one
who is so haughty towards me,
for if my heart demands something of her
she doesn't wish to speak even a word.
My foolish desire kills me,
because it pursues the fair appearance of love,
and does not see that love awaits.









May God, who guards the universe,
place in her heart a welcome for me,
for no food is of benefit to me,
and no bounty consoles me.
I am so uncertain concerning the fair one
that I deliver myself, pleading for mercy, to her.
So if she wishes,
she can give me away, or sell me.

She would do a wrong if she did not invite me
to come to the place where she undresses,
so that I may be at her command,
next to her, at the edge of the bed,
and I would take off her graceful slippers,
on my knees and humble,
if it pleased her to extend to me her feet.

This poem is perfectly made,
without a single badly-made word,
beyond the land of Normandy,
beyond the wild and deep sea.
And although I am far from my lady,
I am drawn to her like a magnet,
she whom God may protect.

If the English king and the Norman duke wish it,
I shall see her before
the winter takes us by surprise.


By grace of the king I am English, and Norman,
and if it were not for My Magnet,
I would remain here until after Christmas.

70,30 Lo tems vai e.ven e vire

topsfield 134

Lo tems vai e ven e vire
Per jorns, per mes e per ans,
Et eu, las no.n sai que dire,
C'ades es us mos talans.
Ades es us e no.s muda,
C'una.n volh e.n ai volguda,
Don anc non aic jauzimen.

Pois ela no.n pert lo rire,
E me.n ven e dols e dans,
C'a tal joc m'a faih assire
Don ai lo peyor dos tans,
--C'aitals amors es perduda
Qu'es d'una part mantenguda--
Tro que fai acordamen.

Be deuri' esser blasmaire
de me mezeis a razo,
c'anc no nasquet cel de maire
que tan servis en perdo;
e s'ela no m'en chastia,
ades doblara.lh folia,
que: "fols no tem, tro que pren".

Ja mais no serai chantaire
ni de l'escola n'Eblo,
que mos chantars no val gaire
ni mas voutas ni mei so;
ni res qu'eu fassa ni dia,
no conosc que pros me sia,
ni no.i vei melhuramen.

Si tot fatz de joi parvensa,
Mout ai dins lo cor irat.
Qui vid anc mais penedensa
Faire denan lo pechat
On plus la prec, plus m'es dura!
Mas si'n breu tems no.s melhura,
Vengut er al partimen.

Pero ben es qu'ela.m vensa
A tota sa volontat,
Que, s'el' a tort o bistensa,
Ades n'aura pietat!
Que so mostra l'escriptura :
Causa de bon'aventura
Val us sols jorns mais de cen.

Ja no.m partrai a ma vida,
Tan com sia saus ni sas,
Que pois l'arma n'es issida,
Balaya lonc tems lo gras .
E si tot no s'es cochada ,
Ja per me no.n er blasmada,
Sol d'eus adenan s'emen.

Ai, bon' amors encobida,
Cors be faihz, delgatz e plas
Ai, frescha charn colorida,
Cui Deus formet ab sas mas
Totz tems vos ai dezirada,
Que res autra no m'agrada.
Autr' amor no volh nien

Dousa res ben ensenhada,
Cel que.us a tan gen formada,

Me.n do cel joi qu'eu n'aten		 Time comes, and goes, and runs away,
In days, and months, and so in years;
And I, alas, have naught to say,
For my longing ever one appears.
It’s ever one, and never falters,
For I love one, it never alters,
Of whom I’ve had no happiness.

 Since she mocks me every way,
Grief and harm have come to me;
She has sat me down to play
At a game where I lose doubly –
For that love has always died
That’s only upheld on one side –
Unless she make peace, I confess.

 I should indeed lay the blame
On myself, with all due reason,
For never was born one so lame,
Who serves idly, in every season.
And if she’ll not chase folly away
My folly will double, for they say:
A fool fears not till he’s in distress.

 I will be a singer no more,
Nor be of Lord Eble’s school,
For what is all this singing for?
There’s no worth in melody’s rule;
Whatever I do, whatever I say
I can’t make things go my way,
Nor do I dream of any progress.

 Though I make a show of joy,
My heart within is full of woe.
Who ever did penance employ
Before he sinned? I tell you though,
The more I beg, the harsher she,
If she’s not gentler soon with me,
There’ll be a parting I would guess.

 Yet it’s good that she subjects me
To her whole will utterly,
For if she does wrong, and slowly,
The sooner she’ll take pity;
For, or so the scriptures say,
Through good luck, a single day
May a whole century redress.

 Lifelong, I’ll never leave her,
As long as I’m hale and whole;
The flesh may go hang after
It has parted from the soul;
And though she is never hasty,
She’ll get no blame from me,
If she makes amends, I’ll bless.

 Ah, sweet love, all my desire,
Fine, slim, neat your body stands,
Fresh complexion, subtle fire,
Whom God shaped in his hands!
I’ll long for you forever,
No other gives me pleasure.
No other love do I profess.

 Sweet and most gracious treasure,
May He who formed you in measure

 Grant joy desired, now, in excess!

70,31 Non es meravelha s'eu chan


Troubadours Art Ensemble;La Troba Vol 1; cd 4; track 4 (Gerard Zuchetto) *****

Non es meravelha s'eu chan
Melhs de nul autre chantador,
Que plus me tra.l cors vas amor
E melhs sui faihz a so coman.
Cor e cors e saber e sen
E fors' e poder i ai mes.
Si.m tira vas amor lo fres
Que vas autra part no.m aten.

Ben es mortz qui d'amor no sen
Al cor cal que dousa sabor!
E que val viure ses amor
Mas per enoi far a la gen
Ja Domnedeus no.m azir tan
Qu'eu ja pois viva jorn ni mes.
Pois que d'enoi serai mespres
Ni d'amor non aurai talan .

Per bona fe e ses enjan
Am la plus bel' e la melhor.
Del cor sospir e dels olhs plor,
Car tan l'am eu, per que i ai dan.
Eu que.n posc mais, s'Amors me pren,
E las charcers en que m'a mes,
No pot claus obrir mas merces,
E de merce no.i trop nien

Aquest' amors me fer tan gen
Al cor d'una dousa sabor:
Cen vetz mor lo jorn de dolor
E reviu de joi autras cen.
Ben es mos mals de bel semblan,
Que mais val mos mals qu'autre bes!
E pois mos mals aitan bos m'es,
Bos er lo bes apres l'afan .

Ai Deus car se fosson trian
D'entrels faus li fin amador,
E.lh lauzenger e.lh trichador
Portesson corns el fron denan
Tot l'aur del mon e tot l'argen
I volgr'aver dat, s'eu l'agues,
Sol que ma domna conogues
Aissi com eu l'am finamen.

Cant eu la vei, be m'es parven
Als olhs, al vis, a la color,
Car aissi tremble de paor
Com fa la folha contra.l ven.
Non ai de sen per un efan,
Aissi sui d'amor entrepres!
E d'ome qu'es aissi conques,
Pot domn' aver almorna gran.

Bona domna, re no.us deman
Mas que.m prendatz per servidor,
Qu'e.us servirai com bo senhor,
Cossi que del gazardo m'an.
Ve.us m'al vostre comandamen,
Francs cors umils, gais e cortes
Ors ni leos non etz vos ges ,
Que.m aucizatz, s'a vos me ren.

A Mo Cortes, lai on ilh es,
Tramet lo vers, e ja no.lh pes
Car n'ai estat tan lonjamen .		 It's no wonder that I sing better
than any other singer,
for I am the one whose heart is most strongly drawn towards love,
and the most obedient to Love's law.
Heart and body, intellect and instinct,
strength and power, all these have I engaged.
And the bridle steers me so strongly to love that I
pay no attention to anything else.







When see her, it's visible in my eyes,
my face, my color,
because I tremble with fear
like a leaf in the wind.
I have no more sense than a babe,
so dominated am I by love;
and for a man so vanquished,
a lady should have great sollicitude.








Oh, God! If it were only possible
to separate out the true lovers and the false;
and if the flatterers and cheats only wore horns
in the middle of their foreheads.
All the gold in the world, all the silver,
if I had them, I would give them away,
so that my lady could see how truly I love her.









Good Lady, I ask you nothing else but
that you take me as your servant,
so that I could serve you as a good master,
whatever my reward may be.
You see me here at your orders,
you who are honest and humble,
cheerful and courtly.

 You are neither a lion nor a bear,
who would kill me if I gave myself to you.

 To my Courtly One, where she is, 
I send this verse, and may it not weigh that I am so far distant.

goldin p 127

70,33 Pel doutz chan que.l rossinhols fai

topsfiled 125

Pel doutz chan que.l rossinhols fai,
La noih can me sui adormitz,
Revelh de joi totz esbaitz,
D'amor pensius e cossirans!
C'aisso es mos melher mesters,
Que tostems ai joi volunters,
Et ab joi comensa mos chans .

Qui sabia lo joi qu'eu ai,
Que jois fos vezutz ni auzitz,
Totz autre jois fora petitz
Vas qu'eu tenc, que.l meus jois es grans.
Tals se fai conhdes e parlers,
Que.n cuid' esser rics e sobrers
De fin' amor, qu'eu n'ai dos tans

Can eu remire so cors gai,
Com es be faihz a totz chauzitz ,
Sa cortezi' e sos bels ditz,
Ja mos lauzars no m'er avans!
C'obs m'i auri' us ans enters,
Si.n voli' esser vertaders,
Tan es cortez' e ben estans.

Cil que cuidon qu'eu sia sai,
No sabon ges com l'esperitz
Es de leis privatz et aizitz,
Si tot lo cors s'en es lonhans .
Sapchatz, lo melher messatgers
C'ai de leis, es mos cossirers,
Que.m recorda sos bels semblans.

Domna, vostre sui e serai,
Del vostre servizi garnitz.
Vostr' om sui juratz e plevitz ,
E vostre m'era des abans.
E vos etz lo meus jois primers,
E si seretz vos lo derrers,
Tan com la vida m'er durans .

No sai coras mais vos veirai!
Mas vau m'en iratz e maritz.
Per vos me sui del rei partitz,
E prec vos que no.m sia dans,
Qu'e.us serai en cort prezenters
Entre domnas e chavalers,
Francs e doutz et umilians .

Huguet, mos cortes messatgers
Chantatz ma chanso volonters
A la reina dels Normans.		 To the sweet song of the nightingale,
At night when I am half-asleep,
I wake possessed by joy complete,
Contemplating love and thinking;
For this is my greatest need, to be
Forever filled with joy and sweetly,
And in joy begin my singing.

 Who seeks to know the joy I feel,
If such joy were heard and seen,
All other joy but slight would seem
Compared with mine: vast in its being.
Others preen and chatter wildly,
Claim to be blessed, rich and nobly,
With ‘true love’: I’ve twice the thing!

 When I admire her body hale
Well-formed, in all respects I mean,
Her courtesy and her sweet speech,
For all my praise I yet gain nothing;
Though I took a year completely
I could not paint her truthfully
So courtly is she, of sweet forming.

 You who think that I can’t fail,
Not realising her spirit keen
Is open and is friendly, even
Yet her body is far from being,
Know, the best messenger I see
From her is my own reverie,
That recalls her fairest seeming.

 Lady, I’m yours, today, every day,
In your service my self I’ll keep,
Sworn, and pledged to you complete,
As I have been always in everything.
And as you are first of joys to me,
So the last joy too you will be,
As long as I’m still living.

 I know not when I’ll see you again;
But I am grieved and sad to leave.
For you I spurned (don’t now harm me,
I beg of you) the court and king,
Now I will serve you there entirely,
Among the knights, among the ladies,
All sweet, true, and humble beings.

 Huguet, my messenger, go, kindly
Sing my song and sing it freely,
To the Norman Queen go warbling.

1 true love=fin amor

70,35 Per melhs cobrir 

topsfield 117

Per melhs cobrir lo mal pes e.l cossire
Chan e deport et ai joi e solatz!
E fatz esfortz car sai chantar ni rire,
Car eu me mor e nul semblan no.n fatz!
E per Amor sui si apoderatz,
Tot m'a vencut a forsa e a batalha .

Anc Deus no fetz trebalha ni martire,
Ses mal d'amor, qu'eu no sofris en patz!
Mas d'aquel sui, si be.m peza, sofrire,
C'Amors mi fai amar lai on li platz!
E dic vos be que s'eu no sui amatz,
Ges no reman en la mia nualha .

Midons sui om et amics e servire,
E no.lh en quer mais autras amistatz
Mas c'a celat los seus bels olhs me vire,
Que gran be.m fan ades can sui iratz!
E ren lor en laus e merces e gratz,
Qu'el mon non ai amic que tan me valha.

Molt me sap bo lo jorn qu'eu la remire:
La boch' e.ls olhs e.l fron e.ls mas e.ls bratz
E l'autre cors, que res no.n es a dire
Que no sia belamen faissonatz.
Gensor de leis no poc faire Beltatz,
Per qu'eu m'en ai gran pen' e gran trebalha.

A mo talen volh mal, tan la dezire,
E pretz m'en mais, car eu fui tan auzatz
Qu'en tan aut loc auzei m'amor assire,
Per qu'eu m'en sui conhdes et ensenhatz.
E can la vei, sui tan fort envezatz:
Veyaire m'es que.l cors al cel me salha .

Dins en mo cor me corrotz e.m azire,
Car eu sec tan las mias volontatz.
Mas negus om no deu aital re dire,
C'om no sap ges com s'es aventuratz.
Que farai doncs dels bels semblans privatz
Falhirai lor mais volh que.l mons me falha

Ab lauzengers non ai ren a devire,
Car anc per lor no fo rics jois celatz.
E dic vos tan que per mon escondire
Et ab mentir lor ai chamjatz los datz .
Ben es totz jois a perdre destinatz
Quez es perdutz per la lor devinalha.

Corona, man salutz et amistatz,
E prec midons que m'ayut e me valha.

E que.m volha, sia sens o foudatz,

No.m pot esser ni afans ni trebalha.

70,36 Pos prejatz me senhor


Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 4; track 5 (Maurice Moncozet) *

Pos prejatz 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 belazor
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 garrai ja ab te
Ara cuit qu'e.n 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'amar 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
Mas jonchas, ab col cle,
Vos m'autrei e.m coman.
Qu'e.us pliu per bona fe
C'anc re non amei tan .
E si locs s'esdeve,
Vos me fatz bel semblan,
Que molt n'ai gran talan,

Mon Escuder e me
Don Deus cor e talan
C'amdui n'anem truan.

Et el en men ab se
So don a plus talan,
Et eu Mon Aziman		 Since you request me to sing, my Lords,
I shall sing.
And when I think of singing, I
weep just at the moment when I begin.
You will hardly ever here a singer
who sings well, if he is unhappy.
Am I thus unhappy in love?
No, rather better than ever.
Then why I am I in disarray?

 I know that God has
done me a great honor,
since I love the most beautiful of women
and she me, as far as I know.
But I am elsewhere,
and I do not know how she is,
which kills me with sorrow,
for I do not often have
the opportunity to go there.









Now, Love, what shall I do?
Shall I ever be cured of you?
Right now I think I will die of
the desire that comes upon me,
if the fair one invites me to be near her,
where she sleeps,
so that I can caress and kiss
and hold next to mine
her body, white, round, and smooth.









Sweet lady, have pity
on your faithful lover!
Hands joined, head bowed,
I commend myself to your mercy.
For I swear to you in faith
that I have never loved
anyone as much as you.
And if the right moment occurs, 
show me your best behavior, 
for I really desire it so.


70,39 Can l'erba fresch' e.lh folha par


Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 4; track 6 (Gerard Zuchetto) ***

Can l'erba fresch' e.lh folha par
E la flors boton' el verjan ,
E.l rossinhols autet e clar
Leva sa votz e mou so chan,
Joi ai de lui, e joi ai de la flor
E joi de me e de midons major!
Daus totas partz sui de joi claus e sens,
Mas sel es jois que totz autres jois vens.

Ai las com mor de cossirar
Que manhtas vetz en cossir tan :
Lairo m'en poirian portar,
Que re no sabria que.s fan .
Per Deu, Amors be.m trobas vensedor:
Ab paucs d'amics e ses autre senhor.
Car una vetz tan midons no destrens
Abans qu'eu fos del dezirer estens

Meravilh me com posc durar
Que no.lh demostre mo talan.
Can eu vei midons ni l'esgar,
Li seu bel olh tan be l'estan:
Per pauc me tenh car eu vas leis no cor.
Si feira eu, si no fos per paor,
C'anc no vi cors melhs talhatz ni depens
Ad ops d'amar sia tan greus ni lens .

Tan am midons e la tenh car,
E tan la dopt' e la reblan
C'anc de me no.lh auzei parlar,
Ni re no.lh quer ni re no.lh man.
Pero elh sap mo mal e ma dolor,
E can li plai, mi fai ben et onor,
E can li plai, eu m'en sofert ab mens,
Per so c'a leis no.n avenha blastens.

S'eu saubes la gen enchantar,
Mei enemic foran efan,
Que ja us no saubra triar
Ni dir re que.ns tornes a dan.
Adoncs sai eu que vira la gensor
E sos bels olhs e sa frescha color,
E baizera.lh la bocha en totz sens,
Si que d'un mes i paregra lo sens.

Be la volgra sola trobar,
Que dormis, o.n fezes semblan,
Per qu'e.lh embles un doutz baizar,
Pus no valh tan qu'eu lo.lh deman.
Per Deu, domna, pauc esplecham d'amor!
Vai s'en lo tems, e perdem lo melhor
Parlar degram ab cubertz entresens,
E, pus no.ns val arditz,valgues nos gens

Be deuri'om domna blasmar,
Can trop vai son amic tarzan,
Que lonja paraula d'amar
Es grans enois e par d'enjan,
C'amar pot om e far semblan alhor,
E gen mentir lai on non a autor.
Bona domna, ab sol c'amar mi dens,
Ja per mentir eu no serai atens .

Messatger, vai, e no m'en prezes mens ,
S'eu del anar vas midons sui temens .		 When fresh leaves and shoots appear,
And the blossom gleams on the bough,
And the nightingale high and clear
Raises his voice, and sings aloud,
I joy in him, and enjoy the flowers,
And joy in my lady and I, for hours;
By joy on all sides I’m caught and bound,
But this is joy, and all other joys drowned.

Alas, how I die of musing deeply!
Many a time I’m so deep in thought,
Ruffians could abduct me, neatly,
And of the business I’d know naught.
By God, Love, you find me an easy matter,
With few friends, and no other master.
Why did you not constrain my lady
Before desire took me completely?

I marvel now how I can bear
Not to reveal to her my longing.
For when I behold my lady there,
Her lovely eyes are so charming
I can scarce stop myself running to her.
And so I would, were it not for fear,
For never has one so shaped and made
For love such diffidence displayed.

 I love my lady and hold her dear,
And dread her, and respect her so,
I never dare speak of myself for fear,
Nor seek anything, nor ask aught, no;
Yet she knows of my pain and dolour,
And, when it pleases her, does me honour,
And, when it pleases her, I do with less,
So no reproach worsens my distress.

If I could work the enchanter’s spell,
I’d make children of all my foes,
So none could ever spy or tell,
Nor do aught that might harm us both.
Then I’d know I’d see my noble one,
Her sweet eyes, fresh complexion,
And kiss her mouth in such a way
It would show for a month and a day.

It would be sweet to find her alone,
While she slept, or pretended to,
Then a sweet kiss I’d make my own,
Since I’m not worthy to ask for two.
By God, lady, little of love we’ve won!
Time goes by, and the best is done.
We need secret signs, you and I:
Boldness fails, so let cunning try!

 A man should blame his lady indeed,
When she deters him from loving,
For endless talk about love may breed
Boredom, and set deception weaving.
For one can love and lie elsewhere,
And lie all the more smoothly where
There’s no proof. Good lady deign
To love me, and I’ll not lie or feign.

Go, messenger, no less esteem me
If I’m afraid to go see my lady.

70,40 Can lo boschatges

topsfiled 131

Can lo boschatges es floritz
E vei lo tems renovelar
E chascus auzels quer sa par
E.l rossinhols fai chans e critz,
D'un gran joi me creis tals oblitz
Que ves re mais no.m posc virar.
Noih e jorn me fai sospirar,
Si.m lassa del cor la razitz .

Per midons m'esjau no-jauzitz ,
Don m'es l'afans greus a portar,
Qu'e.m perdrai per leis gazanhar,
Et er li crims mout deschauzitz.
Las que farai com sui traitz,
Si s'amor no.m vol autreyar
Qu'eu no posc viure ses amar,
Que d'amor sui engenoitz.

Ar sui de leis trop eissernitz
Lenga, per que potz tan parlar
Que de menhs me sol acuzar
Si que.m sui per las dens feritz.
Que.m n'es si fer s'eu sui delitz
Ja no trobara li m'ampar !
Mas ab doutz sentir d'un baizar
For'eu tost d'est mal resperitz

En greu pantais sui feblezitz
Per leis cui Beutatz volc formar,
Que com Natura poc triar,
Del melhs es sos cors establitz:
Los flancs grailes et escafitz,
Sa fatz frescha com roza par,
Don me pot leu mort revivar.
Dirai com no sui tan arditz .

De tal dousor sui replenitz,
Can de prop la posc remirar,
C'a totz jorns vei lo meu sobrar,
Ta fort sui de s'amor techitz.
E.l freis es tals, qu'e.n sui marritz,
Can la vei de me deslonhar,
Que.l focs que m'en sol eschaufar,
Fug, e remanh escoloritz .

Lo bes e.l mals sia.lh grazitz,
Pos de me denha sol preyar.
Ara folei de trop gabar
Et es dreihs qu'en fos desmentitz
Domna, no.us pes si.lh lenga ditz
So c'anc mos cors no poc pessar.
Tatz, bocha nems potz lengueyar.
Et es t'en grans mals aramitz.

Autz es lo pretz qu'es cossentitz,
Car sol me denhet saludar.
Moutas merces Deus la.n ampar
Del plazer me sui engrevitz!
Totz l'autre bes m'es si frezitz
Que no.m valgra.n merce clamar.
Clama.l cors que no pot cessar!
Et apres m'es parlars falhitz.

Domna, s'eu fos de vos auzitz
Si charamen com volh mostrar,
Al prim de nostr' enamorar
Feiram chambis dels esperitz
Azautz sens m'i fora cobitz,
C'adonc saubr' eu lo vostr'afar
E vos lo meu, tot par a par,
E foram de dos cors unitz

Ai can brus sui, mal escharnitz
Qu'eu no posc la pensa durar,
De tal dolor me fai pasmar ,
Car tan s'amistat m'esconditz
Ab bel semblan sui eu traitz.
Que.m val res no.m pot chastiar
Mortz venh' a sel qui.m vol blasmar
Qu'eu no l'am mortz e sebelitz

Car forsatz m'en part e marritz,
Leu m'auci, mas greu fui noiritz ,
Tal ira.m sen al cor trenchar,
Car me mor e volh trespassar,

Mas ses leis no serai gueritz

70,41 Can par la flors josta.l vert folh


Troubadours Art Ensemble;La Troba Vol 1; cd 4; track 7 (Sandra Hurtado Ros) *****

Can par la flors josta.l vert folh
E vei lo tems clar e sere
E.l doutz chans dels auzels pel brolh
M'adousa lo cor e.m reve,
Pos l'auzel chanton a lor for,
Eu, c'ai mais de joi en mo cor,
Dei be chantar, pois tuih li mei jornal
Son joi e chan, qu'eu no pes de ren al.

Cela del mon qued eu plus volh,
E mais l'am de cor e de fe,
Au de joi mos dihz e.ls acolh
E mos precs escout' e rete.
E s'om ja per ben amar mor,
Eu en morrai, qu'ins en mo cor
Li port amor tan fin' e natural
Que tuih son faus vas me li plus leyal.

Be sai la noih, can me despolh,
El leih qu'eu no dormirai re .
Lo dormir pert, car eu lo.m tolh
Per vos, domna, don me sove!
Que lai on om a so tezor,
Vol om ades tener so cor .
S'eu no vos vei, domna, don plus me cal,
Negus vezers mo bel pesar no val .

Can me membra com amar solh
La fausa de mala merce,
Sapchatz que tal ira me colh ,
Per pauc vius de joi no.m recre.
Domna, per cui chan e demor ,
Per la bocha.m feretz al cor
D'un doutz baizar de fin' amor coral,
Que.m torn en joi e.m get d'ira mortal

Tals n'i a qued an mais d'orgolh,
Can grans jois ni grans bes lor ve!
Mas eu sui de melhor escolh
E plus francs, can Deus me fai be.
C'ora qu'eu fos d'amor a l'or,
Eu sui de l'or vengutz al cor.
Merce, domna non ai par ni engal.
Res no.m sofranh, sol que Deus vos me sol

Domna, si no.us vezon mei olh,
Be sapchatz que mos cors vos ve!
E no.us dolhatz plus qu'eu me dolh .
Qu'eu sai c'om vos destrenh per me.
Mas, si.l gelos vos bat' de for,
Gardatz qu'el no vos bat'al cor .
Si'us fai enoi, e vos lui atretal,
E ja ab vos no gazanh be per mal

Mo Bel-Vezer gart Deus d'ir' e de mal,
S'eu sui de lonh, e de pres atretal

Sol Deus midons e mo Bel-Vezer sal,

Tot ai can volh, qu'eu no deman ren al .		 When flowers are in the leaves green
And the sky’s serene and clear,
And the song of birds rings keen,
Sweetening my heart, as I wake here,
Then since birds sing with their art
I who have greater joy at heart,
Must sing true, since my daily bread
Is joy and song, all that’s in my head. 

She whom I want most on this earth,
And love the more with heart and faith,
She joys to hear and keep my words,
Gathers and stores my pleas always.
And if men die by true love’s art,
Then I must die, since in my heart
I bear her love, so true and fine,
All are false to one whom she’ll loyal find.

I know when I retire at night
That I shall barely sleep a wink.
My sleep I lose, forego it quite
For you, my lady, as I think!
And where a man hides his treasure
There will his heart reside forever.
Lady I can’t leave, if I see you not,
No sight is worth the beauty of my thought.

When I recall how I loved so
One who was false, without mercy,
I tell you such sorrow I did know
There was no path to joy for me.
Lady, for whom I sing and more,
Your lips wounded me to the core,
With a sweet kiss of love heart-true,
Grant joy, save me from mortal sorrow too.

Such as the proudest hearts may feel
When great joy or great good they see!
But I a finer spirit reveal,
And truer when God is good to me.
For when I’m on the fringes of love,
From fringe to centre then I move.
Thanks, lady: no one equals me.
I lack not, if God saves you for me.

Lady, if I should see you not,
Do not grieve more than I grieve,
Know well I see you in my heart!
He strikes at you because of me.
But if he strikes through jealousy,
Take care the heart he cannot reach.
If he vex you, annoy him too,
Then he’ll not win good for ill from you.

 God, guard my Sweet-Sight from harm
Whether I’m near to her or far.
God, my lady and Sweet-Sight save,
That’s all I wish, no more I crave.

70,42 Quan vei la flor, l'erba vert e la folha 

Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 4; track 8 (Isabelle Bonnadier) *****

Quan vei la flor, l'erba vert e la folha
Et au lo chan dels auzels pel boschatge,
Ab l'autre joi, qu'eu ai en mo coratge,
Poya mos chans ! e nais e creis e brolha.
E no m'es vis c'om re poscha valer,
S'eras no vol amor et joi aver,
Pus tot can es s'alegr' e s'esbaudeya.

Ja no crezatz qu'eu de joi me recreya
Ni.m lais d'amar per dan c'aver en solha,
Qu'eu non ai ges en poder que m'en tolha,
C'amors m'asalh, que'm sobresenhoreya
E.m fai amar cal que.lh plass', e voler.
E s'eu am so que no.m deu eschazer,
Forsa d'amor m'i fai far vassalatge.

Mas en amor non a om senhoratge,
E qui l'i quer, vilanamen domneya,
Que re no vol amors qu'esser no deya.
Paubres e rics fai amdos d'un paratge!
Can l'us amics vol l'autre vil tener,
Pauc pot amors ab ergolh remaner,
Qu'ergolhs dechai e fin' amors capdolha.

Eu sec cela que plus vas me s'ergolha
E cela fuih que.m fo de bel estatge,
C'anc pois no vi ni me ni mo messatge
Per qu'es be sal que ja doncs no m'acolha !
Mas dreih l'en fatz, qu'eu m'en fatz fol parer,
Car per cela que.m torn' en no-chaler,
Estauc aitan de leis que no la veya .

Mas costum' es tostems que fols foleya,
E ja non er qu'el eis lo ram no colha
Que.l bat e.l fer , per c'ai razo que.m dolha,
Car anc me pres d'autrui amor enveya.
Mas, fe qu'eu dei leis e mo Bel-Vezer,
Si de s'amor me torn' en bon esper,
Ja mais vas leis no farai vilanatge.

Ja no m'aya cor felo ni sauvatge,
Ni contra me mauvatz cosselh no creya,
Qu'eu sui sos om liges, on que m'esteya,
Si que de sus del chap li ren mo gatge !
Mas mas jonchas li venh a so plazer,
E ja no.m volh mais d'a sos pes mover,
Tro per merce.m meta lai o.s despolha.

L'aiga del cor, c'amdos los olhs me molha,
M'es be guirens qu'eu penet mo folatge ,
E conosc be, midons en pren damnatge
S'ela tan fai que perdonar no.m volha.
Pois meus no sui et ilh m'a en poder,
Mais pert ilh qu'eu en lo meu dechazer !
Per so l'er gen s'ab son ome plaideya .

Mo messatger man a mo Bel-Vezer,
Que cilh que.m tolc lo sen e lo saber,
Me tol midons e leis , que no la veya .

Amics Tristans, car eu no.us posc vezer,
A Deu vos do, cal que part que m'esteya.

70,43 Quan vei la lauzeta mover

Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 4; track 9 (Gerard Zuchetto) *****
Quan vei la lauzeta mover
De joi sas alas contral rai,
Que s'oblid' e.s laissa chazer
Per la doussor c'al cor li vai,
Ai tan grans enveya m'en ve
De cui qu'eu veya jauzion,
Meravilhas ai, car desse
Lo cor de dezirer no.m fon.

Ai, las tan cuidava saber
D'amor, e tan petit en sai,
Car eu d'amar no.m posc tener
Celeis don ja pro non aurai.
Tout m'a mo cor, e tout m'a me,
E se mezeis e tot lo mon!
E can se.m tolc, no.m laisset re
Mas dezirer e cor volon .

Anc non agui de me poder
Ni no fui meus de l'or' en sai
Que.m laisset en sos olhs vezer
En un miralh que mout me plai.
Miralhs, pus me mirei en te,
M'an mort li sospir de preon,
C'aissi.m perdei com perdet se
Lo bels Narcisus en la fon.

De las domnas me dezesper!
Ja mais en lor no.m fiarai!
C'aissi com las solh chaptener,
Enaissi las deschaptenrai.
Pois vei c'una pro no m'en te
Vas leis que.m destrui e.m cofon,
Totas las dopt' e las mescre,
Car be sai c'atretals se son.

D'aisso's fa be femna parer
Ma domna, per qu'e.lh o retrai ,
Car no vol so c'om deu voler,
E so c'om li deveda, fai.
Chazutz sui en mala merce,
Et ai be faih co.l fols en pon!
E no sai per que m'esdeve,
Mas car trop puyei contra mon.

Merces es perduda, per ver,
Et eu non o saubi anc mai,
Car cilh qui plus en degr'aver,
No.n a ges, et on la querrai
A can mal sembla, qui la ve,
Qued aquest chaitiu deziron
Que ja ses leis non aura be,
Laisse morrir, que no l.aon

Pus ab midons no.m pot valer
Precs ni merces ni.l dreihz qu'eu ai,
Ni a leis no ven a plazer
Qu'eu l'am, ja mais no.lh o dirai.
Aissi.m part de leis e.m recre!
Mort m'a, e per mort li respon ,
E vau m'en, pus ilh no.m rete,
Chaitius, en issilh, no sai on.

Tristans, ges no.n auretz de me,
Qu'eu m'en vau, chaitius, no sai on.
De chantar me gic e.m recre,
E de joi e d'amor m'escon .

When I see the lark display
His wings with joy against the day,
Forgetting, fold then fall away,
As sweetness to his heart makes way,
Such great envy then invades
My mind: I see the rest take fire,
And marvel at it, for no way
Can my heart turn from its desire.

 Ah, I so dearly wished to know
Of love, yet so little learn,
For I cannot keep from loving her
Who will not have me, though I burn.
She stole my heart, and all of me,
And she herself, and worlds apart;
Lacking herself, now nothing’s left
But longing and the willing heart.

 For ‘I’ has no power over ‘I’
Nor has had since the day I know
I let myself gaze in her eye,
The mirror that pleased me so.
Mirror, now I’m mirrored in you,
Profound sighs are killing me,
I lost myself as he did too
Narcissus gazing in the deep.

 Of every lady I despair!
And in them I can place no trust!
Those I once would seek to cheer
Leave them cheerless now I must.
Seeing her then who won’t have me,
She who destroys me and confounds,
I doubt them all and can’t believe,
Knowing them other than they’re found.

 My lady shows herself, not to my good,
A woman indeed, scorns my behest,
Since she wishes not what she should
But what’s forbidden her finds best.
Now I’m fallen from all grace,
I’ve done well on the asses’ bridge!
And don’t know why I’m in disgrace,
Except I’ve asked a world too much.

 Mercy’s lost, and gone from sight
And now I can retrieve it not.
Since she who owns to it of right
Has none to give, and where’s it sought?
How little it seems to those who see –
What would she want with me poor wretch? –
That without her nothing’s here for me,
She lets me die who’ve no help left.

 Since with my lady there’s no use
In prayers, her pity, or pleading law,
Nor is she pleased at the news
I love her: then I’ll say no more,
And so depart and swear it’s done!
I’m dead: by death I’ll answer her,
And off I’ll go: she’ll see me gone,
To wretched exile, who knows where?

 Tristram, none will hear of me:
Off I’ll go, who knows where?
I’ll sing no more, resigned I’ll be,
And banish joy and love of her

70,44? Tant ai mon cor plan de joia


 Troubadours Art Ensemble; La Troba Vol 1; cd 4; track 10 (Gerard Zuchetto) *****
Tant ai mo cor ple de joya,
Tot me desnatura .
Flor blancha, vermelh' e groya
Me par la frejura,
C'ab lo ven et ab la ploya
Me creis l'aventura,
Per que mos chans mont' e poya
E mos pretz melhura .
Tan ai al cor d'amor,
De joi e de doussor,
Per que.l gels me sembla flor
E la neus verdura .

Anar posc ses vestidura,
Nutz en ma chamiza,
Car fin' amors m'asegura
De la freja biza.
Mas es fols qui.s desmezura,
E no.s te de guiza.
Per qu'eu ai pres de me cura,
Deis c'agui enquiza
La plus bela d'amor,
Don aten tan d'onor,
Car en loc de sa ricor
No volh aver Piza.

De s'amistat me reciza
Mas be n'ai fiansa,
Que sivals eu n'ai conquiza
La bela semblansa.
Et ai ne a ma deviza
Tan de benanansa,
Que ja.l jorn que l'aurai viza,
Non aurai pezansa.
Mo cor ai pres d'Amor,
Que l'esperitz lai cor,
Mas lo cors es sai, alhor,
Lonh de leis, en Fransa.

Eu n'ai la bon' esperansa.
Mas petit m'aonda,
C'atressi.m ten en balansa
Com la naus en l'onda.
Del mal pes que.m desenansa ,
No sai on m'esconda.
Tota noih me vir' e.m lansa
Desobre l'esponda .
Plus trac pena d'amor
De Tristan l'amador,
Que.n sofri manhta dolor
Per Izeut la blonda.

Ai Deus car no sui ironda,
Que voles per l'aire
E vengues de noih prionda
Lai dins so repaire
Bona domna jauzionda ,
Mor se.l vostr' amaire
Paor ai que.l cors me fonda,
S'aissi.m dura gaire.
Domna, per vostr' amor
Jonh las mas et ador
Gens cors ab frescha color,
Gran mal me faitz traire

 Qu'el mon non a nul afaire
Don eu tan cossire ,
Can de leis au re retraire,
Que mo cor no i vire
E mo semblan no.m n'esclaire.
Que que.m n'aujatz dire ,
Si c'ades vos er veyaire
C'ai talan de rire.
Tan l'am de bon' amor
Que manhtas vetz en plor
Per o que melhor sabor
M'en an li sospire.

 Messatgers, vai e cor,
E di.m a la gensor
La pena e la dolor
Que.n trac, e.l martire.		 So full is my heart of joy now,
All is changed for me.
Flowering red, white, and yellow,
The winter seems to be,
For, with the wind and rain, so
My fortune’s bright I see,
My songs they rise, and grow
My worth proportionately.
Such love in my heart I find,
Such joy and sweetness mine,
Ice turns to flowers fine
And snow to greenery.

I go without my clothes now,
One thin shirt for me,
For noble love protects now
From the chilly breeze.
But he’s mad who’ll not follow
Custom and harmony,
So I’ve taken care I vow
Since I sought to be
Lover of loveliest,
To be with honour blest:
Of her riches I’d not divest
For Pisa, for Italy.

 From her friendship I’m severed
Yet my faith’s so in place,
That I can barely counter
The beauty of her face.
I cannot hope to wed here
Such happiness and grace,
On the day when I see her
Weightlessness I taste.
To Love my heart’s as near
As body to spirit clear, 
Though she is far from here,
Fair France where I am placed.

I’m full of hope that’s true now.
But that’s little use to me,
She holds me in suspense I vow
Like a ship upon the sea.
From sad thoughts that follow,
I cannot win free.
Each night, head on pillow,
I turn fretfully.
More pain of love I suffer
Than Tristan the lover,
Who felt much dolour
For Iseult, her beauty.

 Oh God were I a swallow
Flying through the air,
Rising from the depths below
Where I now despair.
Sweet and joyous lady, know
Without your loving, there,
I die, my heart it breaks so
The pulse is scarcely there.
My lady for your grace
I clasp my hands and pray
Lithe body and fresh face,
Have brought me many a care.

The world and its affairs
Could not absorb me so,
That when men spoke of her
My heart it would not glow,
My face not brighten there.
When I speak of her also
You’ll quickly judge I care
Seeing my laughter grow.
My love for her’s so deep
Often too I must weep,
So that my sighs taste sweet
Sweeter for tears they share.

Messenger, go now, fleet
Of foot, tell those you meet
Of all the pain and grief
It brings, the suffering I bear


70,45 Tuih cil que.m preyon qu'eu chan


Tuih cil que.m preyon qu'eu chan,
Volgra saubesson lo ver,
S'eu n'ai aize ni lezer.
Chantes qui chantar volria,
Qu'eu no.n saup ni chan ni via,
Pois perdei ma benanansa
Per ma mala destinansa.

Ai las com mor de talan
Qu'eu no dorm mati ni ser,
Que la noih, can vau jazer,
Lo rossinhols chant' e cria,
Et eu, que chantar solia,
Mor d'enoi e de pezansa,
Can au joi ni alegransa.

D'amor vos dirai aitan:
Qui be la saubes tener,
Res plus no.n pogra valer.
Per Deu mout fo bona.lh mia,
Mas no.m duret mas un dia!
Per qu'es fols qui ses fermansa
Met en amor s'esperansa.

Amors m'a mes en soan
E tornat a no-chaler .
E s'eu l'agues en poder,
Dic vos qu'e.n feira feunia
Mas Deus no vol c'Amors sia
Res don om prenda venjansa
Ab coup d'espa' o de lansa .

Amors, e.us prec de mon dan,
C'autre pro no i posc aver.
Ja mais blandir ni temer
No.us quer, c'adoncs vos perdria.
Ben es fols qui'n vos se fia,
C'ab vostra fausa semblansa
M'avetz trait en fiansa.

Lemozi, a Deu coman
Leis que no.m vol retener,
Qu'era pot ilh be saber
S'es vers aco que.lh dizia ,
Qu'en terr' estranha.m n'iria,
Pois Deus ni fes ni fiansa
No m'i poc far acordansa.

Pero per un bel semblan
Sui enquer en bon esper.
Mon Conort dei grat saber,
C'ades vol qu'eu chan e ria.
E dic vos que, s'ilh podia,
Eu seria reis de Fransa,
Car al plus qu'ilh pot, m'enansa .

No m'o tenh a vilania
S'eu m'ai sai bon' esperansa,
Pois ilh lai re no m'enansa .

Romeu man que per m'amia
E per lui farai semblansa
Qu'eu ai sai bon' esperansa .







Alas! How I die of desire!
I cannot sleep morning or evening
for at night, when I go to lie down
the nightingale sings and calls,
and I,who was wont to sing,
die of sorrow and grief,
when I hear joy and delight

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