QUAN REVERDEJON LI CONDERC ... |
WHEN FALLOW FIELDS TURN GREEN AGAIN ... |
Amanieu de la Broqueira | trans. James H. Donalson (from Provençal) |
Quan reverdejon li conderc, E la lauzeta puej' al mont, E li auzelet, dui e dui, En lur lati, segon que·s es, Fan retendir la calmeilla Pel fin joi qu' ins en lor s'es mes, Per ma enemigua m'esperc Que·m te marrit e deziron, Per so quar tostem si·m defui. Ai! Si ja l'en penra merces? Qu'ieu no sai consis conseilla, Quar de leis no ve negus bes. So fan lauzengier entenerc, Per cui Jovens bais' e confon Per lur fals' amor e destrui E son fait d'aiso plaides Don lo maritz se coreilla Gran tort, canc non fo res. Estra lur grat cre jois m'alberc, Que·m tenra baut e jauzion, E si·m jauzis jauzirai lui. Mas, pel senhor qu'en crotz fo mes, Sa color fresq' e vermeilla Camja mon sen, tal ora es. Molt n'am entresenh et auberc Per leis, mais c' autra re del mon, Donar e deport e desdui, Cortz e guerras e gens conres; E qui d'aiso s'apareilla Tost deu aver si dons conques. Fe que dei al portal saint Loberc, Mal fara s'ap si no·m rescon En tal luec on siam abdui; E sia fait ab genhs cortes C'aisi pueja jois en treilla, Quan de dos amicx es empres. Sel que ditz qu'ieu ab leis re perc Me fai sospirar de prion, Qu' ieu l'am finamen ses autrei, E c'ela d'aiso fina n'es Don li hueill el cors mueilla, De fol joc me soi entremes. E1 Pr' En Porta-joia d'Engolmes Volgran·s Amaneus Aureilla Lo vers si dons aver trames, E2 O pr' En Paire de Bodeles. |
When fallow fields turn green again and larks fly up into the hills, and little birds by two and two, each in his language as it is make all the moor resound with song of the fine joy that's entered in, my enemy makes me despair and leaves me marred and longing too, this happens always, if I fail. Ah! shall I not then pity her? I don't know what advice to give: far from her, I see nothing good. Sinister flatterers do this, by whom the young are taken down by their false love and damaging, thereby becoming quarrellers, disquieting the injured ones: a big mistake and all for nought. All thanks aside, joy shelters me and makes me bold and makes me glad and if I'm glad, I'll gladden her; but by the Lord up on the cross, her fresh and ruddy coloring can change my mind, such is the time. I don't much like hauberk and flag for her, but with anyone else, to give, enjoy and jest with them: courts and wars and feasting folk, and who prepares himself for these ought soon to have his men subdued. What I swore at St.Loubert's gate won't do if I'm not hid with him in such a place where we are both: and let it be with courtly folk for that will raise the joy on high when undertaken by two friends. The one who tells me that I've lost can make me sigh out of the depths, I love her well, but without leave, and she is fine in this way too because her eyes and body dance and I'm amidst a foolish, joke. E1 Sir Porte-joie of Angoulême, Amaneus of Aureilhan gives what his men have sent along. E2 Or good Sir Pierre of Bordelais. |
Trans. Copyright © James H. Donalson 2003