PASTORELA | PASTORALE |
Airas Nunez - (Galician) | trans. James H. Donalson |
Oí oj' eu ![]() d' u cavalgava per ![]() e a pastor estava senlheira, e ascondi-me pola ascuitar; e dizia mui ben este cantar: So-lo ramo verde florido vodas fazen a meu amigo, e choran olhos d' amor. E a pastora parecia mui ben e chorava e estava cantando, e eu mui passo foi m'achegando pola oir e sol non falei ren; e dizia este cantar mui ben: Ai estorninho do avelanedo, cantades vos e moir' eu e peno, d' amores ei mal. E eu vi-a sospirar enton e queixava-s' estando con amores, e fazia guirlanda de flores; des i chorava mui de coraçon e dizia este cantar enton: Que coita ei gran de sofrer, amar amigo e non o ousar veer, e pousarei so-lo avelanal. Pois que a guirlanda fez a pastor foi-se cantand', indo-se manselinho, e tornei-m' eu a meu caminho, ca de a nojar non ouve sabor; e dizia este cantar a pastor: Pola ribeira do rio cantand' ia la virgo d' amor. - Quen amores ha como dormirá, ai bela frol! |
Today I heard a singing shepherdess while I was ridinq on the river-bank; the shepherdess was very good at it, and I hid out so I could hear her sing; she sang this song and did it very well: Underneath the green and flowery branch they're pledging now the vows of one I love, and my eyes weep for love. The shepherdess looked very good to me, and she was weeping as she sang her song, and very slowly, I went closer still, but just to listen, and without a word; and she was sinainq very well this song: Ah, starlinq in the grove of filbert-trees, sing on and let me die of grief alone for love has stricken me. And then it was I saw her heave a sigh as she complained of suffering from her love, and she was making up a wreath of flowers and all the while she wept as from her heart and then she sang the song that I repeat: What worry must I undergo for this, to love my friend when I dare not see him! I'll rest beneath the filbert-tree. And when the shepherdess had made her wreath she went off singing in a modest way and I went back and rode upon my way for I had no desire to bother her; and then the shepherdess went on to sing: Along the river-bank the virgin sang a song of love - When one's in love how will he sleep O pretty flower! |
Trans. Copyright © James H. Donalson 2005