| LANQUAN LI JORN SON LONC EN MAI ... | WHEN THE DAYS ARE LONG, IN MAY ... |
| Jaufré Rudel | trans. A.S.Kline (from Provençal) |
Lanquan li jorn son lonc en mai M'es be;hs dous chans d'auzelhs de lonh, E quan mi sui partitz de lai Remembra·m d'un' amor de lonh: Vau de talan embroncx e clis Si que chans ni flors d'albespis No·m platz plus que l'iverns gelatz. Be tenc to Senhor per vreai Per qu'ieu veirai l'amor de lonh; Mas per un ben que m'en eschay N'ai dos mals, quar tan m'es de lonh: Ai! car me fos lai pelegris, Si que mos fustz e mos tapis Fos pels sieus belhs huelhs remiratz! Be·m parra jois quan li querray, Per amor Dieu, 1'alberc de lonh: E, si's lieis platz, alberguarai Pres de lieis, si be·m sui de lonh: Adoncs parra·l parlamens fis Quan drutz lonhdas et tan vezis Qu'ab bels digs jauzira solatz. Iratz e gauzens m'en partrai, S'ieu je la vei, l'amor de lonh; Mas non sai quoras la veyrai, Car trop son nostras terras lonh: Assatz hi a pas e camis, E per aisso no'n sui devis ... Mas tot sia cum a Dieu platz! Ja mais d'amor no'm jauzirai Si no'm jau d'est'amor de lonh; Que gensor ni melhor no·n sai Ves nulha part, ni pres ni lonh; Tant es sos pretz verais e fis Que lai el reng dels Sarrazis Fos hieu per lieis chaitius clamatz! Dieus que fetz tot quant ve ni vai E formet sest'amor de lonh Mi don poder, que cor ieu n'ai, Qu'ieu veya sest'amor de lonh, Verayamen, en tals aizis, Si que la cambra e·l jardis Mi resembles tos temps palatz! Ver ditz qui m'apella lechai Ni deziron d'amor de lonh, Car nulhs autres jois tan no·m plai Cum jauzimens d'amor de lonh. Mas so qu'ieu vuelh m'es atahis, Qu'enaissi·m fadet mos pairis Qu'ieu ames e nos fos amatz! E Mas so q'ieu vuoill m'es atahis Totz sia mauditz lo pairis Qe'm fadet q'ieu non fos amatz! | When the days are long, in May, Sweet the songs of birds afar, And when I choose from there to stray, I bring to mind a love that’s far. I walk face lowered, and I glower, And neither song nor hawthorn flower, Can please me more than winter’s ice. I hold the Lord for truth always By whom was formed this love afar, But for each good that comes my way Two ills I find, since she’s so far. Would I were a pilgrim at this hour, So staff and cloak from her tower, She’d gaze on with her lovely eyes! What joy it will be to seek that day, For love of God, that inn afar, And, if she wishes, rest, I say, Near her, though I come from afar, For words fall in a pleasant shower When distant lover has the power, With gentle heart, joy to realise. Sad, in pain, would I go away, Should I not see that love afar. For I don’t know when I may See her, the distance is so far. So many the roads and ways lower, That indeed I can say no more, But let all things be as she likes. The delights of love I never may Enjoy, if not joy of my love afar, No finer, nobler comes my way, From any quarter: near or far. So rich and high is her dower, That there in the Saracen’s tower For her sake I would be their prize. God that made all that goes or stays And formed this love from afar Grant me the power to hope one day I’ll see this love of mine afar, Truly, and in a pleasant hour, So that her chamber and her bower, Might seem a palace to my eyes. Who calls me covetous, truth to say, Is right, I long for a love afar, For no other joy pleases me today Like the joy in my love from afar. Yet what I wish is not in my power, It is my godfather’s curse, so sour, That I love, yet love should be denied . E For what I wish is not in my power, Cursed my godfather’s word so sour, Who has ruled my love should be denied. |
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Trans. Copyright © A.S.Kline 2009