| ERA·M COSSELHATZ, SENHOR ... | MEN, A WORD OF WISDOM. GIVE ... |
| Bernart de Ventadorn | trans. John Frederick Nims (from Provençal) |
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Era·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 ai' 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 perdo. 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: qu'e·lh vi cobrir sa faisso, c'anc no·m poc dir oc no no. E Domna, a prezen amat autrui, e me a celat, si qu'eu n'aya tot lo pro et et la bela razo. |
Men, a word of wisdom. Give, you that know a thing or two. One for whom alone I live said she loved me. Very true; yet it's true the rumor's out there's a secret friend about. Nothing I've gone halves in yet would I share with such regret. Head a whirl of worries, I sit and puzzle: what to do? Let her practice on the sly and assume I never knew? Or would humoring hurt more than it would to rant and roar? Should or shouldn't? shouldn't? should? What's the best of nothing good? Say I'm mum: they nudge and wink and I'm everybody's fool. Just an easy mark, they think; too adjustable a tool. If I lose my love, to boot, I'm forever destitute. Nothing to inspire me then; little cause to write again. Close to bedlam as I live, I'd be in the place for good if I brooded "Won't forgive!" Play it smarter's what I should. Seeing how the chances run, better half a girl than none. Lovers aloud about their "right" pace the empty rooms at night. Since my lady rides her heart tandem, should I make a scene? No, I'd stutter at the start; couldn't tell her what I mean. And, if any heard "Thank you!" for a thing he's made to do, then she owes me thanks - and more. Things I've made allowance for! Beautiful deceiving eyes once upon my own would play in a flicker of surmise. Though they've turned another way, there's a fact I can't forget: how, when gala crowds are met, though her eyes go hither, yon, mostly mine they linger on. Tears are in the ink I fling harum-scarum: greetings to the world's most attractive thing, madly most delicious you! With a thought no years erase: how you covered up your face at good-by - were sobbing so couldn't breathe a yes or no. E Lady, in the eyes of men play at love and play again. Love me where there's none to see: words for others; lips for me. |
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Trans. Copyright © Mrs. Bonnie Nims 1971 - publ. Rutgers University Press