| AB LA DOLCHOR DEL TEMPS NOVEL ... |
NEW LIFE: THE WOODS ARE LEAFING OUT ... |
| William IX, Duke of Aquitaine | trans. A.S.Kline (from Provençal) |
Ab la dolchor del temps novel foillo li bosc, e li aucel chanton chascus en lor lati segon lo vers del novel chan; adonc esta ben c'om s'aisi d'acho don hom a plus tal an. De lai don plus m'es bon e bel non vei mesager ni sagel, per que mos cors non dorm ni ri, ni no m'aus traire adenan, tro qu'ieu sacha ben de fi s'el' es aissi com eu deman. La nostr' amor vai enaissi com la branca de l'albespi qu'esta sobre l'arbre tremblan, la nuoit, a la ploja ez al gel, tro l'endeman, que·l sols s'espan per las fueillas verz e·l ramel. Enquer me membra d'un mati que nos fezem de guerra fi, e que·m donet un don tan gran, sa drudari' e son anel: enquer me lais Dieus viure tan c'aja mas manz soz so mantel! Qu'ieu non ai soing d'estraing lati que·m parta de mon Bon Vezi, qu'ieu sai de paraulas com van ab un breu sermon que s'espel, que tal se van d'amor gaban, nos n'avem la pessa e·l coutel. | Out of the sweetness of the spring, The branches leaf, the small birds sing, Each one chanting in its own speech, Forming the verse of its new song, Then is it good a man should reach For that for which he most does long. From finest sweetest place I see No messenger, no word for me, So my heart can’t laugh or rest, And I don’t dare try my hand, Until I know, and can attest, That all things are as I demand. This love of ours it seems to be Like a twig on a hawthorn tree That on the tree trembles there All night, in rain and frost it grieves, Till morning, when the rays appear Among the branches and the leaves. So the memory of that dawn to me When we ended our hostility, And a most precious gift she gave, Her loving friendship and her ring: Let me live long enough, I pray, Beneath her cloak my hand to bring. I’ve no fear that tongues too free Might part me from Sweet Company, I know with words how they can stray In gossip, yet that’s a fact of life: No matter if others boast of love, We have the loaf, we have the knife! |
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Trans. Copyright © A.S.Kline 2009