DESPEDIDA DEL AMOR LOVE'S FAREWELL
Garci Fernandez de Jerena trans. Brian Cole
Por una floresta estraña,
yendo triste muy pensoso
oí un grito pavoroso,
boz aguda con gran saña:
"Montaña"
iba esta boz diziendo,
"ora a Deus te encomiendo
que non curo más de España."

De la boz fui espantado
e miré con grand pavor,
e vi que era el Amor
que se chamava cuitado.
De grado
o seu grand planto fazía,
segund entendí dezia:
"Alto prez veo abajado".

Desque vi que se quexava,
por saber de su querella
pregunté a una donzella
que por la floresta andava;
falava
la donzella sin plazer:
"Plázeme de vos dezer
por que Amor tan triste estava:

"amigo, saber devedes
que Amor vive en manzela,
e se va ja de Castela
e nunca mientra bivedes
sabredes
dónde faze su morada;
por una que foy loada
de quexa porfazaredes."
I was in an unknown meadow,
walking sad and deep in thought
when I heard a fearsome shout,
a shrill voice in great anger bellowed:
"Mountain"
is what this great voice was saying,
"it's to God for you I'm praying,
for I care no more for Spain."

That voice raised panic in my brain
and looking in my trembling fear
I saw it was Love I could hear
and he was crying out in pain.
And so
he was making great complaint
and this is what I heard him say:
"I see great glory brought down low".

He was unhappy, I had seen.
To find the cause of his complaining
I put the question to a maiden
who was walking through the green;
she responded
without any sign of glee:
"I shall indeed be very pleased
to tell why Love was so despondent:

"listen, friend, and realise
that Love is living in great shame,
and he will leave Castile again.
Never more while you survive
will you learn
where he now has settled down;
a woman who won great renown
will give you cause for great concern.

Transl. copyright © Brian Cole, 2006


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