Azzo's daughter Beatriz was the
addressee
of one of his poems.
Troubador Verse
Sweet friend, do you wake or are you sleeping?
Sleep no more, now, you must be waking!
For in the east I see a star rise
Day-bringer, star familiar to my eyes,
And soon it will be dawn.
Sweet friend, I sing now and I call to you!
Sleep no more: I hear the bird sing too
That goes to seek day in the greenery,
I fear you may be harmed by jealousy,
And soon it will be dawn.
Sweet friend, for me now go to the window
And gaze on the stars from earth below
And see how I am your true messenger!
If you will not, it is you will suffer,
And soon it will be dawn.
Fair friend, since I parted from you,
I've not slept, nor ceased praying too,
I pray to God, who's the son of Mary,
To give you to me in sweet loyalty,
And soon it will be dawn.
Fair friend, you begged me not to sleep
There at the threshold, but a true watch keep
On all through the night till it is day.
Now my song and presence you dismay,
Yet soon it will be dawn.
Fair friend, I am in so rich a way
I wish no more for the dawn of day,
For the noblest ever born of mother
I hold and embrace, so they're no matter
Not jealous fool or dawn.
Peire Raimon de Toulouse (fl. 1180-1220)
Peire Raimon de Tolosa or Toloza was from the merchant class of Toulouse. He became a jongleur and spent time at the courts of Alfonso II of Aragon, William VIII of Montpellier, and probably, Raymond VI of Toulouse. He also lived in Italy (Lombardy and Piedmont), at the courts of Thomas I of Savoy, Guglielmo Malaspina, and Azzo VI of Este.
Azzo's daughter Beatriz was the addressee of one of his poems. This poem of fin'amor, perfect or true love, is one of the more comprehensive statements of the troubadour ideal.
De fin'amor son tot mei pensamen
On true love are all my thoughts bent
And my desires and my sweetest days,
With true and faithful heart I'll serve always,
To live close to Amor I do consent,
And in simplicity I'll serve him still
Though my service bring me only ill,
Since they are painful and dangerous
The torments Love grants his followers.
Yet to me Love has such honour sent
Since my heart's firmer truer in its ways
Than any other man; and if it seldom says
Who it loves that's for fear of ill intent;
Should her sweet smile, face, eyes fail to tell,
And her fine and noble manners as well,
Her gaiety, and fair speech, miraculous,
Who she is to those who are connoisseurs!
And since your actions are so nobly meant
Humble, in trembling, my love I phrase,
For there is no lover as faithful always
As I to you, Lady, through this world's extent.
Through audacity, through pride I know full well
I sin, in loving you: often my eyes must fill,
With tears, for to direct my heart is ruinous
Towards one who is so high among the first.
Alas! A man cannot yearn and yet absent
Himself from where he'd most deeply gaze,
Or throw off sorrow and his spirits raise,
But swiftly seeks what his hope shall dent.
And know, lady, that the more my tears well,
The more love grows for you and my goodwill,
A sweet pleasant thought's born in my heart thus
Who, night and day, love's thoughts cannot disperse.
I dare to ask that your mercy, pity be lent
To one who finds no equal in these days,
To you; yet if one grants you service and aid,
Fair Lady, his own true gain is consequent.
And as you are, of all, most beautiful,
Most worthy, my service shall be more careful,
Than ever it was, no less continuous
The love for your dear honour I rehearse.
Sweet lady, I desire and want you still
More than the world, for true love draws
Me to the lovely body I praise in verse.
Refuge grants Rambertis de Buvalel,
To worth and merit, and so evermore
In joy and gaiety all here shall immerse.
Anonymous Aubes (12th-13th century)
Quan lo rossinhols escria
While the nightingale sings away
To his mate both night and day
I'm with my sweet friend always,
Under the flower.
Till the watchman on the tower
Cries loudly: Lovers, now arise!
I see the dawn, and day's clear skies.
