No More Learning

' cries the thief.

No man who sees her and has faith

In her sweet looks, her lovely eyes;

Could ever believe, in any way

Her heart is evil: her mind, it lies:

But waters that slide calmly by

Drown more than those that roar and sigh.

They deceive who seem so fair,

Oh, be wary of the debonair.

From every place she might be

I absent myself most carefully,

And so as not her form to see

I pass, eyes closed, and nervously.

So he follows Love, who avoids it,

And it pursues the man who flees it.

But I'm determined to pass it by,

Till I see it again in my lady's eye.

That will not be, if she torments me,

Peace and a truce are all I'm asking,

For it grieves me to exit limply,

And lose the good of all this suffering.

May she guard me and keep me hers,

And if we are not mutual lovers,

No other love it seems will shine

As bright to light this heart of mine.

As I am, would he were taken too,

My Auvergnat, then we'd make two,

For he could no more fare

Far from Bel Vezer of Beaucaire.

Tristan, though it seem not so to you,

Yet I love you more than I used to do.

Can l'erba fresch'e? lh folha par

When fresh leaves and shoots appear,

And the blossom gleams on the bough,

And the nightingale high and clear

Raises his voice, and sings aloud,

I joy in him, and enjoy the flowers,

And joy in my lady and I, for hours;

By joy on all sides I'm caught and bound,

But this is joy, and all other joys drowned.

Alas, how I die of musing deeply!

Many a time I'm so deep in thought,

Ruffians could abduct me, neatly,

And of the business I'd know naught.

By God, Love, you find me an easy matter,

With few friends, and no other master.
Why did you not constrain my lady

Before desire took me completely?

I marvel now how I can bear

Not to reveal to her my longing.

For when I behold my lady there,

Her lovely eyes are so charming

I can scarce stop myself running to her.

And so I would, were it not for fear,

For never has one so shaped and made

For love such diffidence displayed.

I love my lady and hold her dear,

And dread her, and respect her so,

I never dare speak of myself for fear,

Nor seek anything, nor ask aught, no;

Yet she knows of my pain and dolour,

And, when it pleases her, does me honour,

And, when it pleases her, I do with less,

So no reproach worsens my distress.

If I could work the enchanter's spell,

I'd make children of all my foes,

So none could ever spy or tell,

Nor do aught that might harm us both.

Then I'd know I'd see my noble one,

Her sweet eyes, fresh complexion,

And kiss her mouth in such a way

It would show for a month and a day.

It would be sweet to find her alone,

While she slept, or pretended to,

Then a sweet kiss I'd make my own,

Since I'm not worthy to ask for two.

By God, lady, little of love we've won!

Time goes by, and the best is done.

We need secret signs, you and I:

Boldness fails, so let cunning try!

A man should blame his lady indeed,

When she deters him from loving,

For endless talk about love may breed

Boredom, and set deception weaving.

For one can love and lie elsewhere,

And lie all the more smoothly where

There's no proof. Good lady deign

To love me, and I'll not lie or feign.

Go, messenger, no less esteem me

If I'm afraid to go see my lady.

Lo tems vai e ven e vire

Time comes, and goes, and runs away,

In days, and months, and so in years;

And I, alas, have naught to say,

For my longing ever one appears.