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.
I'd make children of all my foes,
So none could ever spy or tell,
Nor do aught that might harm us both.
Troubador Verse
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.
It's ever one, and never falters,
For I love one, it never alters,
Of whom I've had no happiness.
Since she mocks me every way,
Grief and harm have come to me;
She has sat me down to play
At a game where I lose doubly -
For that love has always died
That's only upheld on one side -
Unless she make peace, I confess.
I should indeed lay the blame
On myself, with all due reason,
For never was born one so lame,
Who serves idly, in every season.
And if she'll not chase folly away
My folly will double, for they say:
A fool fears not till he's in distress.
I will be a singer no more,
Nor be of Lord Eble's school,
For what is all this singing for?