I thrive on youth and joy,
and youth and joy keep me alive,
for my friend's the very gayest,
which makes me gay and playful;
and since I'm true,
she should be faithful:
my love for him has never strayed,
nor is my heart the straying kind.
I'm very happy, for the man
whose love I seek's so fine.
May God with joy richly repay
the man who helped us meet.
If anyone should disagree,
pay him no heed; listen only
to the one who knows one often picks the blooms
from which one's own broom's made.
The lady who knows about valor
should place her affection
in a courteous and worthy knight
as soon as she has seen his worth,
and she should dare to love him face to face;
for courteous and worthy men
can only speak with great esteem
of a lady who loves openly.
I've picked a fine and noble man,
in whom merit shines and ripens -
generous, upright and wise,
with intelligence and common sense.
I pray to him to believe my words
and not let anyone persuade him
that I ever would betray him, except I found myself betrayed.
[Ami], your worth
is known to all good men;
therefore I make this request:
please, grant me your protection.
Trans. Meg Bogin, in The Women Troubadours. I've emended the name in the last stanza - for reasons absolutely opaque to me, Bogin has translated Amics as 'Floris', complete with a note about how this is probably a figure of speech, Floris being the hero of a popular romance. Erm. The Countess does refer to Floris and Blanchfleur in a later poem, but Amics clearly doesn't correlate to Floris in any dialect. If it's a literary reference, it would be to Ami et Amile, but I find that a bit of a stretch when 'friend' would make perfect sense here. At any rate, I've emended the translation to Ami, as there's no way of preserving the friend/name dualism in English.
and youth and joy keep me alive,
for my friend's the very gayest,
which makes me gay and playful;
and since I'm true,
she should be faithful:
my love for him has never strayed,
nor is my heart the straying kind.
I'm very happy, for the man
whose love I seek's so fine.
May God with joy richly repay
the man who helped us meet.
If anyone should disagree,
pay him no heed; listen only
to the one who knows one often picks the blooms
from which one's own broom's made.
The lady who knows about valor
should place her affection
in a courteous and worthy knight
as soon as she has seen his worth,
and she should dare to love him face to face;
for courteous and worthy men
can only speak with great esteem
of a lady who loves openly.
I've picked a fine and noble man,
in whom merit shines and ripens -
generous, upright and wise,
with intelligence and common sense.
I pray to him to believe my words
and not let anyone persuade him
that I ever would betray him, except I found myself betrayed.
[Ami], your worth
is known to all good men;
therefore I make this request:
please, grant me your protection.
Trans. Meg Bogin, in The Women Troubadours. I've emended the name in the last stanza - for reasons absolutely opaque to me, Bogin has translated Amics as 'Floris', complete with a note about how this is probably a figure of speech, Floris being the hero of a popular romance. Erm. The Countess does refer to Floris and Blanchfleur in a later poem, but Amics clearly doesn't correlate to Floris in any dialect. If it's a literary reference, it would be to Ami et Amile, but I find that a bit of a stretch when 'friend' would make perfect sense here. At any rate, I've emended the translation to Ami, as there's no way of preserving the friend/name dualism in English.