Bernard de Ventadorn
Non es meravelha s'eu chan Poem by Bernard de Ventadorn
Non es meravelha s'eu chan
melhs de nul autre chantador,
que plus me tra.l cors vas amor
el melhs sui faihz a so coman.
Cor e cors e saber e sen
e fors' e poder i ai mes.
Si.m tira vas amor lo fres
que vas autra part no.m aten.
Cant eu la vei, be m'es parven
als olhs, al vis, a la color
car aissi tremble de paor
com fa la folha contra.l ven.
Non ai de sen per un efan
aissi sui d'amor entrepres;
e d'ome qu'es aissi conques
pot domn'aver almorna gran.
Ai Deus! car se fosson trian
d'entrels faus li fin amador,
e.lh lauzenger e.lh trichador
portesson corns el fron denan!
Tot l'aur del mon e tot l'argen
i volgr'aver dat, s'eu l'agues,
sol que ma domna conogues
aissi com eu l'am finamen.
Bona domna, re no.us deman
mas que.m prendatz per servidor,
qu'e.us servirai com bo senhor,
cossi que del gazardo m'an.
Ve.us m'al vostre comandamen,
francs cors umils, gais e cortes
Ors ni leos non etz vos ges
que.m aucizatz, s'a vos me ren.
A Mo Cortes, lai on ilh es,
tramet lo vers, e ja no.lh pes
car n'ai estat tan lonjamen.
(It's no wonder that I sing better than any other singer,
for I am the one whose heart is most strongly drawn towards love,
and the most obedient to Love's law.
Heart and body, intellect and instinct,
strength and power, all these have I engaged.
And the bridle steers me so strongly to love that I
pay no attention to anthing else.
When see her, it's visible in my eyes,
my face, my color,
because I tremble with fear like a leaf in the wind.
I have no more sense than a babe,
so dominated am I by love;
and for a man so vanquished,
a lady should have great sollicitude.
Oh, God! If it were only possible
to separate out the true lovers and the false;
and if the flatterers and cheats only wore horns
in the middle of their foreheads.
All the gold in the world, all the silver,
if I had them, I would give them away,
so that my lady could see how truly I love her.
Good Lady, I ask you nothing else but
that you take me as your servant,
so that I could serve you as a good master,
whatever my reward may be.
You see me here at your orders,
you who are honest and humble,
cheerful and courtly.
You are neither a lion nor a bear,
who would kill me if I gave myself to you.
To my Courtly One, where she is, I send this verse, and may it not weigh that am so far distant.)
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Comments about this poem (Non es meravelha s'eu chan by Bernard de Ventadorn )
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Edgar Allan Poe
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(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967)
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- As I Grew Older, Langston Hughes
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe