Duke of Aquintane Guilluame IX
Pos de chantar
Pos de chantar m'es pres talentz,
Farai un vers don sui dolenz:
Mais non serai obedienz,
En Peitau ni en Lemozi. Translation:
As the desire to sing takes hold of me,
I will make a song about my sorrow;
I will no longer be a servant of love
In Poitou nor in Limousin.
Qu'era m'en irai en eisil:
En gran paor, en grand peril,
En guerra laissarai mon fil,
E faran li mal siei vezi.
For now I will go into exile:
In great fear, in great peril,
In war, I will leave my son
And his people will harm him.
Lo departirs m'es aitan grieus
Del senhoratge de Peitieus!
En garda lais Folcon d'Angieus
Tota la terra e son cozi.
The departure from the realm
Of Poitiers is so difficult for me!
I leave Foucon of Angers in charge
Of all the land and of his cousin.
Si Folcos d'Angieus no.l socor,
E.l reis de cui ieu tenc m'onor,
Faran li mal tuit li pluzor,
Felon Gascon et Angevi.
If Foucon of Angers does not help him
And the king from whom I hold my realm,
Many people will bring him harm,
Treacherous Gascons and Angevins.
Si ben non es savis ni pros,
Cant ieu serai partiz de vos,
Vias l'auran tornat en jos,
Car lo veiran jov' e mesqui.
If he is neither wise nor mighty
When I will have left you,
They will soon overthrow him
For they will see him young and weak.
Merce quier a mon compaignon
S'anc li fi tort qu'il m'o perdon;
Et ieu prec en Jesu del tron
Et en romans et en lati.
I seek mercy on my companion
If I have ever wronged him, may he pardon me,
And I pray to Jesus on the throne,
In French and in Latin.
De proeza e de joi fui,
Mais ara partem ambedui,
Et eu irai m'en a scellui
On tut peccador troban fi.
I have might and joy,
But now we all part,
And I go to the One
With whom all sinners find peace.
Mout ai estat cuendes e gais,
Mas Nostre Seigner no.l vol mais;
Ar non puesc plus soffrir lo fais,
Tant soi aprochatz de la fi.
I have been most jovial and joyful,
But our Lord wants that no more;
Now I can suffer this burden no longer
Since the end draws so near.
Tot ai guerpit quant amar sueill,
Cavalaria et orgueill;
E pos Dieu platz, tot o acueill,
E prec li que.m reteng' am si.
I have left behind all that I once loved
Chivalry and pride;
And since it pleases God, I accept all that
And pray Him to retain me in His presence.
Toz mos amics prec a la mort
Que vengan tut e m onren fort,
Qu'eu ai avut joi e deport
Loing e pres et e mon aizi.
I pray all my friends, at my death
That they all come and give me great honor,
For I have known joy and pleasure
Far and near and in my realm.
Aissi guerpisc joi e deport
E vair e gris e sembeli.
Thus I renounce joy and pleasure
The brown, grey, and sable furs.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Pos de chantar by Duke of Aquintane Guilluame IX )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Harivansh Rai Bachchan
(27 November 1907 – 18 January 2003)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
(20 October 1854 – 10 November 1891)
- A Child's Christmas in Wales, Dylan Thomas
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- The Tiger, William Blake
- The Solitary Reaper, William Wordsworth
Poem of the Day
- Εntity, Elena Ioannou
- Resent therefore, hasmukh amathalal
- Colour, novoti gcisakazi Calpurnia j ..
- Not feasible, hasmukh amathalal
- The heart, Leong Ming Loong
- Not shy away, hasmukh amathalal
- Time, novoti gcisakazi Calpurnia j ..
- who, Cee Bea
- Give and Take, Md. Ziaul Haque
- She has Fallen Ill, Md. Ziaul Haque