Dirai vos senes doptansa By: Marcabru

Editions

Singable Translation PDF By: Carol Anne Perry Lagemann (CC BY SA 4.0)

Info

Number of Voices: 1
Voicings: S , A , T , B
Date: 12th century
Language: Occitan
Tags: canso troubadour/trouvère song Chansonnier La Vallière translation

Lyrics

Lyrics Direct Translation Poetic Translation
Dirai vos senes duptansa LINK: See Leonardo Malcovati's work at Trobar.org. (http://www.trobar.org/troubadours/marcabru/mcbr18.php) I will tell more boldly, braver,
D'aquest vers la comensansa! From its start this poem savor!
Li mot fan de ver semblansa! These words have an honest flavor!
?Escoutatz!? ?Listen well!?
Qui ves Proeza balansa He whom prowess makes to waver
Semblansa fai de malvatz. Has a twisted, stinking smell.
Jovens faill e fraing e brisa, Youth is broken, crushed, decaying;
Et Amors es d'aital guisa Likewise Love, deceit displaying,
De totz cessals a ces prisa, Steals, all in his rule betraying
?Escoutatz!? ?Listen well!?
Chascus en pren sa devisa, Hearts his debt forever paying?
Ja pois no?n sera cuitatz. It is useless to rebel.
Amors vai com la belluja Love is like a spark that lighted
Que coa?l fuec en la suja In the soot and fumed, unsighted,
Art lo fust e la festuja, Till the wood and straw ignited
?Escoutatz!? ?Listen well!?
E non sap vas qual part fuja No escape for those affrighted,
Cel qui del fuec es gastatz. Burnt by fire, and left a shell.
Dirai vos d'Amor com signa! I will tell how Love's a traitor,
De sai guarda, de lai guigna, Diplomat but agitator,
Sai baiza, de lai rechigna, Kissing now and smirking later.
?Escoutatz!? ?Listen well!?
Plus sera dreicha que ligna Purer Love would be, and straighter
Quand ieu serai sos privatz. If with me he came to dwell.
Amors soli' esser drecha, Love was true once, salve to fix you;
Mas er'es torta e brecha Now he's jagged, sharp; he sticks you,
Et a coillida tal decha With a twisted habit tricks you
?Escoutatz!? ?Listen well!?
Lai ou non pot mordre, lecha If he cannot bite, he licks you,
Plus aspramens no fai chatz. Cat's-tongue rough, to you impel.
Greu sera mais Amors vera Love's a lie, has been since ever
Pos del mel triet la cera Wax from honey he could sever,
Anz sap si pelar la pera! Peeling pears, adept and clever
?Escoutatz!? ?Listen well!?
Doussa'us er com chans de lera Sweet as lyre-song if, however,
Si sol la coa?l troncatz. His effects you undersell.
Ab diables pren barata He the devil's notice catches
Qui fals' Amor acoata, Who to fickle Love attaches,
No?il cal c'autra verga?l bata! But Love's torment no Hell matches!
?Escoutatz!? ?Listen well!?
Plus non sent que cel qui?s grata Love's as if you writhed with scratches
Tro que s'es vius escorjatz. Till your skin tore off and fell.
Amors es mout de mal avi! Love's born of a vile tradition,
Mil homes a mortz ses glavi, Killing hordes without munition?
Dieus non fetz tant fort gramavi! No more frightening magician!
?Escoutatz!? ?Listen well!?
Que tot nesci del plus savi Fools and sages yield submission,
Non fassa, si?l ten al latz. Crawling on his leash to Hell.
Amors a uzatge d'ega Love's a mare in heat's frustration,
Que tot jorn vol c'om la sega Nagging you without cessation,
E ditz que no?l dara trega Giving you no relaxation.
?Escoutatz!? ?Listen well!?
Mas que puej de leg'en lega, You can't break from her flirtation,
Sia dejus o disnatz. Not to eat or rest a spell.
Cujatz vos qu'ieu non conosca I know Love; he's overeager?
D'Amor s'es orba o losca Blind or just a darkness-seeker?
Sos digz aplan'et entosca, Poisoned words from soothing speaker!
?Escoutatz!? ?Listen well!?
Plus suau poing qu'una mosca Than a fly his sting is meeker?
Mas plus greu n'es hom sanatz. Harder, though, to cure its swell.
Qui per sen de femna reigna He who woman's weak direction
Dreitz es que mals li?n aveigna, Follows earns his own abjection,
Si cum la letra?ns enseigna! Say the Scriptures in collection!
?Escoutatz!? ?Listen well!?
Malaventura?us en veigna Woe to you if that subjection
Si tuich no vos en gardatz You do not completely quell.
Marcabrus, fills Marcabruna, Marcabru of luckless mother,
Fo engenratz en tal luna From his birth cursed to uncover
Qu'el sap d'Amor cum degruna, How love crumbles, how it smothers
?Escoutatz!? ?Listen well!?
Quez anc non amet neguna, He has never loved another
Ni d'autra non fo amatz. Nor been loved that he could tell.
Marcabru Carol Anne Perry Lagemann