Pos tals sabers mi sors e.m creis By: Raimbaut d'Aurenga


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


Number of Voices: 1
Voicings: S , A , T , B
Date: 12th century
Language: Occitan
Tags: translation trobar vers St. Germaine des Prés


LyricsPoetic Translation
Pois tals saber mi sortz eツキm creisSince skill in me so springs and grows
Que trobar sai ・E€・E et ieu o dic! ・E€・EThat I'm a poet (so I claim!),
Mal estara si non pareisUnless this verse my talent shows
Et er mi blasmat si m'en gic;And I write well, I'll face the blame;
Car so qu'om van'ab la lengaFor, if bragging words I utter,
Taing ben que en pes lo tenga,Thoughts of proof my mind encumber:
Car non pot aver pejor decFor baseless bragging all decry
Qui ditz so que no s'avenga.As a shameful, clumsy blunder.
Er ai gaug car sebram dels freisI love that now we part with snows
E remanon sol li abric;And leave the house for sport and game.
Li auzellet ・E€・E et es lor leisThe little birds, whose laws impose
Qe negus de chantar noツキis gic ・E€・EThat all must sing or bear the blame,
Us quecs s'alegr'en sa lengaAll in their own language utter
Pel novel temps queツキil sovenga;Joy, for each is Springtime's lover,
E dels arbres qu'eron tuit secAnd trees that once were brown and dry
Lo foils pels branquils s'arenga.Waken fuller, greener, lusher.
E qui anc jorn d'amar si feisAnd who to love once freely chose
Non taing q'era s'en desrazicOught not uproot from out its frame,
C'ab lo novel temps que s'espreisBecause, since Spring awoke and rose,
Deu quecs aver son cor plus ric;His heart is now enriched with flame;
E qui non sap ab la lengaHe who wonders how to utter
Dir so queツキil coven, aprengaWhat he feels, let him discover
Consi ab novel joi s'esplec:The way to win with spirits high:
C'aisi vol Pretz queツキs captenga.Worth says joy behooves a lover.
Estat ai fis amics adreisI'm true and faithful, as she knows,
D'una queツキm enganav'ab tric,To her, a sly, deceitful dame,
E car anc s'amors mi destreis,But since my feelings me enclose
Tos temps n'aurai mon cor enic;In bonds, I'm angry just the same;
Qu'aras non voill qu'ab sa lengaI don't want to hear her utter
Auir lo digz queツキm destrengaWords that bind and hold me under:
Per so qu'autre ab lieis s'abrecThe prize for which I hunt and sigh
Et eu caz so q'aicel prenga.Has been captured by some other.
Ab leis remangaツキl malaveisBut leave deceit and spite to those
Eツキl engans et ab son amic;Like her and him who me defame,
Que tals joys m'a pres e m'azeisSince joy has sent such pleasant throes
Dont ja non creirai fals prezic:It will not lead to any shame:
Anz voill c'om mi tail la lengaI will die before I utter
S'ieu ja de leis crei lausengaSlander, or such lies uncover;
Ni de s'amor mi desazec,Nor would I ever love deny
S'ieツキn sabia perdr'Aurenga.Though Orange's loss I suffer.
Ben taing qu'eu sia fis vas leisMy scruples faithfulness impose,
Car anc mais tant en aut non cric.So high a place is now my aim.
Que Nostre Seigner, el mezeis,For even God, Who life bestows,
Ab pauc de far non i faillic;Well-nigh displeased with her became,
C'apenas saup ab la lengaFor the Lord could barely utter,
Dir "aital vuoill que devenga";"Let this form and fame become her":
Qu'a la beutat q'en leis assecHe wants no other woman's eye
Non volc c'autra s'i espenga.Steeped in envy at this wonder.
Domna, noツキus sai dir loncs plaideis,No long petitions I compose,
Mas far de mi podetz mendicBut you can strip me bare and lame
O plus ric que anc no fon reis;Or make me king where fortune flows.
Del tot sui en vostre castic!I'm in your power, mild and tame!
Sol vos digatz ab la lengaWhat you bid me, simply utter:
Consi voletz queツキm captenga;I your will would rediscover;
Qu'eu ai cor qu'enasi estec,My heart I never could defy.
E que ja d'autra noツキm fenga!May I never love another.
Domna, noツキus quier ab la lengaLady, no requests I utter
Mas qu'en baisan vos estrengaBut to hold you, gain your succor,
En tal luoc on ab vos m'azec,And kiss you, and to be nearby,
E que d'ams mos bratz vos senga.In my arms you to recover.
Levet, fai auzir ta lenguaLevet, own your voice, whose color
En cuy beutatz se depenga;Must be pictured in the thunder;
C'aia tal vers selha qu'ieu decMay this, her song, so finely fly,
Per so que de miツキl sovenga.She remember me, her lover.
Raimbaut d'AurengaCarol Anne Perry Lagemann

Direct Translation

See Leonardo Malcovati's work at Trobar.org.