Since our season begins to grow dark,
And the branches are bare of their leaves,
And I see the sun's rays so low
That the days are dark and shadowy,
And from the birds one hears no songs or lays,
For joy of love we should be glad.
One cannot serve this love so much
That its reward will not redouble a thousand times;
For distinction and joy and everything, and more,
Those who are capable of it shall have;
For it never went back on promises or broke them —
But it seems it will be difficult to conquer.
For it one should hope and suffer,
So excellent and superior is its distinction;
And it has never cared for worthless lovers,
For a stingy noble or a wretched proud man;
And in a thousand there are hardly two so true
That true love should obey them.
These troubadours, between truth and falsehood,
Confound lovers and wives and husbands,
And say that love is devious,
So that husbands become jealous because of it,
And ladies have begun to get ideas;
(And) one gladly listens to and hears them.
These false servants cause many to abandon
Distinction, and to alienate Youth completely,
And so I think that Excellence can no longer exist,
For Stinginess holds the barons' keys;
Many has he locked in the City of Decadence,
(And) from there Baseness lets not one escape.
Everywhere I see the world decline,
And so I am saddened and concerned
That the mercenary finds no one to feed him,
Thanks to slanderers who have a wicked tongue,
Who are worse than Judas, who betrayed God:
One should burn them and bury them alive!
We cannot either correct or excuse them;
Let us get away from them, and God help us,
For a joy from love refreshes and feeds me,
And I can swear there was never one so lovely;
I see her little, but for her I am merry,
And joyful, and may God give me her to enjoy.
Now one can cleanse and purify oneself
Of great blame — those who are encumbered —
And if one is worthy he will leave for Edessa,
And will abandon the perilous world;
And thus he can throw off the burden
Which makes many fall down and perish.
The song is done, and it should not age,
According to what the matter shows,
For good love never cheated or betrayed,
Rather it gives joy to steadfast lovers.
Cercamon says: whoever becomes angry with love,
It is amazing how he can suffer the torment;
For the torment of love is fear and terror,
And in it one cannot really either live or die.
And the branches are bare of their leaves,
And I see the sun's rays so low
That the days are dark and shadowy,
And from the birds one hears no songs or lays,
For joy of love we should be glad.
One cannot serve this love so much
That its reward will not redouble a thousand times;
For distinction and joy and everything, and more,
Those who are capable of it shall have;
For it never went back on promises or broke them —
But it seems it will be difficult to conquer.
For it one should hope and suffer,
So excellent and superior is its distinction;
And it has never cared for worthless lovers,
For a stingy noble or a wretched proud man;
And in a thousand there are hardly two so true
That true love should obey them.
These troubadours, between truth and falsehood,
Confound lovers and wives and husbands,
And say that love is devious,
So that husbands become jealous because of it,
And ladies have begun to get ideas;
(And) one gladly listens to and hears them.
These false servants cause many to abandon
Distinction, and to alienate Youth completely,
And so I think that Excellence can no longer exist,
For Stinginess holds the barons' keys;
Many has he locked in the City of Decadence,
(And) from there Baseness lets not one escape.
Everywhere I see the world decline,
And so I am saddened and concerned
That the mercenary finds no one to feed him,
Thanks to slanderers who have a wicked tongue,
Who are worse than Judas, who betrayed God:
One should burn them and bury them alive!
We cannot either correct or excuse them;
Let us get away from them, and God help us,
For a joy from love refreshes and feeds me,
And I can swear there was never one so lovely;
I see her little, but for her I am merry,
And joyful, and may God give me her to enjoy.
Now one can cleanse and purify oneself
Of great blame — those who are encumbered —
And if one is worthy he will leave for Edessa,
And will abandon the perilous world;
And thus he can throw off the burden
Which makes many fall down and perish.
The song is done, and it should not age,
According to what the matter shows,
For good love never cheated or betrayed,
Rather it gives joy to steadfast lovers.
Cercamon says: whoever becomes angry with love,
It is amazing how he can suffer the torment;
For the torment of love is fear and terror,
And in it one cannot really either live or die.