A keresés eredménye

When I see the lark display.

When I see the lark display
His wings with joy against the day,
Forgetting, fold then fall away,
As sweetness to his heart makes way,
Such great envy then invades
My mind: I see the rest take fire,
And marvel at it, for no way
Can my heart turn from its desire.
 
Ah, I so dearly wished to know
Of love, yet so little learn,
For I cannot keep from loving her
Who will not have me, though I burn.
She stole my heart, and all of me,
And she herself, and worlds apart

So full is my heart of joy now.

So full is my heart of joy now,
All is changed for me.
Flowering red, white, and yellow,
The winter seems to be,
For, with the wind and rain, so
My fortune’s bright I see,
My songs they rise, and grow
My worth proportionately.
Such love in my heart I find,
Such joy and sweetness mine,
Ice turns to flowers fine
And snow to greenery.
 
I go without my clothes now,
One thin shirt for me,
For noble love protects now
From the chilly breeze.
But he’s mad who’ll not follow
Custom and harmony,
So I’ve taken care I vow
Since I sought to be
Lover of loveliest,
To be with honour blest:
Of her riches I’d not divest
For Pisa, for Italy.
 
From her friendship I’m severed
Yet my faith’s so in place,
That I can barely counter
The beauty of her face.
I cannot hope to wed here
Such happiness and grace,
On the day when I see her
Weightlessness I taste.
To Love my heart’s as near
As body to spirit clear,
Though she is far from here,
Fair France where I am placed.
 
I’m full of hope that’s true now.
But that’s little use to me,
She holds me in suspense I vow
Like a ship upon the sea.
From sad thoughts that follow,
I cannot win free.
Each night, head on pillow,
I turn fretfully.
More pain of love I suffer
Than Tristan the lover,
Who felt much dolour
For Iseult, her beauty.
 
Oh God were I a swallow
Flying through the air,
Rising from the depths below
Where I now despair.
Sweet and joyous lady, know
Without your loving, there,
I die, my heart it breaks so
The pulse is scarcely there.
My lady for your grace
I clasp my hands and pray
Lithe body and fresh face,
Have brought me many a care.
 
The world and its affairs
Could not absorb me so,
That when men spoke of her
My heart it would not glow,
My face not brighten there.
When I speak of her also
You’ll quickly judge I care
Seeing my laughter grow.
My love for her’s so deep
Often too I must weep,
So that my sighs taste sweet
Sweeter for tears they share.
 
Messenger, go now, fleet
Of foot, tell those you meet
Of all the pain and grief
It brings, the suffering I bear.