76r]    5 10 15 20

¶ Dum ludis floribus velud lacivia, Le Dieu d’Amour moi tient en tiel angustia,      Merour me tient de duel e de miseria, Si je ne la ay quam amo super omnia. Eius amor tantum me facit fervere Qe je ne soi quid possum inde facere; Pur ly covent hoc seculum relinquere, Si je ne pus l’amour de li perquirere. Ele est si bele e gente dame egregia, Cum ele fust imperatoris filia; De beal semblant e pulcra continencia, Ele est la flur in omni regis curia. Quant je la vey, je su in tali gloria, Come est la lune celi inter sidera! Dieu la moi doint sua misericordia, Beyser e fere que secuntur alia. Scripsi hec carmina in tabulis. Mon ostel est enmi la vile de Paris. May Y sugge namore, so wel me is; Yef Hi deye for love of hire, duel hit ys!

¶ While you play in flowers as if in wantonness,     The God of Love binds me in such anguish, Holding for me a mirror of sorrow and misery, Since I don’t have her whom I love above all. Love of her makes me burn so fervently That I don’t know what I can do about it; For her I must give up this world, If I can’t be worthy of her love. She’s a lady so superbly beautiful and refined, As if she were an emperor’s daughter; Of lovely appearance and beautiful demeanor, She’s the flower in every king’s court. When I see her, I’m in such ecstasy, Like the moon among the stars of heaven! May God grant her to me by his mercy, To kiss and do the other things that follow. I’ve written these songs on a tablet. My lodging’s amid the city of Paris. I may say no more, as seems best; Should I die for love of her, sad it is!

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