[Ch II; MS #237] | |||
Ch 5 10 15 20 25 30 |
2. Balade Onques doulour ne fu plus angoisseuse Que mon las cuer endure nuit et jour, Ne tristesce plus aspre ne crueuse. Morir m’est joie et brief finer doulçour, Confort d’Ami m’est de nulle valour, Espoir n’a cause aux drois de ma leesce, Car le vouloir de ma belle maistresse Est de mon cuer faire vivre en martire. Quanque j’en ay me martrist, tue, et blesce, Que fons et fris comme au feu fait la cire. Ses rians yeulx, sa maniere joieuse, Son doulx regart, son gracieux atour, Sa grant beauté, sa parole amoureuse, Son plaisant corps, et sa fresche coulour Ne me donnent en tous lieux que doulour, Ne par eux n’ay de reconfort adresce. Com plus la voy, plus li di ma maistresse. N’ains y perçoy sa grace, Dieu li mire. Refus y croist et Pitié pour moy cesse Que fons et fris, etc. Et assez puet sa doulceur gracieuse Congnoistre que loyaument, sans fauls tour, L’aim, criens, et sers pour sa treseüreuse Mercy avoir, en gardant son honnour. Mais com je croy Dangier la fait sejour Avec Reffus, par quoy elle me lesse Plain de souspirs et de plains, en la presse De Desiriers, ou Desespoir se tire Si qu’emmy moy tout desconfort s’adresce, Que fons, etc. |
2. [The Lover Who Melts like Wax] Never was there more wretched sorrow Than what my poor heart endures night and day, Nor sadness more bitter and cruel; To die is joy to me and a quick end sweetness; Friend’s Comfort is of no value to me; Hope has no power to further my happiness, For the desire of my beautiful mistress Is to make my heart live in martyrdom. Whatever I have from her martyrs, kills, and wounds me, And I melt and burn as wax does in the fire. Her laughing eyes, her happy manner, Her sweet look, her gracious attire, Her great beauty, her words of love. Her pleasant body, and her fresh complexion Give me in all places only sorrow, Nor by them have I a way to comfort. The more I see her, the more I call her my mistress. For that I have never gained her grace, God protect her. Refusal grows in her and Pity for me stops So that I melt and burn as wax does in the fire. And well might her gracious sweetness Recognize that I love, fear, and serve her Loyally, without deceit, in order to gain Her most joyful Mercy, while guarding her honor. However, I believe that Danger stays with her With Refusal; by them she leaves me Full of sighs and moans, in the oppression Of Desire, where Despair advances, So that within me all discomfort grows, And I melt and burn as wax does in the fire. |
(see note) |