some weirdo cats in this world... yippee yiyaa you get humans in wolf skins ... leaves me with the message of my great ancestor // Arnaut Daniel = The bitter air makes those bough-laden woods barren, which the sweet one thickens with leaves, and the gleeful beaks of the wandering birds it keeps stammering and dumb, couples and single ones, therefore I endeavour to act and speak pleasantly to many for the sake of her who has cast me low from high, for whom I dread to die if my grievance isnt eased. So bright it was, my first enlightenment in choosing her about whom my heart believes my eyes, I dont care for secret inviting becks of another woman, if she turns away my rare entreats: but it is joy to me to hear her wish; I shall follow the fair words of her who has taken me so much that in serving her I am [devoted] from head to toe. Hist, Love! am I welcome? To display, I fear, if you repel me, such words (ill) that youd better cut this, since Im a faithful lover, dear and not fleeting; but my firm, strong heart makes me conceal in many directions that, albeit I deny it, Id need a kiss my hot heart to refresh, since other remedies are useless. If he agrees, he who is tormenting me, to make me closer to that epitome of worth, of the mute prayers which huddle inside me shall be made to her clear my thoughts: that I would be dead but it helps me endure that expectation which I endear her to shorten, which alone keeps me gay and joyful, since of other joys nones worth a minnow. Sweet visage, laden with all qualities, to endure from your hands shall be pride, since you are the end of all my follies, because of which I have suffered many ill slander; but scoffing doesnt turn me from you nor makes me part [from you] wealth, since never have I loved with less vanity anything: rather, I long for you more than those of Doma long for God. Now get ready, you lyrics and song, to show before the king that welcomes you, since Worth, blind here, is doubled there, and kept is the habit of giving gifts and food: gladly I bring you there. Ah, for her wondrous ring to behold! Never have I been far from Aragon without, all of a sudden, craving to go there; but here they have shouted: Stay! The rhymes are done: let the heart behold every night her who suits her absent Arnaut, since in other thought I cannot put my whole will.
Posted on: Sun, 13 Apr 2014 21:53:33 +0000
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