Peire Cardenal
BnF MS. 12473 fol.149

Guilhem Figueira
BnF MS 854 fol. 109v

Peire Vidal
BnF MS. 12473 fol. 27.

Quascus plor e planh son dampnatge,
sa malenans'e sa dolor.
Mais yeu las! N'aie mon coratge
tan gran ir'e tan gran tristor,
que ja mos jorns planh ni plorat
non aurai lo valent prezat,
lo pros Vescomte, que mortz es,
de Bezers, l'ardit e•l cortes,
lo gay e.l mielhs adreg e.l blon,
lo mellor cavallier del mon.

Each man weeps and laments his loss,
his ill fortune and his woe.
But, alas, my heart is swollen
with such great rage and sorrow
that, even a lifetime's grief
and tears are not enough to mourn that brave,
beloved, noble viscount of Béziers,
]Who is dead]
the cheerful, dexterous, knight with golden hair,
the best the world has ever seen.

Mort l'an, et anc tan gran otrage
no vi hom ni tan gran error
fach mai ni tan gran estranhatge
de Dieu et a Nostre Senhor,
cum an fag li can renegat
dels fals linhatge de Pilat
que l'an mort; e pus Dieus mort pres
per nos a salvar, semblans es
de lui, qu'es passatz al sieu pon
per los sieus estorser, l'aon.

They have killed him, and never was such outrage
nor such terrible wrong endured.
Never was there seen such a godless act.
nor one so heinous to Our Lord,
as that committed by those renegade dogs
of Pilate's criminal horde.
They have killed him; and as God did die
for our salvation, so did he;
for, heedless of his own interests,
he put his people's freedom above all

Mil cavalhier de gran linhatge
e mil dompnas de gran valor
iran per la sua mort arratge,
mil borzes et mil servidor,
que totz foran gentheretat,
s'el visques, e ric et honrat.
Ar est mortz! Ai dieus, quals dans es!
Gardatz quals etz ni quo.us es pres,
ni selhs qui l'an mort, cui ni don,
qu'eras no.us acuelh ni.us respon.

A thousand knights of noble lineage
and a thousand ladies of great worth
despaired at the news that he was dead;
likewise, a thousand burghers and a thousand servers,
who, if only that knight had lived, would have grown
in wealth and honour and power.
Now he is dead! Oh, God, what disarray!
Consider who Thou art and whom they have taken away,
and who has slain him, and whence they came;
for he never more shall greet us, and he never shall answer again.

Ric cavalier, ric de linhatge,
ric per erguelh, ric per valor,
ric de sen, ric per vassallatge,
ric per dar e bon servidor,
ric d'orguelh, ric d'umilitat,
ric de sen e ric de foudat,
belhs e bos, complitz de totz bes,
anc no fo nulhs hom que.us valgues.
Perdut avem en vos la fon
d'on tug veniam jauzion.

O Knight, so rich in lineage,
so rich in pride and valour,
rich in judgment, rich in vassalage,
rich in bounty and a servant true,
rich in pride and in humility,
rich in reason and in lover's folly,
good and comely, with all qualities endowed,
there never was a man to match your worth.
In you we have lost the fountain
whence our joys all flowed.

Tornada

Belhs papaguais, anc tan vezat
no.m tenc amors, c'ar plus torbat
no.m tenga e.l dan que ai pres
del melhor Senhor c'anc nasques
aitan can clau mar en redon,
que m'an mort trachor, no sai don

Tornada

O beautiful plumed parrot, never was my heart
so stirred to joy by love as now
it is tormented by my loss
of the finest knight that ever was born
upon this sea-encircled earth.
Traitors from I know not where have killed my lord.

Ab votz d'angel, lengu'esperta, non bleza,
Ab motz sotils, plans plus c'obra d'engles,
Ben assetatz, ben ditz e sens repreza,
Miels escoutatz, ses tossir, que apres,
Ab plans, sanglotz, mostran la via
De Jhesu-Crist, que quex deuria
Tener, com el per nos la volc tener.
Van prezican com puescam Dieu vezer....

Si non, con il, mangem la bona freza
E-l mortairol si batut c'o-l begues,
E-l gras sabrier de galina pageza
E, d'autra part, jove jusvert ab bles,
E vin qui millior non poiria,
Don Franses plus leu s'enebria.--
S'ab bel vieure, vestir, manjar, jazer
Conquer hom Dieu, be-l poden conquerer

Aissi con cil que bevon la serveza
E manjo-l pan de juel e de regres,
E-l bro del gras buou lur fai gran fereza
Et onchura d'oli non volon ges,
Ni peis fresc gras de pescaria,
Ni broet ni salsa que fria.
Per qu'ieu conseil qui 'n Dieu a son esper
C'ab lurs condutz passe, qui 'n pot aver.

Religios fon, li premieir', enpreza
Per gent que treu ni bruida non volgues,
Mas jacopin apres manjar n'an queza,
Ans desputan del vin, cals mieillers es,
Et an de plaitz cort establia
Et es Vaudes qui-ls ne desvia!
E los secretz d'ome volon saber
Per tal que miels si puescan far temer.

Esperitals non es la lur paubreza:
Gardan lo lor prenon so que mieus es.
Per mols gonels, tescutz de lan' engleza,
Laisson selis, car trop aspre lur es.
Ni parton ges lur draparia
Aissi com sains Martins fazia:
Mas almornas, de c'om sol sostener
La paura gent, volon totas aver..

Ab prims vestirs, amples, ab capa teza,
D'un camelin d'estiu, d'invern espes,
Ab prims caussatz -- solatz a la francesa
Can fai gran freg -- de fin cuer marselhes,
Ben ferm liatz per maistria,
Car mal liars es grans follia,
Van prezicant, ab lur sotil saber,
Qu'en Dieu servir metam cor e aver.

S'ieu fos maritz, mot agra gran fereza
C'oms desbraiatz lonc ma moiller segues,
Qu'ellas e il an faudas d'un' ampleza
E fuoc ab grais fort leumen s'es enpres.
De beguinas re no-us diria:
Tals es turgua que fructifia,
Tals miracles fan, aiso sai per ver:
De sainz paires saint podon esser l'er.

Atressi com per fargar
Es hom fabres per razo,
Es hom laires per emblar
E tracher per tracio:
Que d'aquel mestier qu'om fai
Li aven us noms e-l n'eschai,
Que tal en sai--que, s'om o auzes dire,
Per so c'a fag for' apellatz traire

En Velai si fan joglar
Del saber de Gainelo!
Per que es dig qu'om si gar
Si co-l proverbis despo:
Ja no-t fizar en Velai
Ni en clergue ni en lai,
Qu'un pauc retrai-- al premier trabustire
Que fes Cayms, don avem auzit dire.

Ben es fols qui cuia far
Aisso que anc fach non fo!
Qu'en cug trachors chastiar
E treball m'en en perdo,
Que si Dieus non los deschai
Mais n'er que d'anhels en mai.
Que quan l'us trai -- ab fatz et ab aucire
L'autre ab ditz e l'autre ab escrire.

Quan trachor troba son par,
D'aquel fai son compainho,
Qu'a tracion apastar
An ops trachor e gloto.
E quan l'us trais desai
E l'autre trais delai,
E quan l'us vai -- l'autre fai lo martire,
Quan l'us lassa, l'autre-s pensa l'albire.

Trachor soli'om cassar
E penre coma lairo,
E aras lo ten hom car
E'n fai sescalc o bailo!
E si gran prelatz i chai
D'un fort gran trachor verai,
A hom esmai - que-l puesca el luoc assire
Qu'en sia donz e segner e regire.

Clergue si fan pastor
E son aucizedor!
E par de gran sanctor
Qui los vei revestir,
E•m pren a sovenir
Que n'Ezengris,un dia,
Volc ad un parc venir:
Mas pels cans que temia
Pel de mouton vestic
Ab que los escarnic,
Puois manget e traic
Tot so que li•abelic.

Clerics pretend to be shepherds,
But they are killers;
The likeness of sanctity is on them
When you see them in their habit,
And it puts me in mind
That Master Ysengrim, one day,
Wanted to get into a sheepfold,
and because he feared the dogs
he put on the skin of a sheep
with which he tricked them all.
Then he gobbled and glutted
As much as he liked

Rei e emperador,
Duc, comte e comtor
E cavalier ab lor
Solon lo mon regir!
Ara vei possezir
A clers la seinhoria
Ab tolre e ab trair
E ab ypocrezia,
Ab forsa e ab prezic!
E tenon s'a fastic
Qui tot non lor o gic
E sera, quan que tric.

Kings, emperors,
Dukes, counts, viscounts,
And knights, together,
Used to rule the world.
Now I see the power
In the hands of clerics
With stealing, betrayal,
Hypocrisy,
Violence, and sermons,
And they are highly offended
If you don't hand it all over to them,
And so it shall be, though it may take a while

Aissi can son major
Son ab mens de valor
Et ab mais de follor,
Et ab meins de ver dir
Et ab mais de mentir,
Et ab meins de paria
Et ab mais de faillir,
Et ab meins de clerzia.
Dels fals clergues o dic:
Que anc hom non auzic
A Dieu tant enemic
De sai lo tems antic.

The greater they are
The less they are worth
And the greater their folly,
The less their truth-telling
And the greater their lying,
The less their friendship
And the greater their dereliction,
And the less they keep faith with their calling.
Of false clerics I say this:
I have never heard of any man
So great an enemy to God
Since the ancient of days.

Can son en refreitor
No m'o tenc ad honor,
C'a la taula aussor
Vei los cussons assir
E premiers s'escaussir.
Aujas gran vilania:
Car i auzon venir
Et hom no los en tria.
Pero anc non lai vic
Paubre cusson mendic
Sezen laz cusson ric:
D'aitan los vos esdic.

When I am in a refectory
It's no great honour to me,
Because up at the high table
I see those shysters sitting
And the first to serve themselves the soup.
Listen to this great villainy:
That such truck dare to come there
And no one picks them out.
On the other hand, I never saw
One poor begging shyster there
Sitting next to any well-established shyster:
Of that much, anyway, I exonerate them.

Ja non aion paor
Alcais ni Almansor
Que abat ni prior
Los anon envazir
Ni lor terras sazir,
Que afans lor seria!
Mas sai son en cossir
Del mon consi lor sia
E com en Frederic
Gitesson de l'abric:
Pero tals l'aramic
Qui fort no s'en jauzic.

Let the Arab chiefs
And sultans never fear
That abbots or priors
Might ever attack them
And take their lands,
For that would be hard work.
No, they stay home rapt in thought,
How the whole world might be theirs
And how they might have cast
Lord Frederick from his sanctuary.
But there was one who attacked him
And did not rejoice in it much.

Clergue, qui vos chauzic
Ses fellon cor enic
En son comte faillic,
C'anc peior gent non vic.

Clerics, whoever depicted you
Without a cruel and vicious heart
Erred in his account,
For a worse breed I never saw.

Un estribot farai, que er mot maistratz,
De motz novels e d'al e de divnitatz.

I'll write an estribot that will be masterful,
full of art, new words and holy thoughts.

--Qu'ieu ai en Dieu crezensa que fon de maire natz,
D'una santa pieusela, per queol mons es salvatz.
E es paire e filhs e santa trinitatz,
E es en tres personas e una unitatz.
E cre queol cels eol tros ne fos per el traucatz
E'n trabuquet los angels: can los trobet dampnatz.
E crey que sans Joans lo tenc entre sos bratz
E•l bateget en l'aigua, et flum, can fo propchatz!
E conoc be la senha abanchas que fo natz:
El ventre de sa maire que•s volvc al destre latz
E cre Rom'e sant Peire a cuy fon comandatz
Jutge de penedensa, de sen e de foldatz.

For I believe in a God born of mother,
a holy virgin, through whom the world is saved.
He is the Father, Son and Holy Trinity,
and thus three persons in one, and I believe
that He opened the heavens' vault
and threw down the angels He found guilty,
and I believe Saint John held Him in his arms
and baptized Him in the river's water
and recognized Him before He was born
by moving within His mother's womb"
And I believe in Rome, and in Saint Peter,
judge of penitence, good sense and folly.

--Mas so non crezon clergue que fan las falcetatz,
Que son larc d'aver penre et escas de bontatz,
E son bel per la cara et ore de peccatz,
E devedon als autres d'aco que fan lurs atz,
E en loc de matinas an us ordes trobatz
Que jazon ab putanas trool solelhs es levatz,
Enans canton baladas e prozels trasgitatz:
Abans conquerran Dieu Cayfas o Pilatz.

But treacherous churchmen don't believe such things
they love to take but skimp with their bounty,
they present charming faces but are horrible in sin,
they prohibit others from what they themselves enjoy
and instead of matins they've invented a new office
which involves lying with a whore till sunrise e
and then singing ballades and proses full of gaiety.
Caiaphas and Pilate will attain God long before them.

--Monge solon estar dino los mostiers serratz
On azoravan Dieu denan las magestatz,
E can son en las vilas on an lurs poestatz,
Si avetz bela femna o es homs molheratz,
El seran cobertor, si•eus peza o si•eus platz!
E can el son desus eol cons es sagelatz
Ab las bolas redondas que pendon al matratz,
Con las letras son clausas e lo traucs es serratz,
D'aqui eyson l'iretge e li essabataz
Que juron e renegon e jogon a tres datz:
Aiso fan monge negre en loc de caritatz.

Monks used to be shut inside monasteries,
worshiping God before holy images, but now
if they are in a town beneath their sway
and find you with a lovely wife or mistress,
they'll take her (however much you may protest),
and when they're on top and her cunt is plugged
with those round balls hanging from their rod,
and when the letters are sealed and the hole closed,
from this will come forth heretics and Vaudois
who promise and abjure and play with three dice:
that is what the Black Monks consider charity.

--Mon estribot fenisc, que es tot compassatz,
C'ai trag de gramatica e de divinitatz!
E si mal o ai dig, que•m sia perdonatz,
Que yeu o dic per Dieu, qu'en sia pus amatz,
E per mal estribatz
Clergues.

My estribot is finished: its measure's right
and it's steeped in grammar and theology,
and may I be forgiven any errors it contains.
I dedicate it to God, that He may be more loved
and also to evil-seeking
clergymen.

Un sirventes vuelh far dels auls glotos
Que vendon Dieu e destruzon la gen,
E prezicon qu'el vivon sanctamen.
Ab bel semblan cuobron lurs trassios:
Per qu'ieu no vuelh jamais esser selaire
De lurs crois faitz on es deslialtatz,
Pus c'atrestant e ves Dieu encolpatz
Sel que manten lairon com es lo laire.

Lairon son el e renhon sobre nos:
Doncx ben em fol et ab pauc d'essien,
Pus laires es qui a lairon cossen.
Que farem doncx si no•ns en val razos
Cridem lo mal qu'ilh fan o que fan faire,
Si que puescon conoisser lors peccatz
E no•s tenga negus asseguratz
Si ve desfar son vezi o son fraire.

Fraire son tug, mas no son pas engals
Las partz qu'ilh fan dels bes de Jhesu Crist.
Ai verais Dieus, c'ab•ton sanc nos remsist,
Veias com es sancta glieiza venals
Que hom no i a dignetat ni prebenda
Si non lur fai soven donar secors,
O non es neps o filhs de tos pastors,
O non cossen lor deslial fazenda.

Faitz an felons e ditz esperitals,
Ab votz tenen et ab coratge trist!
Ieu cug qu'el son messatge d'Antecrist:
Gardatz si d'els pot ben issir totz mals.
Mais Dieus en fai tot jorn trop bel'esmenda:
C'on plus aut son pujat en las honors,
Cazon plus bas ab penas et ab plors,
El fons d'ifern, e autre cuelh la renda.

Rendas queron per laissar als parens,
E anc donatz no fon tan lor amicx
Que no sia per els tengutz mendicx
Si non lor fai remembransa prezens.
Sel qui conois e sap Santa Ecriptura
Es pauc prezatz si no sap de trafey
E non conois la lur deslial lei,
Que fan semblar de tot mal tort drechura.

Tornada .

Gardon si sel que fan de tort drechura
Que solamen fauc de lor ma rancura.

D'un sirventes far en est son que m 'agenssa
no•m vuolh plus tarzar ni far longa bistenssa,
e sai ses doptar qu'ieu n'aurai malvolenssa,
si fas sirventes
dels fals, d'enjans ples,
de Roma, que es caps de la dechasenssa,
on dechai totz bes.

Rom,' ab fois sembel tendetz vostra tezura,
e man mal morsel manjatz, qui que l'endura,
caravetz danhel ab simpla gardadura,
dedins lops rabatz,
serpens coronatz
de vibr'engenratz, per que•l diable•us cura
coma•ls sieus privatz.

No•m meravilh ges, Roma, si la gens erra,
que•l segle avetz mes en trebalh et en guerra,
e pretz e merces mor per vos e sosterra,
Roma enganairitz,
qu etz de totz mals guitz
e cima e razitz, que•l bons reis d'Englaterra
fon per vos trahitz.

Roma enganairitz, cobeitatz vos engana,
c'a vostras berbitz tondetz trop de la lana.
Lo sains esperitz, que receup carn humana,
entenda mos prec
e franha tos becs.
Roma, no m'entrecs, car es falsa e trafana
vas nos e vas Grecs.

Roma, als homes pecs rozetz la carn e l'ossa,
e guidatz los secs ab vos inz en la fossa:
trop passatz los decs de Dieu, car trop es grossa
vostra cobeitatz,
car vos perdonatz
per deniers pechatz. Roma, de gran trasdossa
de mal vos cargatz.

Roma, ben sapchatz que vostra avols barata
e vostra foudatz fetz perdre Damiata.
Malamen renhatz, Roma. Dieus vos abata
en dechazemen,
car trop falsamen
renhatz per argen, Roma de mal'esclata
e de mal coven.

Roma, veramen sai eu senes doptanssa
c'ab galiamen de falsa perdonanssa
liuretz a turmen lo barnatge de Franssa
lonh de paradis,
e•l bon rei Loïs,
Roma, avetz aucis, c'ab falsa predicanssa
l traissetz de Paris.

Roma, als Sarrazis faitz vos pauc de dampnatge,
mas Grecs e Latis liuratz a carnalatge.
Inz el foc d'abis, Roma, faitz vostre estatge,
en perdicion.
fa Dieus part no•m don,
Roma, del perdon ni del pelegrinatge
que fitz d'Avinhon.

Roma, ses razon avetz mainta gen morta,
e jes no•m sab bon, car tenetz via torta,
qu'a salvacion, Roma, serratz la porta.
Per qu 'a mal govern
d'estiu e d'invern
qui sec vostr'estern, car diables l'en porta
inz el fuoc d'enfern.

Roma, be•is decern lo mals c'om vos deu dire,
quar faitz per esquern dels crestians martire.
Mas en cal quadern trobatz c 'om deia aucire
Roma•ls crestians?
Dieus, qu es verais pans
e cotidians, me don so qu'eu desire
vezer dels Romans.

Roma, vers es pian que trop etz angoissosa
dels perdons trafans que fetz sobre Tolosa.
Trop rozetz las mans a lei de rabiosa,
Roma descordans.
Mas si•l coms prezans
viu ancar dos ans, Fransa n'er dolorosa
dels vostres engans.

Roma, tant es grans la vostra forfaitura
que Dieu e sos sans en gitatz a non-cura,
tant etz mal renhans, Roma falsa e tafura,
per qu'en vos s'escon
e•is magra e•is cofon
lo jois d'aquest mon. E faitz gran desmesura
del comte Raimon.

Roma, Dieus l'aon e•lh don poder e forsa
al comte que ton los Frances e•ls escorsa,
e fa•n planca e pon, quand ab els se comorsa;
et a mi platz fort.
Roma, a Dieu recort
del vostre gran tort, si•l plaz; e•l comte estorsa
de vos e de mort.

Roma, be•m conort quez en abans de gaire
venrez a mal port, si l'adreitz emperaire
mena adreich sa sort ni fai so que deu faire.
Roma, eu dic ver,
que•l vostre poder
veirem dechazer. Roma, lo vers salvaire
m 'o lais tost vezer.

Roma, per aver faitz mainta vilania
e maint desplazer e mainta fellonia:
tant voletz aver del mon la senhoria
que ren non temetz
Dieu ni sos devetz,
anz vei que fazetz mais qu 'ieu dir non poiria
de mal, per un detz.

Roma, tan tenetz estreg la vostra grapa
que so que podetz tener, greu vos escapa.
Si•n breu non perdetz poder, a mala trapa
es lo mons cazutz
e mortz e vencutz,
e•l pretz confondutz. Roma, la vostra papa
fai aitals vertutz.

Roma, cel qu 'es lutz del mon e vera vida
e vera salutz, vos don mal'escarida,
car tans mals saubutz faitz, per que lo mons crida.
Roma desleials,
razitz de totz mals,
els focs enfernals ardretz senes falhida,
si non penssatz d'als.

Roma, als cardenals vos pot hom sobreprendre
per los criminals pecatz que fan entendre,
que non pensa n d'als, mas cum puoscan revendre
Dieu e sos amics,
e no•i val castics.
Roma, grans fastics es d'auzir e d'entendre
los vostres prezicx.

Roma, eu sui enics, car vostre poders monta,
e car grans destrics totz ab vos nos afronta,
car vos etz abrics e caps d'engan e d'onta
e de deshonor;
e•il vostre pastor
son fals trichador, Roma, e quiols aconta
fai trop gran follor.

Roma, mal labor fa•l papa, quan tensona
ab l'emperador pel dreich de la corona
ni•l met en error ni•ls sieus guerriers perdona;
car aital perdos,
que non sec razos,
Roma, non es bos; enans qui l'en razona,
reman vergonhos.

Roma•l Glorios, que sofri mortal pena
en la crotz per nos vos done mal'estrena,
car voletz totz jors portar la borsa plena,
Roma de mal for,
que tot vostre cor
avetz en tresor; don cobeitatz vos mena
el fuoc que no mor

Roma, dei malcor, que portatz en la gola,
nais lo sucx, don mor lo mals e s'estrangola
ab doussor dei cor; per que•i savis tremola,
quan conois e ve
lo mortal vere
e de lai on ve (Roma, dei cor vos cola),
don li pieitz son ple.

Roma, ben ancse a hom auzit retraire
que•l cap sem vos te, per que•i faitz soven raire,
per que cug e cre qu'ops vos auria traire,
Roma, del cervel,
quar de mal capel
etz vos e Cistel, qu'a Bezers fezetz faire
mout estranh mazel.

Rom,' ab fois sembel tendetz vostra tezura,
e man mal morsel manjatz, qui que l'endura,
caravetz danhel ab simpla gardadura,
dedins lops rabatz,
serpens coronatz
de vibr'engenratz, per que•l diable•us cura
coma•ls sieus privatz.

Nom laissarai per paor
C'un sirventes non labor
En servizi dels clergatz,
E quan sera laoratz,
Conoisseran li plusor
L'engan e la fellonia
Que mou de falsa clersia,
Que lai on ant mais forssa ni poder,
Fant plus de mal e plus de desplazer.

Aquist fals prezicador
Ant mes lo segle en error,
Qu'il fan los mortals peccatz.
Pois cilh cui ant prezicatz,
Fant que vezon far a lor,
E tuich segon orba via.
Doncs si l'uns orbs l'autre guia,
Non van amdui en la fossa cazer?
Si fant, so dis dieus, qu'ie'n sai ben lo ver.

Vers es que nostre pastor
Son tornat lop raubador,
Qu'il raubon deves totz latz,
E mostron semblan de patz,
E confortan ab doussor
Lor ovelhas nuoich e dia;
Pois quan las an en balhia,
Et ilh las fant morir e dechazer,
Ist fals pastor; don eu m'en desesper.

Pois fan autra desonor
Al segle et a dieu major,
Que s'uns d'els ab fenma jatz,
L'endeman totz orrejatz
Tenral cors nostre senhor.
Et es mortals eretgia,
Que nulhs preire nois deuria
Ab sa putan orrejar aquel ser
Que l'endeman dejal cors dieu tener.

E si vos en faitz clamor,
Seran vos encusador,
E seretz n'escumenjatz;
Ni, s'aver no lor donatz,
Ab els non auretz amor
Ni amistat ni paria.
Vergena, sancta Maria,
Sius platz, domna, laissatz mel jorn vezer,
Qu'ieuls puosca pauc doptar e mens temer.

Vai, sirventes, ten ta via
E dim a falsaclercia,
C'aicel es mortz queis met e son poder,
Qu'a Tolosa en sap hom ben lo ver.

A per pauc de chantar no•m lais,
quar vei mort jovent e valor
e pretz, que non trob’on s’apais,
c’usquecs l’enpeinh e•l gieta por;
e vei tant renhar malvestat
que•l segl’a vencut e sobrat,
si qu’apenas truep nulh paes
que•l cap non aj’a son latz pres.

Qu’a Rom’an vout en tal pantais
l’Apostolis e•lh fals doctor
Sancta Gleiza, don Dieus s’irais;
que tan son fol e peccador,
per que l’eretge son levat.
E quar ilh commenso•l peccat,
greu es qui als far en pogues;
mas ieu no•n vuelh esser plaies.

E mou de Fransa totz l’esglais,
d’els qui solon esser melhor,
que•l reis non es fis ni verais
vas pretz ni vas Nostre Senhor.
Que•l Sepulcr’a dezamparat
e compr’e vent e fai mercat
atressi cum sers o borzes:
per que son aunit siei Frances.

Totz lo mons torn’en tal biais
qu’ier lo vim mal et huei peior;
et anc pus lo guit de Dieu frais,
non auzim pueis l’Emperador
creisser de pretz ni de bontat.
Mas pero s’ueimais laiss’en fat
Richart, pus en sa preizon es,
lor esquern en faran Engles.

Dels reis d’Espanha•m tenh a fais,
quar tant volon guerra mest lor,
e quar destriers ferrans ni bais
trameton als Mors per paor:
que lor erguelh lor an doblat,
don ilh son vencut e sobrat;
e fora miels, s’a lor plagues,
qu’entr’els fos patz e leis e fes.

Mas ja non cug hom qu’ieu m’abais
pels rics, si•s tornon sordeyor;
qu’us fis jois me capdell’e•m pais
qui•m te jauzent en gran doussor
e•m sojorn’en fin’amistat
de lieis que plus mi ven a grat:
e si voletz saber quals es,
demandatz la en Carcasses.

Et anc no galiet ni trais
son amic ni•s pauzet color,
ni•l cal, quar selha qu’en leis nais
es fresca cum roz’en pascor.
Bell’es sobre tota beutat
et a sen ab joven mesclat:
per que•s n’agrado•l plus cortes
e•n dizon laus ab honratz bes.

A per pauc de chantar no•m lais,
quar vei mort jovent e valor
e pretz, que non trob’on s’apais,
c’usquecs l’enpeinh e•l gieta por;
e vei tant renhar malvestat
que•l segl’a vencut e sobrat,
si qu’apenas truep nulh paes
que•l cap non aj’a son latz pres.

l have almost given up singing,
because l see youth and valour and merit
are dead, for they find no encouragement,
but everywhere rejection and refusal.
I see that evil reigns everywhere,
it has conquered the whole world.
so that scarcely any country can be found
whose head has not been caught in its snare.

Qu’a Rom’an vout en tal pantais
l’Apostolis e•lh fals doctor
Sancta Gleiza, don Dieus s’irais;
que tan son fol e peccador,
per que l’eretge son levat.
E quar ilh commenso•l peccat,
greu es qui als far en pogues;
mas ieu no•n vuelh esser plaies.

The Apostle and the false doctors of Rome
have put Holy Church in such jeopardy
that they have angered God.
They are so foolish and sinful,
that they have caused the heretics to rise up.
They (of Rome) are the ?rst to sin
and therefore it is difficult (for others) to behave otherwise;
but I do not wish to plead on their behalf.

E mou de Fransa totz l’esglais,
d’els qui solon esser melhor,
que•l reis non es fis ni verais
vas pretz ni vas Nostre Senhor.
Que•l Sepulcr’a dezamparat
e compr’e vent e fai mercat
atressi cum sers o borzes:
per que son aunit siei Frances.

The whole commotion comes from France,
from those who used to be better,
for the king is neither true nor faithful
towards valour, nor towards Our Lord.
He has abandoned the Sepulchre
and he buys and sells and deals
like a serf or a burgher:
for this his French subjects are dishonoured.

Totz lo mons torn’en tal biais
qu’ier lo vim mal et huei peior;
et anc pus lo guit de Dieu frais,
non auzim pueis l’Emperador
creisser de pretz ni de bontat.
Mas pero s’ueimais laiss’en fat
Richart, pus en sa preizon es,
lor esquern en faran Engles.

The whole world is turning in the wrong direction,
yesterday it seemed bad and today it is worse;
since he has broken God's law,
we have not heard that the Emperor's
honour and renown have increased.
But if he now foolishly
leaves Richard imprisoned.
the English will show him their displeasure.

Dels reis d’Espanha•m tenh a fais,
quar tant volon guerra mest lor,
e quar destriers ferrans ni bais
trameton als Mors per paor:
que lor erguelh lor an doblat,
don ilh son vencut e sobrat;
e fora miels, s’a lor plagues,
qu’entr’els fos patz e leis e fes.

The kings of Spain cause me anxiety.
they are so avid of war among themselves,
out of fear they send to the Moors
grey and bay war-horses:
this makes them (the Moors) doubly insolent
and brings about their (Spain's) defeat;
it would be better for them, if it pleased them,
to maintain peace, law and faith amongst themselves.

Mas ja non cug hom qu’ieu m’abais
pels rics, si•s tornon sordeyor;
qu’us fis jois me capdell’e•m pais
qui•m te jauzent en gran doussor
e•m sojorn’en fin’amistat
de lieis que plus mi ven a grat:
e si voletz saber quals es,
demandatz la en Carcasses.

But let no man think that l abase myself
for the rich, when their conduct is so bad;
for a pure joy guides and nourishes me
and keeps me in joy and sweet delight.
l repose in the pure friendship
of her who pleases me the most:
and if you wish to know who she is.
ask for her in the Carcasses.

Et anc no galiet ni trais
son amic ni•s pauzet color,
ni•l cal, quar selha qu’en leis nais
es fresca cum roz’en pascor.
Bell’es sobre tota beutat
et a sen ab joven mesclat:
per que•s n’agrado•l plus cortes
e•n dizon laus ab honratz bes.

She never betrayed nor deceived
her friend, nor did she make up her face,
she has no need. for her natural colour
is as fresh as a spring rose.
Her beauty is unsurpassed,
she combines youth and intelligence:
the most courtly people admire
and praise her with all honour.

GUIDED TOURS OF CATHAR CASTLES OF THE LANGUEDOC

You can join small exclusive guided tours of Cathar Castles
led by an English speaking expert on the Cathars
who lives in the Languedoc
(author of www.cathar.info and www.catharcastles.info )

Selected Cathar Castles. Accommodation provided. Transport Provided.

Cathar Origins, History, Theology.
The Crusade, The Inquisition, and Consequences

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Author: James McDonald MA, MSc.
Title: Cathars and Cathar Beliefs in the Languedoc
url: https://www.cathar.info
Date last modified: 8 February 2017

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