1. |
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Love, seeing me without sadness, and tired of serving Him, recommended that I find a mistress, and He would be on my side. After listening well, I found one that pleased me. But don't be sad for me: she is the most beautiful woman in all of France.
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2. |
Bergerette Savoysienne
01:26
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My dear shepherdess from Savoy, tell me if you will be mine, and I will give you a drink and my little bonnet. "I am the nearest neighbor of Monsieur le Cure, and nothing you can say will change my desire for Francois from Bourguignon."
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3. |
J'ay le rebours
00:53
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I have the opposite of what I want
I converted to counterfeit joy
All the fun I was so afraid to lose .
I struggle so much, that it breaks my heart
to see the defeat of love
My pain is as great as it is secret
I regret that my happiness is hopelessly lost
Whoever gets me drunk might make my mind happy.
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4. |
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In God’s name, whatever people say,
when I see the fresh green grass
and the fine weather
and the nightingale singing,
then true love compels me
to sing sweetly about a pretty girl:
‘Marion, leave Robin
and love me!
I ought to try my best
and wear a wreath of flowers
for such a pretty sweetheart,
when I see the rose in bloom, the
fresh green grass and fine weather.’
When I see the rose in bloom, the
fresh green grass and fine weather
and the nightingale singing,
then true love urges me
to be joyful, for he
who does not love does not live;
so anyone who wants lasting
happiness ought to try his best
to find love and a sweetheart
and to serve and honor them both.
In God’s name, whatever people say,
the pangs of love assail my heart.
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5. |
Sur le joli jonc
01:43
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In the pretty hay I frolic with my sweet friend.
In this lovely, graceful, tasty, and loving May, where noble loves gather, I find my love. We are both joyful and solicitous in the pretty hay where our love began again.
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6. |
Plainte de papetiers
01:47
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The papermakers' complaint
A Picard and Norman, we
A Champenois who's called la Ruine
They'd make our companion be.
But don't you know the good old ways
Leave our poor world these present days.
The masters are in one accord
That there aren't jobs enough in France now,
And so we'll journey to Provence
By the road to Sisteron
We'll try our luck in Carcasonne,
A small town, but of great renown.
These masters ask it, of their will,
To have their workmen of their choosing,
Night and day, for good or ill.
Just let them go where they are fit to,
They're out to drive us down the pits.
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7. |
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Come to Paris for the good life with jolly companions! In both the morning and evening you will find fresh bread to eat; drink good, clear wine and feast on all sorts of meats and fish, also fresh strawberries and ripe blackberries! Make merry with honorable ladies!
If you want to sing, you must drink! Good wine draws you to bed, and bad knocks you out; both make your friends sing. When I sing in a clear voice, I sing with a clear heart: If you want to sing, you must drink!
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8. |
Se cuer d'amant
02:37
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If a lover's heart, by humbling itself, can deserve solace despite the wrongs he has done, I believe that my peerless lady should release me from my sufferings. I do nothing but grow melancholy, but nevertheless I must not be blamed. For indeed we see the greatest men acting foolishly sometimes, even the wisest of them, so, since I am only a prisoner, I am in a much better position to say, without getting it wrong: If a lover's heart, by humbling itself, can deserve solace despite the wrongs he has done, I believe that my peerless lady should release me from my sufferings
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9. |
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May God be in this house, and wealth and joy in abundance.
Our Lord Noel sends us to his friends--that is, to lovers, and to the courtly and well-bred--to collect some coppers as a Christmas offering.
Our Lord is reluctant to ask for them himself, but to those who are noble and well-mannered he has sent us in his place; we are some of his wards and children.
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10. |
Hymne
02:23
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Hymn
To the dearest, fairest woman
Who sets my heart ablaze with light,
To the angel, the immortal idol,
Greetings in immortality!
She permeates my life
Like air impregnated with salt
And into my unsated soul
Pours the taste for the eternal.
Sachet, ever fresh, that perfumes
The atmosphere of a dear nook,
Forgotten censer smoldering
Secretly through the night,
Everlasting love, how can I
Describe you truthfully?
Grain of musk that lies unseen
In the depths of my eternity!
To the dearest, fairest woman
Who is my health and my delight
To the angel, the immortal idol,
Greetings in immortality!
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11. |
Tristesses de la lune
03:05
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Sadness of the Moon
Tonight the moon dreams with more indolence,
Like a lovely woman on a bed of cushions
Who fondles with a light and listless hand
The contour of her breasts before falling asleep;
On the satiny back of the billowing clouds,
Languishing, she lets herself fall into long swoons
And casts her eyes over the white phantoms
That rise in the azure like blossoming flowers.
When, in her lazy listlessness,
She sometimes sheds a furtive tear upon this globe,
A pious poet, enemy of sleep,
In the hollow of his hand catches this pale tear,
With the iridescent reflections of opal,
And hides it in his heart afar from the sun's eyes.
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Bergerette Portland, Oregon
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