Com que mos chans sia bos (song 2) (अंग्रेज़ी में अनुवाद)

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Old Occitan

Com que mos chans sia bos (song 2)

Com que mos chans sia bos,
O qui que.l chan ni l'aprenha
Lieys de cui fatz mas chansos,
No fai semblan que.m retenha!
Quar si.l plagues ni.l fos dos,
Ja de l'amoros dezir
No.m fera aissi murir!
Quar per lieys m'auci d'enveya
Amors, et er sieus lo dans
S'ieu muer e reman mos chans.
 
Quar si vivia mil ans
Res qu'a lieys esser bon deya,
No.m seria nuls afans!
Quar, si m'auci, lieys guerreya,
Qu'a far en tot sos comans
Son faitz, e per lieys servir --
E ja no m'en vuelh gequir
D'amar, per dan que m'en venha--
Enans sai que non er pros
Que hom fassa d'un dan dos.
 
Li siei belh huelh amoros,
El sieu cors qu'amar no.m denha
E sas avinens faissos,
De lieys que fin joy mantenha
E m'es fals e cossiros,
Mas ieu no lo.y auzei dir
E lai on plus la remir!
E nostr' amor si desreya
Vas mi, e dobla mos chans
E.l joys e l'enveya grans.
 
Aissi.l suy, ses totz enjans,
E non ai cor que.m recreya
De lieys, ni.l serai camjans
Tan cum l'am ni.l cor m'esteya,
Totz temps son fin pretz prezans!
Pus de lieys no.m puesc partir,
Ni d'amar ni de ben dir,
Per merce.l prec que.l sovenha,
Si.l plai, que ab lieys no.m fos
L'esperansa dels Bretos
 
SaintMarkSaintMark द्वारा शनि, 27/08/2016 - 07:49 को जमा किया गया
आख़िरी बार शुक्र, 29/12/2017 - 23:27 को Ww WwWw Ww द्वारा संपादित
अंग्रेज़ी में अनुवादअंग्रेज़ी
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Whether or Not My Song Be Good

Whether or not my song be good,
Or whoever should sing it or show it to
Her for whom I make my songs,
She doesn’t pretend to keep me!
For if it pleased her or was sweet,
From ardent desire
She would never let me die
It is for her that envy kills me
Love, and now it is in her
If I die and my song stops.
 
For if I lived a thousand years
Nothing but to be to her a good servant
That would not hurt me at all
For, if she slays me, she is a warrior,
I am obliged that each of her commands
Be done, and to serve her –
And I do not want to put off
Loving her, whatever pain should befall me
To the contrary, I know that it is not profitable,
That which gives man such a sweet pain.
 
Her beautiful, passionate eyes,
Her heart which doesn’t deign to love me
And her graceful manners,
In her such fine joy resides
And to me she is false and hesitant,
But I dare not tell her
And the more I contemplate it
Our love, so desirable
Invades me, and redoubles my song
With such great joys and longing.
 
This is how I am towards her, all is vanity,
And I have neither the heart to leave
Her, nor to be changed
So deeply do I love her, my heart is extinguishing me
All time comes to its just end!
Since I cannot take myself away from her,
Neither from loving her, nor from telling her truly,
By mercy, I pray that she remembers me,
If it please, that to me she does not give
The hope1 of the Bretons2
 
  • 1. Or “wait.”
  • 2. For the return of King Arthur.
tdwarmstdwarms द्वारा शुक्र, 29/12/2017 - 23:22 को जमा किया गया
Pietro LignolaPietro Lignola के अनुरोध के जवाब में जोड़ा गया
"Com que mos chans ..." के अन्य अनुवाद
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