trobaire.org

a collection of literature from poets, bards, songwriters, and skalds in the SCA

Wolde that I ner ne coude singe

Poem (Canso): 

Wolde that I ner ne coude singe,
For it my loue doth strengthen grete
And an end to despaire bringe.
My thoghte alwaye thinks on her swete
Whose embrasse wolde graunte me rewarde.
If oonly she coude my wisshe retourne!
I feer she shal ner me come towarde,
And myn hertes dethe muste I mourne.

A, loue! wherefor canst thou not go,
For her bondes that helde thee hence
Are naught but thine? Why claspe hem so?
Saue that forme from grete offence
And seke another gentle dame
Who myghte thy loue retourne and share.
If she liued, if kunne I her name!
But none knowe I, such is my care.

My swetest loue, who peyneth me,
Foryif me for my cries of payne.
I ask for naught but thy merce
And kisse, if yet I mighte it gayne.

Translation: 

I wish that I could never sing,
For my love greatly strengthens it
And brings an end to despair.
My thought thinks sweetly upon her always
Whose embrace would be a reward to me.
If only she could return my desire!
I fear she will never approach me,
And I will have to mourn the death of my heart.

O, love! Why can you not leave me,
For those bonds that once held you
Are naught but of your making? Why imprison yourself here?
Save that body from great offense
And seek some other gentle lady
Who might be able to return your love.
O, if she lived! If I knew her name!
Unfortunately, I know no such person, such is my woe.

My sweetest love, who pains me,
Forgive me for my cries of anguish.
I ask for nothing but your mercy
And kiss, if I may yet receive it.