1. |
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Medieval French:
Adiu, Adiu, Dous Dame Yolie
Kar da vous si depart, Lo corps plorans
Mes a vous las, l’esprit et larme mie.
Lontan da vous, aylas, vivra dolent
Byen che loyal sera’n tout ma vie.
Poyrtant ay! Clere. Clere stelle vos prie,
Com larmes e sospirs, tres dousmante,
Che loyaute, haies pour vestre amye.
--
Farewell, farewell sweet fair lady
For my body in tears take leave of you
But I leave you my soul and my spirit.
Far from you I shall live, alas, in sorrow.
Though all my life I shall be loyal to you.
That is why, bright star, I beg you
With tears and gentlest sighs
Implore that you be loyal to your friend.
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2. |
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Medieval French:
Voulez vous que je vous chant
Un son d’amors avenant?
Vilain ne·l fist mie,
Ainz le fist un chevalier
Souz l’onbre d’un olivier
Entre les braz s’amie.
Chemisete avoit de lin
Et blanc peliçon hermin
Et blïaut de soie,
Chauces ot de jaglolai
Et sollers de flors de mai,
Estroitement chauçade.
Çainturete avoit de fueille
Qui verdist quant li tens mueille;
D’or ert boutonade.
L’aumosniere estoit d’amor
Li pendant furer de flor;
Par amors fu donade.
Si chevauchoit une mule;
D’argent ert la ferreüre,
La sele ert dorade.
Seur la crope par derrier,
Avoit planté trois rosiers
Por fere li honbrage.
Si s’en vet aval la pree:
Chevaliers l’ont encontree,
Biau l’ont saluade:
“Bele, dont estes vous nee?”
“De France sui, la löee,
Du plus haut parage”
“Li rosignous est mon pere
Qui chante seur la ramee
El plus haut boscage,
La seraine, ele est ma mere ,
Qui chante en la mer salee
El plus haut rivage.”
“Bele, bon fussiez vous nee,
Bien estes enparentee
Et de haut parage;
Pleüst a Dieu nostre pere
Que vous me fussiez donee
A fame espousade!”
---
Would you like me to sing
A charming song of love?
No rustic composed it,
But rather a knight
Under the shade of an olive tree
In the arms of his sweetheart.
She wore a linen shift
A white ermine wrap
And tunic of silk
Stockings of iris
And shoes of May flowers,
Fitting just right.
She wore a sash of leaves
That turned green in the rain;
It was buttoned with gold.
Her purse was of love
And had pendants of flowers;
It was a love gift.
She rode a mule;
Its shoes were of silver,
Its saddle of gold.
On the cropper behind her,
Three rosebushes grew
To provide her with shade
So she went down through a field:
Some knights encountered her,
And greeted her nicely:
“Lady, where were you born?”
“From France I am, the renowned,
Of the highest birth”
“The nightingale is my father
Who sings in the branches
High up in the woods,
The siren is my mother,
Who sings up high
on the shore of the salt sea.”
“Lady, such birth bodes well!
You are of fine parentage
And high birth;
Would that God our father
Would give you to me
As my wedded wife!”
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3. |
I Have Set my Hert so Hy
02:19
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(Medieval English)
I have set my hert so hy
My lykyth no love that lower ys;
And all the payn the y may drye,
Me thenk hyt doth my good, ywis,
Me thenk it doth, ywis.
For by these dreams I am enthralled*
So hertely have I set my thowght
Yt is my joie on them to calle
For love me hath in balus browght
Me thenk yt hath, ywis.
*Katherine’s contrafactum
--
(Modern English)
I have set my heart so high,
No love that is lower pleases me;
And all the suffering that I endure,
It seems to me it does me good, indeed,
It seems it does, indeed.
For by these dreams I am enthralled*
I have so heartily set my mind
It is my joy to call on them.
For love has laid me on the rack
It seems it has, indeed.
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4. |
Lucente Stella
03:20
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Lucente Stella
Che’l mio cor desfai
Con novo guardo che move d’amore,
Açi pietà de quel che per ti more.
I ati toi dolce prometon salute
A chi se spechia nello tor bel viso
E bei ochi toi ladri e il vago riso
Furan mia vita per la lor vertute
Merci mostrando, de le mie ferute.
Ma poi pur provoche lo to valore,
Cum crudeltate struçe lo mio core.
--
Shining star
Undoing of my heart
If love moves you to look upon me anew
Take pity on one who dies for you.
To him who gazes at your lovely face
Your sweet demeanour promises salvation
Your thieving eyes and your appealing smile
Have the power to hone and refine my life
Showing compassion for my grievous wounds
And yet I feel in the end that your worth
Is cruelly destroying my heart.
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5. |
Bryd one Brere
02:46
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Medieval English:
Bryd one brere, brid, brid one brere
Kynd is come of love, love to crave
Blythful biryd on me thu rewe
Or greyth, lef, greith thu me my grave.
Hic am so blithe, so bryhit, bryd on brere
Quan I se that hende in halle
Yhe is whit of lime, lovely, trewe
Yhe is fayr and flur of alle.
Mikte ic hire at wille haven
Stedefast of love, lovely, trewe
Of mi sorwe yhe may me saven
Ioye and blisse were ere me newe.
--
Bird on a briar, bird, bird on a briar
Mankind is born of love, to crave
Blissful bird, take pity on me
Or dig, love, dig for me my grave.
I am so blithe, so bright, bird on a briar
When I see that maiden in the all
She is white of limb, lovely, true
She is fair and flower of all.
Might I her at my will have
Steadfast of love, lovely, true
Of my sorrow she may me save
Joy and bliss would wear me new.
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6. |
Puis Qu'en Oubli
02:04
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Medieval French:
Puis qu’en oubli sui de vous, dous amis
Vie amoureuse et joie
À Dieu commant
Mar vi le jour que m’amour en vous mis,
Puis qu’em oubli sui de vous dous amis
Mais ce tenray que je vous ay promis
C’est que jamais n’aray nul autre amant.
Puis qu’en oubli sui de vous, dous amis
Vie amoureuse et joie
À Dieu commant
--
Since I am now forgot by you sweet friend
To the amorous and joyful life
I bid farewell.
Ill was the day, love put me in your thoughts
Since I am now forgot by you sweet friend
But this I will keep which to you I promised
That is, that never will I have another lover
Since I am now forgot by you sweet friend
To the amorous and joyful life
I bid farewell.
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7. |
Je Vivroie Liement
02:28
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Medieval French:
Je vivroie liement, douce creature
Se vous saviés vraiement
Qu’en vous fust parfaitement
Ma cure.
Dame de meintieng joli,
Plaisant, nette et pure
Souvent me fait dire: “aymi!”
Li maus que j’endure.
Pour vous servirs loyauement
Ey soiés seűre
Que je ne pui nullement
Vivre einsi se longuement
Me dure.
Refrain
Car vous m’estes sans mercy
Et sans pité dure
Et s’avés le cuer de mi
Mis en tel ardure
Qu’il morra certeinnement
De mort trop obscure
Se pour son aligement
Merci n’est procheinnement, meűre.
--
I should lead a happy life, sweet creature
If only you truly realised
That you were the cause of all my concern.
Lady of cheerful bearing
Pleasing, bright and pure
Often I am caused to say: “ah me!”
The woe I suffer.
For serving you loyally
And be certain
That I can no longer wisely
Live thus, if it continues.
For you have no mercy on me
And are without pity
And have put such longing
into my heart
That it will certainly die
A dismal death
Unless for its relief
Your mercy is soon.
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Katherine Christie Evans Birmingham, UK
I'm a soprano, a songwriter and instrumentalist hailing from Romford, Essex.
Somebody had to.
I currently live in Birmingham
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