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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Fair Lady Without Peer by Charles d’Orleans loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Fair Lady, without peer, my plea, Is that your grace will pardon me, Since I implore, on bended knee. No longer can I, privately, Keep this from you: my deep distress, When only you can comfort me, For I consider you my only mistress. This powerful love demands, I fear, That I confess things openly, Since to your service I came here And my helpless eyes were forced to see Such beauty gods and angels cheer, Which brought me joy in such excess That I became your servant, gladly, For I consider you my only mistress. Please grant me this great gift most dear: to be your vassal, willingly. May it please you that, now, year by year, I shall serve you as my only Liege. I bend the knee here—true, sincere— Unfit to beg one royal kiss, Although none other offers cheer, For I consider you my only mistress. Chanson: Let Him Refrain from Loving, Who Can by Charles d’Orleans loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Let him refrain from loving, who can. I can no longer hover. I must become a lover. What will become of me, I know not. Although I’ve heard the distant thought that those who love all suffer, I must become a lover. I can no longer refrain. My heart must risk almost certain pain and trust in Beauty, however distraught. For if a man does not love, then what? Let him refrain from loving, who can. Her Beauty by Charles d’Orleans loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Her beauty, to the world so plain, Still intimately held my heart in thrall And so established her sole reign: She was, of Good, the cascading fountain. Thus of my Love, lost recently, I say, while weeping bitterly: “We cleave to this strange world in vain.” In ages past when angels fell The world grew darker with the stain Of their dear blood, then became hell While poets wept a tearful strain. Yet, to his dark and drear domain Death took his victims, piteously, So that we bards write bitterly: “We cleave to this strange world in vain.” Death comes to claim our angels, all, as well we know, and spares no pain. Over our pleasures, Death casts his pall, Then without joy we “living” remain. Death treats all Love with such disdain! What use is this world? For it seems to me, It has neither Love, nor Pity. Thus “We cleave to this strange world in vain.” Keywords/Tags: Orleans, French, translation, English, fair, lady, peer, grace, distress, love
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