Текст и перевод песни Estampie - Chanterai Por Mon Corage

Chanterai Por Mon Corage

Chanterai por mon corage
Que je vueill reconforter
Car avec mon grant damage
Ne vueill morir n′afoter
Quant de la terre sauvage
Ne voi nului retorner
Ou cil est qui m'assoage
Le cuer, quant j′en oi parler

Dex, quant crieront Outree
Sire, aidiez au pelerin
Por qui sui espoentee
Car felon sunt Sarrazin

Soferrai en tel estage
Tant quel voie rapasser
II est en pelerinage
Dont Dex le lait retorner!
Et maugré tot mon lignage
Ne quier ochoison trover
D'autre face mariage
Folz est qui j'en oi parler!

Dex, quant crieront
Sire, aidiez au pelerin
Por qui sui espoentee
Car felon sunt Sarrazin

De ce sui en bone atente
Queje son homage pris
Et quant la douce ore vente
Qui vient de cel douz païs
Ou cil est qui m′atalente
Volentiers i tor mon vis
Adont m′est vis que jel sente
Par desoz mon mantel gris

Dex, quant crieront
Sire, aidiez au pelerin
Por qui sui espoentee
Car felon sunt Sarrazin

Mout par est fous
Ki s'en vait outre mer
Et prent congie
A sa dame a l′aler

Mout par est fous
Ki s'en vait outre mer
Et prent congie
A sa dame a l′aler

De ce sui mout deceüe
Que ne fui au convoier
Sa chemise qu'ot vestue
M′envoia por embracier
La nuit, quant s'amor m'argue
La met delez moi couchier
Mout estroit a ma char nue
Por mes malz assoagier

Dex, quant crieront
Sire, aidiez au pelerin
Por qui sui espoentee
Car felon sunt Sarrazin

Chanterai Por Mon Corage

I'll sing to lift my spirits
For I wish to seek solace
For with my great sorrow
I won't die nor grow weak
When from the wild lands
I see no one return
Where is he who eases
My heart, when I hear of it?

God, when they cry "Outre"
Sir, help the pilgrim
For whom I am terrified
For the Saracens are fierce

I'll endure in this state
Until I see him return
He is on pilgrimage
May God let him return!
Even against the wishes of my family
I seek no reason to find
A marriage with another
Foolish is he who hears me speak!

God, when they cry
Sir, help the pilgrim
For whom I am terrified
For the Saracens are fierce

In this, I am hopeful
That I may receive his homage
And when the sweet hour comes
That comes from that sweet land
Where he resides, who tempts me
I turn my face there gladly
Then it seems to me that I feel him
Beneath my gray cloak

God, when they cry
Sir, help the pilgrim
For whom I am terrified
For the Saracens are fierce

He is truly mad
Who goes overseas
And takes leave
Of his lady at his departure

He is truly mad
Who goes overseas
And takes leave
Of his lady at his departure

In this, I've been greatly deceived
For I was not there to see him off
His shirt that he wore
He sent to me for an embrace
At night, when his love tortures me
I place it beside me when I lie down
Close to my naked body
To soothe my pain

God, when they cry
Sir, help the pilgrim
For whom I am terrified
For the Saracens are fierce