from Vol. #6, Fall 2015
translated by C. E. Whitehead

A Song, a Dawn-Song, and a Tenso
from the Occitan of Giraut de Bornelh

From the vida:

Girautz de Borneill si fo de Limozi, de l'encontrada d'Esiduoill, d'un ric castel del viscomte de Lemoges. E fo hom de bas afar, mas savis hom fo de letras e de sen natural. E fo meiller trobaire que negus d'aquels qu'eron estat denan ni foron apres lui; per que fo apellatz maestre dels trobadors, et es ancar per toz aquels que ben entendon subtils ditz ni ben pauzatz d'amor ni de sen. Fort fo honratz per los valenz homes e per los entendenz e per las dompnas qu'entendian los sieus maestrals ditz de las soas chansos. E la soa vida si era aitals que tot l'invern estava en escola et aprendia letras, e tota la estat anava per cortz e menava ab se dos cantadors que cantavon las soas chansos. Non volc mais muiller, e tot so qu'el gazaingnava dava a sos paubres parenz et a la eglesia de la villa on el nasquet, la quals glesia avia nom, et a ancaras, Saint Gervas. Et aici son escritas gran ren de las soas chansos.

"Giraut de Bornelh [1165-1200/1212?] was from the Limousin, from the country of Excideuil, from a well-to-do chateau belonging to the Vicecount of Limoges. And he was a man of low station, but was learned in letters and natural sciences. And he was the best trobador there was of those that were before or will be after him, which is why he was was called master of the trobadors. And he is still so among all those who understand subtle and well-put words of love and wit. He was honored much among men of merit, and by those with sense, and by the ladies who heard the masterly words of his songs. And his life was such that all winter long he was in school and learned (or taught) letters, and all summer he traveled through the [various] courts, bringing with him two singers who sang his songs. He never wished to marry, and all he earned he gave to his poor parents/relatives and to the church of the village where he was born, which had a name, and does yet-Saint Gervais. And there they wrote great things of his songs."

Some today say that Giraut de Bornelh was not much of a composer; however, he was revered in his own time. - CEW

Canso: “Leu chansonet’e vil”

This light and lively song I will make up with my hands, song I will then send on to the Dalfi in Alverne, but if Sir Eblon comes upon it, on that straight road, the song will tell him plain what I say: to make a work clear is much more a feat than to make it obscure. He scarely thinks to buff his knife on soft sable, who will not let it touch tough stone. For God made, for supper, not water from wine, but instead, from the water that was, He made wine, for better communion. And who, within his fortress- where no man can be forced- boasts of his help, but proffers only laughter, would profit from self-rebuke. And who pays his creditors with mere gabber can ask not one thing now from God, could not before, cannot after. I never blame the subtle man, he who distinguishes what's best; nor does the strong repel me; but a weak man makes me flee- it is too much to carry him-who-cannot-discern song from cant- how can a man begin otherwise? Now, if a man gets his man to raise himself in worth, he shows him by the end how a man feels finally- for the wise tell me a half tenso is no tenso. Nor can I praise a man for combat skills or blows- worth hangs on the close. And he who hangs worth on a single stitch, as if it were lonely, bitter, will be wroth when the thread is severed: how then is that stitch closed? Who has little in a net?- not the greedy rich. Let us also improve, rectify pomp and worth for them, and joy, which they make cease. But there is one in a thousand I dare not name lest I blame the righteous' brooding which today, from dusk to light, has improved no thing- in the one I don't name. One cannot explain such rumble. Not now after supper, nor after slumber. Now, in humility, I turn to my find and precious lord- I cannot now sing more- save that love finished me. Ay! no worse assassin could slay me so, so that now I have no rest, but only fret, and even my song must soon go. And now I send this on to my Lord-above-all and say, that the greatest fault is hers if she makes me fail.

Leu chansonet'e vil M'auri'a obs a far Que pogues enviar En Alvernh'al Dalfi. Pero, s'el drech chami Pogues n'Eblon trobar, Be.lh poiria mandar Qu'eu dic qu'en l'escurzir Non es l'afans, Mas en l'obr'esclarzir. E qui de fort fozil No vol coltel tocar, Ja no.l cut afilar En un mol sembeli! Car ges aiga de vi No fetz Deus al manjar, Ans se volc esalzar E fetz esdevenir D'aiga qu'er'ans Pois vi per melhs grazir. E qui dins so cortil, On om no.l pot forsar, Se vana d'aiudar, Pois no fai, mas qu'en ri, Pro a de que.s chasti, E qui de sol gabar Vol sos clameus paiar, Ja Deus re can dezir Noca l'enans Ni li lais avenir. Per qu'eu d'ome sotil Que sap so melhs triar No.m met a chastiar Ni fort no.m n'atai! Mas un pauc me desvi, Car non o posc mudar- Tan m'es greu a portar- Qui no sap eissernir Cans d'entre tans Ni cui com al partir. E si.lh fach son gentil A la valor levar, Aissi.s fan a guidar C'om s'en sen, a la fi! Que lo savis me di Que ges al mech tensar No dei ome lauzar Per so ben escremir Ni per colps grans, Que.l pretz pen al fenir. E qui ja per un fil Pen pretz, c'om sol amar, Greu poira pois trobar, Si.s romp, qui ferm lo li! C'a pauc en un trai No son li ric avar, C'aissi, co.s degr'alzar Per els e revenir Pretz e bobans E jois, l'en fan fugir. Mas eu tri un de mil, Pero no l'aus nomnar Per paor d'encuzar Que.lh dreisses lo coissi! C'oi del ser al mati No pot re melhurar Ni ja apres sopar No l'auziretz re dir, Qu'eis lo mazans No n'esch'apres dormir. Era.m torn en umil Vas mo Bel-Senhor char! Ren als no.lh sai comtar Mas que s'amors m'auci. Ai, plus mal assesi Noca.m saup envirar Qu'era no posc pauzar! Ans trebalh e consir Si que mos chans Es ja pres del delir. E deuria.l mandar Mo Sobre-Totz e dir Que.l maier dans Er seus, si.m fai falhir.

Alba: “Reis glorios”

Shining King, brilliance, light, powerful God, Sir: my friend- I've not seen her all night Help her, if you like.    It's near daybreak! Precious friend, sleeping or awake, stop sleep, watch- in the east, the believed-in star that brings day that I know well.    Daybreak is soon! Precious friend, whose name I sing out- stop sleep: I hear bird's song seek day through field and wood; I fear the jealous will be on you.    It's near dawn! Precious friend, get to the window, catch the view-the sky's stars! if you know their changeless meaning, but if not, you've not done wrong.    It's near dawn! Precious friend, since I left you, I've not slept, have only kneeled, prayed to God, blessed Mary's son, who has given me you, fine friend.    It's near dawn! Precious friend, on the stoop, you wooed me-I slept never- but watched all night till day- now let my song and melody give pleasure!    Day comes on! Lovely, lovely friend, so rich my stay, I seek no more daybreak nor day- a brighter gem chased from the sea I hold, embrace now, hardly heed    the jealous fool, the dawn.

Reis glorios, verais lums e clartatz, Deus poderos, Senher, si a vos platz, al meu companh siats fizels ajuda; qu'eu no lo vi, pos la nochs fo venguda,    et ades sera l'alba! Bel companho, si dormetz o velhatz, no dormatz plus, suau vos ressidatz; qu'en orien vei l'estela creguda c'amena.l jorn, qu'eu l'ai ben conoguda,    et ades sera l'alba! Bel companho, en chantan vos apel; no dormatz plus, qu'eu auch chantar l'auzel que vai querren lo jorn per los boschatge, et ai paor que.l gilos vos assatge,    et ades sera l'alba! Bel companho, issetz al fenestral e regardatz las estelas del cel! Conoisseretz si.us sui fizels messatge; si non o faitz, vostres n'er lo damnatge,    et ades sera l'alba! Bel companho, pos me parti de vos, eu no.m dorm ni.m moc de genolhos, ans preiei Deu, lo filh Santa Maria, que.us me rendes per leial companhia,    et ades sera l'alba! Bel companho, la foras als peiros me preiavatz qu'eu no fos dormilhos, enans velhes tota noch tro al dia. Era no.us platz mos chans ni ma paria,    et ades sera l'alba! Bel dous companh, tan sui en ric sojorn qu'eu no volgra mais fos alba ni jorn, car la gensor que anc nasques de maire tenc et abras, per qu'e non prezi gaire    lo fol gilos ni l'alba!

Tenso: “Si•us quer conselh, bel’ ami’ Alamanda”

Giraut de Bornelh loved a Gascon lady by the name Alamanda d'Estanc . . . For a long time he [Giraut] beseeched her, and she, with fine words and honors and promises, sparred courteously with him, but never gave him love nor any joy but once her glove, by which he lived a long while in happiness and joy; but then he had many sorrows, when he lost it; my lady Alamanda, when . . . she knew that he had lost the glove, accused him of treachery [of underhanded dealing, of the glove] . . . . When Giraut once more heard her farewell, he came to a lady in her service, who had the name Alamanda, like the lady he loved. The servant lady was wise and courtly and knew how to compose and interpret . . .

-I need your advice, my fair friend, Alamanda,
I'm vexed and humbled, don't turn me down dear.
Your lady has swept me from her command;
what she last told me, the felon,
What she gave me, has left me scorned and upended.
   What can you suggest?
So hot is my heart's raging
   that I'll soon be branded.-

-Giraut, for God, back off at once here!
You can't force a friend's will, can't command it-
When a friend slips, best court error with favor,
lest both friends be unmanned, dear-
so if she tells of a mountain that will be leveled land soon,
   you will know it for truth,
will be glad for the bad with the good that she sends you,
   and so will have love.-

-I have to say it's pride I'm damning,
although you be lovely, miss, your hair flaxen,
a bit of dismay makes you dismal; a bit of joy gladdens,
and still you are not his first passion-
And me, abhorring this dispiritedness where I flounder,
   how would you school me?
With me engulfed in the wave, you would drag me down under?
   I regret how you thus rule me!-

-You make so deep an inquest with this exchange of verse,
my God Giraut, I don't know the rejoinder,
but weren't you satisfied with what was quite spartan?
However, I should tend my own field before it's plundered:
indeed it's the lady's will to arrange something,
   but you must will it!-
must want to know how her dear heart has fled your own,
   you're reeling!-

-Miss, can you be now so chatty?!
The lady's lied to me a hundred times already,
do you think I'll stand her lies forever?
It seems to me she seeks another,
that's her reason-and I may seek other counsel too,
   if you can't hush!
Lady Berengera's advice is more worthy
   than your pratter.-

-Now I see that she's repaying you,
for saying she's inconstant, fickle;
how could she seek arrangement?
There seems no way here.
yesterday's promise has left you forever,
   whatever you say, {as Rosenberg, Switten, Le Vot get this right},
will she so turn upside down? She make you an offer?
   She come to peace or an end now?

-For God, lovely miss, don't stop your assistance:
you know well how I entered such arrangement.
So if I've erred due to ire within,
let it not do me in; if ever you have loved, friend,
ever felt the heart's quick changes,
   think up some new compact;
I must tell you that I die if she is taken,
   but don't let her know that!-

-Mr. Giraut, I've wanted something that binds here,
but she tells me that she rightly takes feels maligned, Dear,
that you, in front of all, fool, sought another,
that you prize her neither dressed nor in bare skin.
Will you not do so then, not seek another lord,
   lest, deposed so, she discard you?
Indeed I will help you with a deal, as now I guard her
   if you won't quarrel over it too.-

-Lovely Miss, for God!, if the lady has faith in you,
   in faith, have her take me back!-

-That I will do; but when her love,
   is back with you, don't rob yourself of that!-

Giraut de Borneil si amava una dompna de Gascoina qe avia nom N'alamanda d'Estanc, . . . Lonc temps la preget; et ella, com bels ditz e com bels honramenz e com bellas promissions, se defender de luis corteizamen, qe anc no.il fetz d'amor ni.l det nuilla joia, mas un son gan, dont el visqet long temps gais e joios; e pueis n'ac mantas tristessas, qant l'ac perdut; que ma domna N'Alamanda-qan . . . saub q'el avia perdut lo gan-, ella l'encuset del gan . . . . Qant Girautz ausi la novella ocasion e.l comjat qe la domna li dava, mout fo dolens e tristz, e venc s'en ad una donzella qu'ell avia, que avia nom Alamanda, si com la domna. La doncella si era mout savia e cortesa, e sabia trobar ben et entendre . . .

Si.us quer conselh, bel' ami' Alamanda,
No.l me vedetz, c'om cochatz lo.s demanda;
Que so m'a dich vostra domna truanda
Que lonh sui fors issitz de sa comanda
Que so que.m det m'estrai er' e.me desmanda.
   Que.m conselhatz?
C'a pauc lo cor dins d'ira no m'abranda,
   Tan fort en sui iratz'-

Per Deu, Giraut, ges aissi tot a randa
Volers d'amic no.s fai ni no.s garanda;
Car si l'us falh, l'altre conve que blanda,
Que lor destrics no crescha ni s'espanda.
Pero si.us ditz d'alt poi que sia landa,
   Vos la.n crezatz,
E plassa vos lo bes e.l mals que.us manda;
   C'aissi seretz amatz.-

No posc mudar que contr' orgolh no gronda,
Ja siatz vos, donzela, bel' e blonda.
Pauc d'ira.us notz e paucs jois vos aonda;
Mas ges n'etz primera ni segonda!
Et eu que tem d'est'ira que.m confonda,
   Qe m'en lauzatz,
Si.m tem perir, que.'m traia plus vas l'onda?
   Mal cut que.m chabdelatz!-

Si m'enqueretz d'aital razo preonda,
Per Deu, Giraut, no sai com vos responda;
Pero, si.us par c'ab pauc fos jauzionda,-
Mais volh pelar mo prat c'altre. me tonda.
E s'e.us er'oi del plach far dezironda,
   Ja l'encerchatz
Com so bo cor vos esdui' e.us resconda;
   Be par com n'etz cochatz!-

Donzel, oimais no siatz trop parlera!
S'ilh m'a mentit mais de cen vetz primera,
Cudatz vos donc que totztems l'o sofera?
Semblaria c'o fezes per nescera
D'altr' amistat-er' ai talan que.us fera,
   Si no.chalatz!
Melhor conselh dera na Berengera
   Que vos no me donatz.-

L'ora vei eu, Giraut, qu'ela.us o mera,
Car l'apeletz chamjairitz ni leugera;
Per so cudatz que del plach vos enquera?
Mas no cut ges que sia tan manera;
Ans er oimais sa promessa derrera,
   Que que.us diatz,
Si s'en destrenh tan que ja vos ofera
   treva ni fi ni patz.-

Bela, per Deu, no perda vostr' aiuda,
Car be sabetz com me fo convenguda.
S'eu m'ai falhit per l'ira c'ai aguda,
No.m tenha dan; s'anc sentitz com leu muda
Cor d'amador, ami', e s'anc fotz druda,
   Del plach pensatz;
Que be vos dic: Mortz sui, si l'ai perduda,
   Mas no l'o descobratz!-

Senher Giraut, ja n'agr'eu fi volguda,
Mas ela.m ditz c'a drech ses irascuda,
C'altre.n preietz, com fols, tot a saubuda,
Que no la val, ni vestida ni nuda.
No fara donc, si no.us gic, que vencuda
   S'altre.n preiatz?
Be.us en valrai, ja l'ai' eu mantenguda,
   Si mais no.us i mesclatz.-

Bela, per Deu, si d'ela n'etz crezuda,
   per me lo.lh afiatz!-

Ben o farai; mas can vos er renduda
   S'amors, no la.us tolhatz!

Notes

Regarding punctuation: In Old Occitan, the symbol · was sometimes used to denote elisions, as an apostrophe does in modern usage.

Vida:

Source: R. T. Hill and T. G. Bergin, with the collaboration of S. Olson, W. D. Paden, Jr., and N. Smith (1973), Anthology of the Provençal Troubadours I (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press): 66.

bas afar: According to Levy, afar can mean "business" or "condition", "station." Here is probably means the latter.

[e]t aici son escritas gran ren de las soas chansos: Literally, "and there there are written [a] great thing of his songs."

"Leu chansonet’e vil":

Manuscript source: Ruth Verity Sharman (1980), The Cansos and Sirventes of the Troubadour Giraut de Borneil: a Critical Edition (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press): 283-8; also trobar.org. An excellent version of this is available at youtube.com, a solo performance with accompaniment by Thomas Binkley. I do feel from watching and listening to this video-though of course we do not have exact information on how this was performed, no mensural notation even-that I am watching a replay of Giraut himself. (Except of course that Dr. Binkley married.)

This is one of the very first poems I worked on as an undergraduate, working from Russel Oberlin’s version of the song, Dr. John Peck having provided me a tape-recorded copy of Oberlin’s trobadors (this cassette was destroyed at the apartment I lived in Los Angeles when I taught there), just before he took off to Zurich. I translated the first stanza and set to work on the second and last. I was working not with Dr. Peck then however, but with Richard Pevear who, without even a glance at the translation I’d started, told me immediately that de Bornelh was 'second-rate’ and that I’d best pick another trobador to translate. So, I did! I waited many years before going back to de Bornelh at last-and I’m glad I did, as he suits my own tastes at least.

Giraut’s entire song resembles a number of what in the seventeenth century were popularly called collections of maxims. There is a clear focus in Giraut’s canso although at times the thoughts seem disjointed. The canso discusses making verse clear, the plain style, which Giraut says here that he prefers to the supposedly more ornate 'close’ style-although elements of this song, the word plays in particular, and some of the alliteration, are remiscent of that more ornate style.

The idea, expressed in the fifth stanza, that worth "hangs on" or "depends on" the end or close, a la fi, has religious elements. I note that, in the Òc, the doctrine of universal salvation at the close of life was sometimes bandied about, perhaps influenced in part by Manichean doctrine-it’s often claimed that gnosticism and Manicheanism influenced Cathar beliefs in the Òc although I am not completely sure to what extent. The most commonly mentioned gospel in trobador verse is that of John, whereas it is the gospel of Paul that is often cited as having been influenced by the Manichaeans; and not everyone in the Òc was a Cathar in any case. In Cathar belief, God came in the spirit, not the flesh, although in the Òc it was generally accepted that Jesus had come and died apparently physically on the cross. Nevertheless, it’s worth noting here that the final distinction at the end of life between the world of light and spirit and the false world was important in Manichaean doctrine.

line 4, En Alvernh’al Dalfi: According to Hill and Bergin, vol. 2, the Dauphin in Auvergne was one of Giraut’s patrons.

line 39, [c]ans d’entre tans: Either cans may mean a "quantity" or a "number" (thus, "a [certain] quantity among so much/all this?"); or else it may mean "croaking," "cant" (thus, "cannot distinguish croaking in all this [song]").

line 44, a la fi: This phrase means "finely" as well as "finally," and this pun is apparently intentional; I have translated the phrase as "finally," a word which at least sounds a bit like "finely." I am unfortunately unable to replicate the original pun on "finely"; "how a man feels, finishing" I did not like. An alternative I considered is "at the close," which I have used elsewhere.

line 54, qui ferm lo li: In this line, Giraut asked, if it [the thread] breaks, who closes lo li, ("the these?," with lo and li both definite articles in the oblique case, but the first singular and the second plural; an alternate reading would have, who closes "it to it," with lo oblique case and li dative. Is li meant to sound like leu, which refers to the "elevated" or "light" [style of verse]? In any case, ferm lo li may refer to trobar clus, "the closed style," which Giraut, his own love for puns and ornateness aside, is saying perhaps cannot be closed.

lines 56-60, [n]o son li ric avar/ . . . [p]retz e bobans/[e] jois, l’en fan fugir: Is it li ric avar, "the greedy rich," who l’en fan fugir, "make them [the joy, etc.] fly from them [the rich]?" This is my interpretation.

line 61, eu tri un de mil: Both Sharman and trobar.org read this line thus; some read it as entri un de mil, "among one in a thousand."

line 64, [q]ue·lh dreisses lo coissi: Sharman reads this line as "that he puffs/rights the pillow;" Sharman assumes apparently that Giraut is referring to himself in the third person, as lh "he" (however, I would have expected il or ilh, and not lh, for "he"). It’s possible I think to read lh dreisses as a noun phrase, "the righteous," who "troubled over" or "fussed over" "him." (Giraut may well be referring to a "her" here, but the text does not indicate in any way that this is a "she"-in the phrase in line 61, un de mil, un, "one," is of course masculine, just as the pronoun lo is in this line. Thus all pronouns are masculine. Masculine pronouns do sometimes refer to females in trobador verse.) In my interpretation, lh dreisses, "the righteous," becomes the reference for [c]’ ("that," "who," "which"), which begins the next line. If dreisses is a verb as Sharman suggests, what is its tense and mood? It must be the imperfect subjunctive, third person singular, and the line must mean, "oh that he should have righted (or straighted or raised) the pillow." This subjunctive does not make sense to me. In any case, in this interpretation, I would assume that "he" then is un de mil the "one in a thousand," the one whom Giraut has chosen, and not Giraut himself.

lines 68-69, [n]o l’auziretz re dir/[q]u’eis lo mazans: I have interpreted mazans as a noun meaning "rumble," "noise," "applause," or "murmur." (The verb mazantar Levy defines as "soupeser," "estimate;" "agiter," "shake up;" or "palper," "throb.") According to Sharman these lines mean "you will not hear a thing said that is [not] the murmur [all over]," that is everything you hear Giraut’s one and a thousand say or do is retold all over the countryside. However, the verb, auziretz, is second person plural future-so it is probably not the "one in a thousand" who "dares" not say anything here, contrary to what Sharman suggests.

line 74, [m]as que s’amors m’auci: [S]’amors is literally "his love" or "her love." I’ve preserved the gender neutrality of this by translating it as "this love;" thus I’ve left undecided the gender of mo Bel-Senhor char, "my precious Lovely-Lord," in line 72, above this. In the line that follows, the phrase, plus mal assesi, "worst assassins," verifies that Giraut is talking probably about a lover, though it’s also of course the name of the Muslim "Assassins" whom the Knights Templar worked with in Syria. (see below).

line 75, plus mal assesi: Literally, "the worst assassin/s." Childress (cf. http://www.bibliotecapleyades.net/....) cites Arkon Daraul as describing the Persian order of assassins as having definitely been in alliance with the Knights Templar. The latter enjoyed widespread support in the Òc.

line 82, mo Sobre-totz: Literally, "my Lord-above-all." Senher Sobre-totz was Giraut’s senhal for one of his patrons, according to R. V. Sharman (pp.6-8). In my translation however I assume that this phrase, along with mo bel senher cha r in the preceding stanza, refers to a lady; however senher, "lord," "master," is masculine, and some have interpreted mo Sobre-totz as a masculine overlord. I initially considered this possibility; Giraut however seems not to distinguish much between the two lords here, one his Bel-senher char, "precious Lovely-lord," and one his Sobre-totz, "lord-above-all." To me, the line remains ambiguous and may be taken I think either as referring to a dear friend, or an over-lord, or even God. Compare this flexible meaning to the term, dons, often translated as "my lady," but which Bogin observes is actually more a masculine term, "lord," these terms have a somewhat flexible gender.

line 84: The alliteration on "fault" and "fail" in my translation is an attempt to echo the original alliteration in the phrase, fai falhir.

"Reis glorios, verais lums e clartatz":

Manuscript source: Hill, R. T., and Bergin, T. G., Anthology of the Provençal Troubadours, vol I, 2nd ed., revised by T.G. Bergin et al. (New Haven/London, CT: Yale University): 69-70. A nice performance can be found at youtube.com, video by Capella de Ministrers/Carles Magraner.

In this "Alba" I like best the penultimate stanza. My preferences may show in my translation.

line 23, lo filh Santa Maria: Another Arabic syntactic structure is the idaafa -which seems to surface in lo filh Santa Maria, literally, "the son Blessed Mary," which is best translated as "the son of Blessed Mary," or "Blessed Mary’s son.” In Arabic the construction is perfectly grammatical; in Occitan both constructions with de ("of") omitted and with de intact occur.

line 29, [e]ra no·us platz mos chans ni ma paria: Literally, "now let my song and company be pleasing." I have interpreted paria however as "accompaniment", perhaps to the song.

"Si·us quer conselh, bel’ ami’ Alamanda":

Manuscript source: Hill, R. T., and Bergin, T. G., Anthology of the Provençal Troubadours, vol I, 2nd ed., revised by T.G. Bergin et al. (New Haven/London, CT: Yale University): 70-72. A decent performance is available at youtube.com.

The tenso consists of eight full-stanzas and two short coblas or "couplets.” The full stanzas are of eight lines each, with all but two of these lines eleven or twelve syllables in length, and ending in the same feminine (falling, two-syllable) rhyme; the other two lines in each stanza are shorter-the first is four syllables, the second six. These also rhyme (in masculine one-syllable rhymes; the final rhyming syllable in each case is stressed). The rhyme scheme for each stanza is AAAAABAB, with the masculine rhymes identical in all stanzas. The coblas consist of two lines each, with a long followed by a shorter line, and the first line continuing the rhyme of the previous stanza, the second having the B rhyme that links the entire tenso.

The focus on the lover who does not properly value (val) his lady, and is unfaithful, on false orgolh, and on the contract between lovers, echoes La Comtessa de Dia’s "A chantar m’er de so qu’ieu no volria.” Alamanda’s phrase in the poem, ni vestida ni nuda (line 58), echoes similar words in still another of the Comtessa’s poems, "Estat ai en greu cossirier.” The Comtessa’s song "A chantar m’er . . . " consists itself of five seven-line stanzas, followed by a single cobla or couplet. All seven lines in each stanza are full-length lines of eleven syllables, with a rhyme scheme similar to that of Giraut’s and Alamanda’s scheme-the Comtessa’s rhyme scheme is AAAABAB (again the A-rhymes are feminine two-syllable falling rhymes while the B-rhymes are single-syllable stressed rhymes that continue throughout the poem). The rhyme scheme of the final cobla is AB, with the A-rhyme as in Giraut and Alamanda’s tenso continued from the preceding stanza.

Giraut was from the region of Excideuil in the Limousin according to his medieval biographer. R. V. Sharman (p.17) says that this bit of biographical information is probably correct. Giraut traveled during the summers according to the biographer; Sharman thinks this also likely (p.18). Sharman notes that Giraut took part in the third crusade and that, according to his poem "Lo dous chantz", he was at one point near the borders of Castile, Aragon, and Navarre (p.20). The Comtessa de Dia on the other hand was probably from near Valence, Valentinois, or Albon, in the Drône region of what is now France.

Giraut also debated composing in a tenso with Raimbaut d’Aurenga who was connected to both the Comtessa de Dia and Azalais de Porcairages.

The source of the razo is Antonio Sánchez Jiménez, La Literature en la corte de Alfonso VIII de Castilla (University of Salamanca PhD dissertation): 130. See also Pepió, Simó, and Roig’s Trobadors a la península ibèrica (2006), L’Abadia de Montserrat, p.396; online at http://books.google.com/.....

The razo comes from a different manuscript than does my version of the tenso, and thus adheres to slightly different spelling conventions.

razo, donzella: Literally, "miss", "little lady", but its use here and in line eighteen of the tenso to refer to "Alamanda" (in opposition to the term domna in line two, which refers to Alamanda’s lady) seems to suggest that "Amanda" was of lower station, not of the nobility. Most women trobadors, however, belonged to the nobility.

razo, del gan: Literally, "of the glove.” However enga n is defined in Hill and Bergin as "trick" and enganar as "to deceive.”

lines 3-4, [q]ue so m’a dich vostra domna truanda/[q]ue lonh sui fors issitz de sa comanda: I’ve swapped the word order in my translation of these lines. The phrase vostra domna truanda is literally, "your treacherous lady.” Guiraut’s verse here, addressed to his tenso partner Alamanda, suggests that Alamanda was the servant of Giraut’s lady. The exact relationship I’m not certain of. A trobador "Alamanda" is mentioned also by other trobadors. Some have identified her with Alamanda de Castelnau. Ruth Verity Sharman (The Cansos and Sirventes of the Troubadour Giraut de Bornelh: p.18) argues that the razo’s identification of Giraut’s lady (not his tenso partner) as Alamanda d’Estanc (Alamanda d’Estang) is probably fictionalized. Giraut mentions a lady as well in his other poems, for example his bel senher char in "Leu chansonet’e vil" above. S.N. Rosenberg, M. L. Switten, and Gerard Le Vot (2013) acknowledge that Alamanda’s identity is unknown; they suggest that both Alamanda and the lady she served were perhaps members of the Alaman family (see Songs of the Troubadours and Trouvéres: an Anthology of Poems and Melodies, Routledge, p.81). There may have been more than one lady in Giraut’s life, according to R. V. Sharman.

line 20, [m]as ges n’etz primera ni segonda: Literally, "[b]ut you are not at all first or second.” It’s not clear to me whether Giraut means that his partner Alamanda is not her own lover’s first or second choice of lover, or whether he’s addressing in the second person here a general lover, any lover, who is vexed by his or her lover’s ira, gladdened by the lover’s jois, and does not reach first or second place with that lover; Rosenberg, Switten, and Le Vot seem to me to interpet the line this second way. It seems unlikely that Alamanda herself was Giraut’s lover; would Giraut, a man of bas afa r (and no doubt in need of a patron) according to his vida have been interested in his mistress’ donzela Alamanda, except as a "go-between" and fellow trobador to spar with? A possible alternative intepretation of this line is that Giraut saying simply that Alamanda (or even a generic lover) is not the first or second whose spirits are dampened by ira, gladdened by jois, that others have this experience, but I prefer Rosenberg, Switten, and Le Vot’s interpretation of primera ni segonda. That the courtly lover would seek to advance in his (or her) lover’s eyes, to become preferred, however, I am looking for the source on.

line 22, qe m’en lauzatz: Literally, "how/what are you advising/improving/praising me." Rosenberg, Switten, and Le Vot interpret this as a rhetorical question, a way for Giraut to criticize of Alamanda’s advice here.

line 29, [e] s’e·us er’oi del plach far dezironda: Literally, according to Rosenberg, Switten, and Le Vot’s interpretation of this line, "and if [indeed?] I am today desirous to make an arrangment.” Alternately, can the verb er instead be "she is" without a subject pronoun, and the second e, a preposition-conjunction rather than the pronoun "I": "and if/indeed she is in a desirous state to make an arrangement"? This second intepretation agrees with Amanda’s comment in line 43, [p]er so cudatz que del plach vos enquera, "with this do you think she will ask you for a deal?"; so I take the subject of the verb er as "she.” Iit’s Alamanda’s mistress I think that "is desirous" to make a deal; this deviates from Rosenberg, Switten, and Le Vot, who base their translation on Amanda’s comments in line 67.

line 36, [e]r’ ai talan que·us fera: This phrase is a bit problematic; us is an object pronoun (either second person direct or indirect object, or third person plural direct object). But there’s no other object. So is this best rendered, "now I have a desire to do you" or "I have a desire to have lovings"? The following line, si no·us chalatz, suggests that whatever the pronoun, Giraut is addressing Alamanda.

line 43, [p]er so cudatz que del plach vos enquera: I have interpreted this line spoken by Alamanda as a rhetorical question, parallel to Giraut’s [c]udatz vos donc que totztems l’o sofera? at line 35.

line 44, manera: Rosenberg, Switten, and Le Vot take manera as the feminine form of "tame" (Hill and Bergin list the forms mainier, maisnier, maner). It’s similar in appearance to the word maniera or maneira ("way"); it is likely that the first or second of these is the source of the modern word "manners" which evolved in the thirteenth century.

lines 47-48, [s]i s’en destrenh tan que ja vos ofera/[t]reva ni fi ni patz: Is this an exclamation, a rhetorical question, like lines 35 and 43, "she turn herself around so that she offer you/treaty, end, peace"!? Or is it as Rosenberg, Switten, and Le Vot have interpreted it, an "if" clause?

line 59, preietz: This is either the preterite or the subjunctive, probably the preterite.

Sources cited

• Childress, David Hatcher. “The Knights Templar.” Biblioteca Pleyades, no date given. Retrieved from http://www.bibliotecapleyades.net.
• de Bornelh, Giraut. “Poem 48.” Giraut de Bornelh: Complete Works. Retrieved from http://trobar.org.
• Hill, R. T. and T. G. Bergin, with the collaboration of S. Olson, W. D. Paden, Jr., and N. Smith. Anthology of the Provençal Troubadours, Volume I. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1973.
• Jiménez, Antonio Sánchez. La Literature en la corte de Alfonso VIII de Castilla. PhD dissertation. Salamanca, Spain: University of Salamanca, 2001.
• Pepió, Vicente Beltrán, Meritxell Simó, and Elena Roig. Trobadors a la península ibèrica. Barcelona, Spain: L'Abadia de Montserrat, 2006.
• Rosenberg, S.N., M. L. Switten, and Gerard Le Vot. Songs of the Troubadours and Trouvéres: an Anthology of Poems and Melodies. New York: Routledge, 2013.
• Sharman, Ruth Verity. The Cansos and Sirventes of the Troubadour Giraut de Borneil: a Critical Edition. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1980.

CE Whitehead (1957- ) grew up beside Florida’s Banana River. She began writing verse in grade school and, in junior high, after reading a book on the Crusades, decided to translate troubadour verse. In college, she had the privilege of working with the poets John Peck and Richard Pevear and of studying under Dr. M. L. Switten, who devoted much of her teaching career to the Middle Ages. At present, Whitehead is working on a collection of troubadour verse. Her own poetry has appeared in journals including The Cumberland Review, Oyster Boy Review, and Potato Eyes.

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