On a whim this morning, I decided to reeducate myself on the history of medieval troubadours and their songs/poetry of courtly love, fin’amor, and found myself more drawn to their female counterparts, the trobairitz, who trended away from the complex, flowery language of the troubadour (who wrote more in the trobar clus, closed, hermetic style; or trobar ric, technically complex style) and more into what is termed the trobar leu, the “light” or “easy” style, for which the trobairitz were known.
While I have vague recollections of the troubadour poetry from when I last read any around thirty years ago, I felt it was good time as any to refresh that memory in case I might see it differently after such a passage of time. Instead, I think, I found my more true interest in the trobairitz, as I don’t think the material I was reading at the time did much more than make a cursory mention of their works.
Their lyrical poetry may be more to my speed.
One of the lyrical works of Comtessa Beatriz de Dia, a trobairitz, follows. I thought it would of interest to some folks.
“Estat ai en greu cossirier” / “Of late I’ve been in great distress”
English (trans: Leonard Cottrell):
Of late I've been in great distress
about a knight I thought was mine.
I want it known for all of time
that though I loved him to excess,
his pleasure with me I delayed,
and was on that account betrayed!
It makes me wild: my mind can't rest
whether I'm in bed or dressed.
I'd like it well if I caressed
him with my naked arms. He'd get
excited if I merely let
him feel the softness of my breast;
and he'd delight me even more
than Floris once did Blanchaflor!
I'd offer him my every part,
my mind, my senses, and my heart.
When, my gallant handsome friend—
when shall I have you in my power?
I'll lie beside you and my tender
kiss will bring your love to flower.
I would be greatly comforted
to have you in my husband's stead,
but only if you swear to do
everything I wish you to!
Original (in Occitan):
Estat ai en greu cossirier
per un cavallier qu'ai agut,
e vuoil sia totz temps saubut
cum ieu l'ai amat a sobrier;
ara vei qu'ieu sui trahida
car ieu non li donei m'amor
don ai estat en gran error
en lieig e quand sui vestida.
Ben volria mon cavallier
tener un ser en mos bratz nut,
qu'el s'en tengra per ereubut
sol qu'a lui fezes cosseillier;
car plus m'en sui abellida
no fetz Floris de Blanchaflor:
ieu l'autrei mon cor e m'amor
mon sen, mos huoillis e ma vida.
Bels amics avinens e bos,
cora.us tenrai en mon poder?
e que jagues ab vos un ser
e qu'ie.us des un bais amoros;
sapchatz, gran talen n'auria
qu'ie.us tengues en luoc del marit,
ab so que m'aguessetz plevit
de far tot so qu qu'ieu volria.

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