O Fortune,
like the moon
you are changeable,
ever waxing and waning;
hateful life
first oppresses and then soothes
as fancy takes it;
poverty and power
it melts them like ice.
Fate - monstrous and empty,
you whirling wheel,
you are malevolent,
well-being is in vain
and always fades to nothing,
shadowed and veiled
you plague me too;
how through the game
I bring my bare back
to your villainy.
Fate is against me in health
and virtue,
driven on and weighted down,
always enslaved.
So at this hour without delay
pluck the vibrating strings;
since Fate strikes down
the strong man,
everyone weep with me!
I bemoan the wounds of Fortune
with weeping eyes,
for the gifts she made me
she perversely takes away.
It is written in truth,
that she has a fine head of hair,
but, when it comes to seizing
an opportunity,
she is bald.
It is written in truth,
that she has a fine head of hair,
but, when it comes to seizing
an opportunity,
she is bald.
On Fortune's throne
I used to sit raised up,
crowned with the many-coloured
flowers of prosperity;
though I may have flourished
happy and blessed,
now I fall from the peak
deprived of glory.
Though I may have flourished
happy and blessed,
now I fall from the peak
deprived of glory.
The wheel of Fortune turns:
I go down, demeaned;
another is raised up;
far too high up
sits the king at the summit-
let him fear ruin!
For under the axis is written
Queen Hecuba.
Sits the king at the summit-
let him fear ruin!
For under the axis is written
Queen Hecuba.
The merry face of spring
turns to the world,
sharp winter
now flees, vanquished;
bedecked in various colours
Flora reigns,
the harmony of the woods
praises her in song.
Ah...
Lying in Flora's lap
Phoebus once more
smiles, now covered
in many-coloured flowers,
Zephyr breathes nectar-
scented breezes.
Let us rush to compete
for love's prize.
Ah...
In harp-like tones sings
the sweet nightingale,
with many flowers
the joyous meadows are laughing,
a flock of birds rises up
through the pleasant forests,
the chorus of maidens
already promises a thousand joys.
Ah...
The sun warms everything,
pure and gentle,
once again it reveals to the world
April's face,
the soul of man
is urged towards love
and joys are governed
by the boy-god.
All this rebirth
in spring's festivity
and spring's power
bids us to rejoice;
it shows us paths we know well,
and in your springtime
it is true and right
to keep what is yours.
Love me faithfully!
See how I am faithful:
with all my heart
and with all my soul,
I am with you
even when I am far away.
Whoever loves this much
turns on the wheel.
Behold, the pleasant
Behold, the pleasant and longed-for
spring brings back joyfulness,
Behold, the pleasant and longed-for
spring brings back joyfulness,
violet flowers fill the meadows,
the sun brightens everything,
sadness is now at an end! Summer
returns, now withdraw the rigours
of winter. Sadness is now at an end!
Summer returns, now withdraw...
Summer returns, now withdraw
Summer returns, now withdraw
the rigours of winter.
Ah...
Now melts
Now melts and disappears
ice, snow and the rest,
Now melts and disappears
ice, snow and the rest,
winter flees, and now
spring sucks at summer's breast:
A wretched soul is he who does not
live or lust under summer's rule.
A wretched soul is he who does not
live or lust under summer's rule.
Who does not live or lust
who does not live or lust
under summer's rule.
Ah...
They glory
They glory and rejoice
in honeyed sweetness
They glory and rejoice
in honeyed sweetness
who strive to make use of
Cupid's prize;
at Venus' command let us glory
and rejoice in being Paris' equals.
At Venus' command let us glory
and rejoice in being Paris' equals.
Let us glory and rejoice
let us glory and rejoice
in being Paris' equals.
Ah...
The noble woods are burgeoning
The noble woods are burgeoning
with flowers, with flowers...
and...
And leaves.
Leaves, leaves.
Where is the lover
the lover I knew, the lover I knew?
Where is the lover
the lover I knew, the lover I knew,
the lover I knew?
Ah!
He, he, he has ridden off!
He has ridden off! He has ridden off!
He has ridden off!...
Oh...
Oh...
Oh! Who will love me?
Ah...
The woods are burgeoning all over,
The woods are burgeoning all over,
for my lover,
for my lover,
for my lover I am...
lam...
lam pining, I am pining,
lam pining.
The woods are turning green
all over, all over,
why is my lover
away so long, away so long?
Ah...
He, he, he has ridden off,
ridden off, ridden off,
ridden off, ridden off...
Oh woe, oh woe,
oh woe, who will love me?
Ah...
Shopkeeper, give me colour
to make my cheeks red,
so that I can make the young men
love me, against their will.
Look at me, young men!
Let me please you!
Look at me, young men!
Let me please you!
Good men, love
women worthy of love!
Love ennobles your spirit
And gives you honour.
Look at me, young men!
Let me please you!
Look at me, young men!
Let me please you!
Hail, world,
so rich in joys!
I will be obedient to you
because of the pleasures you afford.
Look at me, young men!
Let me please you!
Look at me, young men!
Let me please you!
Those who go round and round
Those who go round and round
are all maidens,
are all maidens,
they want to do without a man
they want to do without a man
all, all, all
all summer long.
Ah! Sla!
Come, come, my love,
I long for you,
I long for you,
come, come, my love.
Sweet rose-red lips,
come and make me better,
come and make me better,
sweet rose-red lips.
Those who go round and round
Those who go round and round
are all maidens,
are all maidens,
they want to do without a man
they want to do without a man
all, all, all,
all summer long.
Ah! Sla!
If all the world were mine
from the sea to the Rhine,
I would do without it
I would do without it
if the Queen of England
of England
would lie...
in my arms.
Hey!
Burning inside with violent anger,
bitterly I speak to my heart:
created from matter,
of the ashes of the elements,
lam like a leaf
played with by the winds.
If it is the way of the wise man
to build foundations on stone, then
lam a fool, like a flowing stream,
which in its course never changes.
I am carried along
like a ship without a steersman,
and in the paths of the air
like a light, hovering bird;
chains cannot hold me,
keys cannot imprison me,
I look for people like me
and join the wretches.
The heaviness of my heart
seems a burden to me;
it is pleasant to joke
and sweeter than honeycomb;
whatever Venus commands
is a sweet duty,
she never dwells
in a lazy heart.
I travel the broad path
as is the way of youth,
I give myself to vice,
unmindful of virtue,
I am eager for
the pleasures of the flesh
more than for salvation,
my soul is dead,
so I shall look after the flesh.
Once
I lived on lakes,
once
I looked beautiful
when a swan
i
Was.
Misery me! Misery me!
Now black
and roasting fiercely!
The servant is turning me
on the spit;
lam burning
fiercely on the pyre:
the steward now serves me up.
Misery me! Misery me!
Now black
and roasting fiercely!
Now on a plate
I lie.
And cannot fly anymore,
bared teeth
I see:
Misery me! Misery me!
Now black
and roasting fiercely!
N---
N---
I am the abbot, the abbot,
The abbot of Cockaigne
and my assembly is one of drinkers,
and I wish to be
in the order of Decius,
and whoever searches me out
at the tavern in the morning,
after Vespers he will leave naked,
and thus stripped of his clothes
thus stripped of his clothes
he will call out:
Woe!
Woe!
Woe!
Woe!
What have you done, vilest Fate?
Woe! Woe! Woe!
The joys of my life
you have taken all away!
Woe! Woe! Woe!
Haha!
When we are in the tavern, we do
not think how we will go to dust,
but we hurry to gamble,
which always makes us sweat.
What happens in the tavern,
where money is host,
you may well ask,
and hear what I say.
You may well ask,
and hear what I say.
Some gamble, some drink,
some behave loosely.
But of those who gamble,
some are stripped bare,
some win their clothes here,
some are dressed in sacks. Here
no-one fears death, but they throw the
dice in the name of Bacchus. Here
no-one fears death, but they throw
the dice in the name of Bacchus.
First of all it is
to the wine-merchant
that the libertines drink,
one for the prisoners,
three for the living,
four for all Christians,
five for the faithful dead,
six for the loose sisters,
seven for the footpads in the wood,
Eight for the errant brethren,
nine for the dispersed monks,
ten for the seamen,
eleven for the squabblers,
twelve for the penitent,
thirteen for the wayfarers.
To the Pope as to the king
they all drink without restraint.
The mistress drinks, and the master,
the soldier drinks, and the priest,
the man drinks, the woman drinks,
the servant drinks with the maid,
the swift man drinks, and the lazy,
the white and the black man drinks,
the settled man, the wanderer drinks,
the stupid and the wise man drinks,
The poor man and the sick man drinks,
the exile drinks, and the stranger,
the boy drinks, the old man drinks,
the bishop drinks, and the deacon,
the sister drinks, and the brother,
the old lady drinks, and the mother,
this man drinks, that man drinks,
a hundred drink, a thousand drink.
Six hundred pennies would hardly
suffice, if everyone
drinks immoderately and
immeasurably.
However much they cheerfully drink
we are the ones whom everyone
scolds,
and thus we are destitute.
May those who slander us be cursed
and may their names not be written
in the book of the righteous.
Lo io io io io io io io io!
IQ!
Cupid flies everywhere
seized by desire.
Young men and women
are rightly coupled.
The girl without a lover
misses out on all pleasures,
she keeps the dark night
hidden
in the depth of her heart;
it is a most bitter fate.
Day, night and everything
is against me,
the chattering of maidens
makes me weep,
and often sigh,
and, most of all, scares me.
O friends, you are making fun of me,
you do not know what you are
saying,
spare me, sorrowful as I am,
great
Is my grief,
advise me at least,
by your
honour.
Your beautiful face,
makes me weep a thousand times,
your heart is of ice.
As a cure,
I would be revived
by a kiss.
A girl stood
in a red tunic;
if anyone touched it,
the tunic rustled.
Eia!
Eia! Eia!
Eia!
A girl stood
like a little rose:
her face was radiant
and her mouth in bloom.
Eia!
Eia! Eia!
Eia!
In my heart
there are many sighs
for your beauty,
which wound me sorely.
Ah!
Mandaliet, mandaliet,
my lover does not come.
Mandaliet, mandaliet,
my lover does not come.
My lover, my lover,
my lover does not come.
Not, not, not...
Your eyes shine
like the rays of the sun,
like the flashing of lightning
which brightens the darkness.
Ah!
Mandaliet, mandaliet,
my lover does not come.
Mandaliet, mandaliet,
my lover does not come.
My lover, my lover,
my lover does not come.
Not, not, not...
May God grant, may the gods grant
what I have in mind:
that I may loose
the chains of her virginity.
Ah!
Mandaliet, mandaliet,
my lover does not come.
Mandaliet, mandaliet,
my lover does not come.
My lover, my lover,
my lover does not come.
Not, not, not...
If a boy with a girl
tarries in a little room,
happy is their coupling.
If a boy with a girl
tarries in a little room,
happy is their coupling.
Love rises up,
and between them
Love rises up,
and between them
prudery is driven away,
an ineffable game begins
in their limbs, arms and lips.
If a boy with a girl
tarries in a little room,
happy is their coupling.
Come, come, O come,
Come, come, O come,
Come, come, O come,
Come, come, O come,
ne me mori, ne me mori
ne me mori facias,
do not let me die,
hyrca, hyrce, hyrca, hyrce,
nazaza, trillirivos!
Beautiful is your face, nazaza!
the gleam of your eye, nazaza!
Your braided hair, nazaza!
what a glorious creature! nazaza!
Redder than the rose, nazaza!
whiter than the lily, nazaza!
Lovelier than all others, nazaza!
I shall always
glory in you!
nazaza! nazaza! nazaza!...
In the wavering balance
of my feelings
set
against each other
lascivious
love
and modesty.
But I choose
what I see,
and submit my neck
to the yoke;
I yield to the
sweet,
sweet yoke.
This is the joyful time,
O, O, O maidens, O maidens,
rejoice with them,
young men! young men!
Oh! Oh! Oh!
lam bursting out all over!
I am burning all over
with first love!
New, new love is what I am dying
of! What I am dying of!...
I am heartened
by my promise, by my promise,
I am downcast
by my refusal, by my refusal
Oh! Oh! Oh!
lam bursting out all over!
I am burning all over
with first love!
New, new love is what I am dying
of! What I am dying of!...
In the winter
man is patient, man is patient,
the breath of spring
makes him lust, makes him lust.
Oh! Oh! Oh!
lam bursting out all over!
I am burning all over
with first love!
New, new love is what I am dying
of! What I am dying of!...
My virginity
makes me frisky, makes me frisky,
my simplicity
holds me back, holds me back.
Oh! Oh! Oh!
lam bursting out all over!
I am burning all over
with first love!
New, new love is what I am dying
of! What I am dying of!...
Come, my mistress,
with, with, with joy, with joy,
come, come, my pretty,
lam, I am, I am dying! I am dying!
Oh! Oh! Oh!
lam bursting out all over!
I am burning all over
with first love!
New, new love is what I am dying
of! What I am dying of!...
Sweetest one!
Ah!
I give myself to you totally!
Hail, most beautiful one,
precious jewel.
Hail, pride among virgins,
glorious virgin.
Hail, light of the world,
Hail, rose of the world,
Blanchefleur and Helen,
Blanchefleur and Helen,
Venus, Venus,
noble Venus!
O Fortune,
like the moon
you are changeable,
ever waxing and waning;
hateful life
first oppresses and then soothes
as fancy takes it;
poverty and power
it melts them like ice.
Fate - monstrous and empty,
you whirling wheel,
you are malevolent,
well-being is in vain
and always fades to nothing,
shadowed and veiled
you plague me too;
how through the game
I bring my bare back
to your villainy.
Fate is against me in health
and virtue,
driven on and weighted down,
always enslaved.
So at this hour without delay
pluck the vibrating strings;
since Fate strikes down
the strong man,
everyone weep with me!
Untertitel: VICOMEDIA 4/2001