Early French Poetry

By Various

Book Id: WPLBN0002171465
Format Type: PDF eBook:
File Size: 0.2 MB
Reproduction Date: 11/2/2012

Title:	Early French Poetry
Author:	Various
Volume:
Language:	English
Subject:	Fiction, Drama and Literature, French Poetry
Collections:	Authors Community, Poetry
Historic Publication Date:
Publisher:	A. S. Kline

Member Page:	Tony Kline
Citation APA MLA Chicago Various, B. (n.d.). Early French Poetry. Retrieved from http://www.self.gutenberg.org/

Description
A selection of poems from Early France. Including translations of poems by Marie de France, Arnaut Daniel, Bertran de Born, Thibaut IV Roi de Navarre, Guillaume de Machaut, Eustace Deschamps, Christine de Pisan, and Charles d'Orléans.

Table of Contents
Marie de France (Late 12th Century) The Lay of the Honeysuckle Arnaut Daniel (Late 12th Century) I am the one that knows the pain that flows When the pale leaves descend Anonymous Aubes (12th or 13th century) When I see the light of day appear, Between my true love and me, Bertran de Born (c1140-before1215) Lady, since you care not at all Gace Brulé (c1159-c1212) Chanson d’Amour Le Châtelain de Coucy (Guy d.1203) Chanson d’Amour Anonymous Reverdies (12th or 13th Century) In April at Easter Tide Would it please you then if I Guillaume de Loris (fl c. 1240) From: Le Roman de la Rose (First Part) Thibaut IV De Champagne, Roi De Navarre (1201-1252) I can’t prevent myself from singing, ‘Mercy, my lady! One thing I ask you, Love I have served, for such length of time Colin Muset (Mid-13th Century) Sir Count, I’ve been fiddling Guillaume de Machaut (c1300-1377) Of all the fruits and all the flowers The stars could no more be counted by you, I’d rather languish in a strange country, If I love you with true faithful courage If your pride will not humble itself to me Eustace Deschamps (1346-1407) If I travelled the earth and every sea, In Hainaut and Brabant I Who loves well has little peace: If the whole sky were made of beaten gold, Carrion for worms, our poor fragility, Christine de Pisan (1365-1431?) Founts of tears, and rivers of sadness, If I often go to church today, Severe or slight, my heart has felt no wound Ha, the gentlest that there ever was made! Lover I feel such sorrow now you go, All things rejoice this month of May ‘You’re a most welcome sight When I see these lovers true Alas, now! If I were only able Let him attend no more on me, Alain Chartier (1385-1429) From ‘La Belle Dame sans Merci’ Charles d’Orléans (1394-1465) Through the forest of Gloomy Sadness, When I am lying in my bed Soon, if God wills, the shadow The very first day of the month of May In my lost days of childhood I flowered, Ballads, songs and plaintive rhymes Not long ago, in the early morning, The season has cast its cloak away Off with you now, away, away, Would you stop them flowing In my Book of Thought today, The heralds of Summer are here Is she not blessed with every grace, I think little of kisses like these