 | Poems 1918-21 : |  |
II. II
Avril
WHEN the springtime is sweet
And the birds repeat
Their new song in the leaves,
'Tis meet
A man go where he will.
And the birds repeat
Their new song in the leaves,
'Tis meet
A man go where he will.
But from where my heart is set
No message I get;
My heart all wakes and grieves;
Defeat
Or luck, I must have my fill.
No message I get;
My heart all wakes and grieves;
Defeat
Or luck, I must have my fill.
37
Our love comes out
Like the branch that turns about
On the top of the hawthorne,
With frost and hail at night
Suffers despite
'Till the sun come, and the green leaf on the bough.
Like the branch that turns about
On the top of the hawthorne,
With frost and hail at night
Suffers despite
'Till the sun come, and the green leaf on the bough.
I remember the young day
When we set strife away,
And she gave me such gesning,
Her love and her ring:
God grant I die not by any man's stroke
'Till I have my hand 'neath her cloak.
When we set strife away,
And she gave me such gesning,
Her love and her ring:
God grant I die not by any man's stroke
'Till I have my hand 'neath her cloak.
I care not for their clamour
Who have come between me and my charmer,
For I know how words run loose,
Big talk and little use.
Spoilers of pleasure,
We take their measure.
(Guilhem de Peitieu.)
Who have come between me and my charmer,
For I know how words run loose,
Big talk and little use.
Spoilers of pleasure,
We take their measure.
(Guilhem de Peitieu.)
| Poems 1918-21 : | |