I will sing my heart a song, comforting myself alone
So though loss is deep and strong, I won't die here on my own
For I see no one returns from the pagan land where came
He who cools and soothes love's burns if I only hear his name
When they sound the battle cry, God protect him carefully
For I fear that he may die. Evil is the enemy.
That is why my heart is sad: he's not here in our hometown
He's the only hope is had; when he's gone I sigh and frown
Since he's fair and I'm highborn, God, why do you treat us so?
Since our vows of love are sworn, why must I stay and him go?
When they sound the battle cry, God protect him carefully
For I fear that he may die. Evil is the enemy.
I will suffer just like this as time passes over me
Here I pray and reminisce; he crusades eternally
We may never meet again, but despite my parents' rules
I will see no other men; those who speak of that are fools.
When they sound the battle cry, God protect him carefully
For I fear that he may die. Evil is the enemy.
I was sorrowful and hurt when I couldn't say goodbye
Now I hold his long-worn shirt that he sent me in reply
When it's dark, and comfort's thin, I pretend it's him for real
Tight against my naked skin, just to ease the pain I feel
When they sound the battle cry, God protect him carefully
For I fear that he may die. Evil is the enemy.
Hope is right and real, I know, for he told me he was mine
And when breezes softly blow from that country, like a sign
Of the man I love so much, then I turn my face to them
And I almost feel his touch underneath my mantle's hem
When they sound the battle cry, God protect him carefully
For I fear that he may die. Evil is the enemy.
- Guiot de Dijon, c. 1220, tr. Carol Anne Perry Lagemann (CC-BY-SA).
This is one of a number of singable translations Lagemann has made of medieval music; this song, "Chanterai por Mon Corage", is a literary troubadour work in which a male songwriter expresses the pain felt by noble women whose lovers went abroad to fight in the Crusades.
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