1996.3 - Chanterai por mon corage (Guiot de Dijon)
Guiot de Dijon, Chanterai por mon corage - French trouvère lyric from the time of the Third Crusade, used in the Director's Cut for Godfrey's flashback as he remembers Balian's mother.
Chanterai por mon corage Que je vueill reconforter, Car avec mon grant damage Ne quier morir n'afoler, Quant de la terre sauvage Ne voi nului retorner Ou cil est qui m'assoage Le cuer, quant j'en oi parler. Dex, quant crieront Outree, Sire, aidies au pelerin Por cui sui espoentee, Car felon sunt Sarrazin.
Soferrai en tel estage Tant quel voie rapasser. Il est en pelerinage, Dont Dex le lait retorner! Et maugre tot mon lignage Ne quier ochoison trover D'autre face mariage; Folz est qui j'en oi parler! Dex, quant crieront Outree, Sire, aidies au pelerin Por cui sui espoentee, Car felon sunt Sarrazin.
De ce sui au cuer dolente Que cil n'est en Biauvoisis Qui si sovent me tormente : Or n'en ai ne gieu ne ris. S'il est biaus, et je sui gente. Sire, Dex, por quel feis? Quant l'uns a l'autre atalente, Por coi nos as departis? Dex, quant crieront Outree, Sire, aidies au pelerin Por cui sui espoentee, Car felon sunt Sarrazin.
De ce sui en bone atente Que je son homage pris, Et quant la douce ore vente Que vient de cel douz pais Ou cil est qui m'atalente, Volontiers i tor mon vis : Adont m'est vis que jel sente Par desoz mon mantel gris. Dex, quant crieront Outree, Sire, aidies au pelerin Por cui sui espoentee, Car felon sunt Sarrazin.
De ce sui mout decue Que ne fui au convoier ; Sa chemise qu'ot vestue M'envoia por embracier : La nuit, quant s'amor m'argue, La met delez moi couchier Mout estroit a ma char nue Por mes malz assoagier Dex, quant crieront Outree, Sire, aidies au pelerin Por cui sui espoentee, Car felon sunt Sarrazin.
"chanson de croissades, XIII? siecle"
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Traduccion en ingles.
I will sing to comfort my heart, For I do not want to die Or go mad from my great loss, When I see that no one returns From that foreign land, Where the man is who Brings solace to my heart When I hear him spoken of. God, When they cry 'Onward' Give Your help to that pilgrim For whom my heart trembles, For the saracens are treacherous. I shall bear my loss Until I have seen a year go by, He is on a pilgrimage; May God grant that he return from it! But, in spite of all my family, I do not intend to marry any other. Anyone who even speaks to me of it Is a fool. God, When they cry 'Onward' Give Your help to that pilgrim For whom my heart trembles, For the saracens are treacherous. However, I am hopeful Because I accepted his homage. And when the sweet wind Blows which comes from that sweet country Where is the man whom I desire, Then I turn my face toward it gladly, And it seems to me that I can feel him Beneath my mantle of fur. God, When they cry 'Onward' Give Your help to that pilgrim For whom my heart trembles, For the saracens are treacherous. I regret very much that I was not there To set him on the road. He sent me his shirt which he had worn, So that I might hold it in my arms. At night, when love for him tormets me, I place it in bed beside me And hold it all night against my bare skin To assuage my pains. God, When they cry 'Onward' Give Your help to that pilgrim For whom my heart trembles, For the saracens are treacherous.