5 10 15 20

24. Balade: «Car je languis en trop dure tristour» A doulx pais que je n’ose nommer, Ou maint mon cuer et toute ma fiance, Et riens ne scet celle qui demourer Luy fait toudiz, dont si dure grevance M’en fault souffrir, que se n’ay allegence Aucunement luy dire ma doulour, Jamais n’atens en moy avoir plaisance, Car je languis en trop dure tristour. Et s’il advient que lui puisse compter Comment je l’aims de toute ma puissance, En ung seul mot me pourra bien donner Ou bien ou mal, l’un des deux sans doubtance. Mais tant me doubt d’avoir l’ung sans faillance, Que je ne cesse de crier nuit et jour, «Mercy, m’amour, ma doulce bienvaillance,» Car je languis en trop dure tristour. Tant suis dolent, ne sçay quel part tourner, Si que je pers maniere et contenance. Quant je pence qu’il me fault eslongner Sa grant beaulté qui est ma soustenance, Si tristres suis que je n’ay esperance De recouvrer ne joye ne baudour. Desespoir fait en moy sa demourance,

24. Ballade: “For I languish in too harsh a sadness” In a sweet country that I dare not name Where remains my heart and all of my commitment — And nothing does she know who causes it To dwell there always, for which so harsh a pain I am forced to suffer that if I don’t have relief To tell her in some way of my sorrow, I never expect to experience any pleasure, For I languish in too harsh a sadness. And if it happens that I could describe to her How I love her with all of my power, With just one word she could well give to me Either good or evil, one of the two, no doubt, But so much do I fear to have only the one, That I do not cease to cry out night and day, “Mercy, my love, my sweet benevolence,” For I languish in too harsh a sadness. So sad am I, I know not where to turn, So that I lose my bearing and composure. When I think that I am forced to separate From her great beauty, which is my sustenance, I am so sad that I have no hope Of recovering either joy or gaiety. Despair takes up its residence in me, For I languish in too harsh a sadness.

(see note)