5 10 15 20 25 30 35

62. Balade: «Trop plus de biens que penser ne sauroye» Puisqu’Amours veult et lui plaist et agree Que vostre soient du tout entierement M’amour, m’espoir, mon plaisir, ma pensee, Mon cur, ma joye, tout mon esbatement, Je l’en mercy, quar je sçay fermement Que plus grans biens ne me pourroit donner Que de vous faire par moy cherir, doubter, Obeir, craindre, honnorer et servir. Car, en ce faire, je prens plus de plaisir Cent mille fois que se d’une autre avoye, Sans mal avoir, a prendre et a choysir Trop plus de biens que penser ne sauroye. Car la beaulté, l’onneur, la renommee, Le los, le pris, le bel maintenement, Le bien, la grace dont vous estez louee, A mis en moy amour si ardenment Dont je vous ayme, que certez nulement Ne vous ne autre ne le pourroit penser. N’onquez Amours ne me fist endurer, Jusquez a orez, son effort ne souffrir. Mais maintenent bien le m’a fait sentir, Dont j’ay main mal, maiz je le prens en joye Quant c’est pour vous en qui sont, sans mentir, Trop plus de biens que penser ne sauroye. Ne pour douleur qui ja me soit donnee Ne me vendra voulenté ne talant D’autre servir, car mon cuer la devee, Qui tant vous aime, craint et sert loiaulment. Que sy falloit que douloureusement Pour vous servir deust ma vie finer Prouchainnement, ou par une autre amer/nobr> Eusse lez biens dont l’en puet resjoir Ung cuer dolent, cent mille fois mourir Mieulx me plairoit, s’en ce party estoye. Car seulement me puet par vous venir Trop plus de biens que penser ne sauroye.

62. Ballade: “Far more good than I could ever imagine” Since Love wishes it, and it pleases him That they be completely yours in every way — My love, my hope, my pleasure, my thought, My heart, my joy, all of my enjoyment — I thank him, for I firmly know That he could not give me any greater reward Than to make you cherished, dreaded, Obeyed, feared, honored, and served by me. For in doing so, I take more pleasure One hundred thousand times than if I had from another, Without any pain, to take and choose Far more good than I could ever imagine. For the beauty, the honor, the renown, The praise, the worth, the beautiful comportment, The good, the grace, for which you are praised Have set love in me so ardently By which I love you that surely in no way Could you or anyone else imagine it. Nor did love make me ever endure, Till now, or suffer its effects. But now it has made me feel them strongly, For which I have much pain, but I take it in joy When it is for you in whom is, without lying, Far more good than I could ever imagine. Nor for any sorrow that might ever be given me Will come to me the wish or the desire To serve another, for my heart forbids it, Which loves you, fears you, and serves you loyally, So much that if it were necessary that, sadly, My life were to come to an end at once In order to serve you, or that by loving another I might have the rewards with which one can rejoice A sorrowful heart, to die one hundred thousand times Would please me more, if I were in that state. For only from you can come to me Far more good than I could ever imagine.

(t-note)  (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) (t-note)