PER UN AMOR TAN TENDRE
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TOTS ELS QUE ESTEU AQUÍ TENIU UNA CAPACITAT MOLT GRAN
CAPACITAT DE SEFUIR PER LA PARAULA
DONC FE
COMENCARÉ COM A EN LES SEVES CONFERENCIES I RECOLLIT EN LES EXPOSICIÓN SOBRE EL NOSTRE CASTELL DE SANT JAUME
LECTURA DE PEDEMONTE
L' ACTE D' AVUI DUES PARTS HO INTENTAREM
LA PRIMERA EN J M ESPADALER ENS ACOOSTARÁ AL TEMPS DE RV
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ACOSTAR PERQUE L OBRA ESTÁ ESCRITA EN OCCITÁ
I A L' IGUAL QUE LAFLAMENCA I JAUFRÉ OBRES MEDIEVALS ESCRITES EN OCCITÁ EL PROFESSOR LES HA TRADUIT PERQUE LES POGUEM FER NOSTRES MILLOR COM QUAN VOLEM SABER QUÉ CARAY DIUEN ELS BEATHELS O
EN ELS PRECS I POESIA FAREM L' APERIUS PLE DE POESIA I DE PRECAS
PROFESSOR ENDAVANT
ABANS I ARA DELS TROBADORS
CITA DE TAMÓN VIDAL
LES BARQUES DEL MANUEL RIVAS AUTOR DE POESÍA TOBADOR I JOGLAR L' HEVIST COM SE LE HA VISTO JUGLAR
LLIERTAT CAREGADES DE PARAULES LA LLIBETAT LA REBELDIA Y LA MARAVILLA
NO SÉ QUINA E M' AGRADA MÉS PER PER OMPLIRLA DE PARAULES
EL ÚLTIMO DIA DE TERRANOVA
PROFESSOR ENDAVANT
AGRAIR LA FORÇA I PACIÈNCIA DEL B PER DONAR FORMA DEFINITIVA A ESTO
ABANS I ARA ELS TROBADOR TROBEN I JOGLAR
....
PAUTA PER SEGONA PART
MARCAR LES INTERVENCIONS
NO HI A EN LA MAJORIA DE CONFES I COSTA DE
VAIG A LA DIRECTA
MILLOR IMPROVISAR A PUESTO PERO PREPARAT AM ANTELACIÓ
IMM
JOR
CAS
MAR
ACABAR M
PERE VIDAL DE BESALÚ TROBADOR NO
PEIRE SII:
Mout es bona terr'Espanha
E.l rei, qui senhor en so,
Dous e car e franc e bo
E de corteza companha!
E si i a d'autres baros,
Mout avinens e mout pros,
De sen e de conoissensa
E de faitz e de parvensa.
Per que.m platz qu'entr'els remanha
En l'emperial reyo,
Quar ses tota contenso
Mi rete gent e.m gazanha
Reis emperaires N'Anfos,
Per cui Jovens es joyos,
Quez el mon non a valensa,
Que sa valors no la vensa.
Fach ai l'obra de l'aranha
E la muza del Breto!
Per qu'ieu mezeis no sai co
M'en rancur ni m'en complanha,
Que.l ver dir m'es angoissos
E.l mentir no m'es nuls pros:
Daus totas partz truep falhensa
En la sua benvolensa.
Mout m'a tengut en greu lanha,
Quar l'ai servid'en perdo!
E servirs ses gazardo
Crei que chaptals en sofranha!
Que vielhs, paubres, sofrachos,
Venc entre.ls rics, vergoghos:
Per qu'om deu sercar garensa,
Ans que torn en decazensa.
E pus ma dona m'estranha
De so que no.l platz que.m do
S'amor, tart veirai Orgo
Ni.l rial castell d'Albanha.
E ja tan pauc orgulhos
Amic ni tan amoros
Non auran mais part Durensa
En la terra de Proensa.
OTRA
Ges pel temps fer e brau,
Qu'adutz tempiers e vens,
Don torba.ls elemens
E fa.l cel brun e blau,
No.s camja mos talens,
Ans es mos pessamens
En joi et en chantar,
E.m vuelh mais alegrar,
Quan vei la neu sus en l'auta montanha,
Que quan las flors s'espandon per la planha.
Amors e jois m'enclau
Et amezura.m sens,
E beutatz e jovens
M'alegra e m'esjau,
E francs cors gais e gens
M'es de totz mals guirens.
Bel ris e dous esgar
Me fan rir'e jogar,
Cortes solatz mi reten e.m gazanha
E gaugz entiers me toll trebalh e lanha.
Dona, de vos mi lau,
Quar etz douss'e plazens
E la plus avinens
Que negus hom mentau:
Que.l vostr'essenhamens
Vos fai als conoissens
Bendir e tener car
Et a me tant amar,
Que.l cors e.l sens me ditz qu'ap vos remanha,
E si.m faitz mal, qu'ad autra no m'en planha.
De lai on venc ni vau,
Sui vostres bendizens
E sers obediens,
Cum sel qu'ap vos estau,
Per far vostres talens!
E ja.l francs chauzimens
No.m deu oimais tarzar
So que.m fai esperar:
Despos Artus an cobrat en Bretanha,
Non es razos que mais jois mi sofranha.
Quar qui vos ve ni au
Non pot esser dolens
Per negus marrimens.
Ai domna, tan suau
M'apodera e.m vens
Vostra cara rizens,
Que, quan vos aug parlar,
No.n puesc mos huelhs virar.
Tan m'abellis vostra doussa companha
Que d'autra m'es salvaga et estranha.
De lai on creisso.l fau
Mi ven us jauzimens,
Dont sui gais e jauzens,
Qu'onra.l nom de Peitau!
E ja.l fals recrezens,
Cobes mal despendens
No.m poira conquistar
Per soven penchenar.
Sitot si penh ni.s mira ni s'aplanha,
Tot son afar non pretz una castanha.
Que.l cor a flac e cau
Et es menhs que niens!
Que de mil sagramens
No.l creiri'hom d'un clau.
E dolon m'en las dens,
Can parli d'aitals gens!
Per qu'ieu m'o lais estar
D'En Sauc, filh d'Albar,
On malvestatz se sojorna e.s banha,
E sos pretz es aitals cum fils d'aranha.
Al Rei valen e car
Vuelh en mo vers mandar
Que, si sai pert Proensa, pauc gazanha
Pel bel sojorn que pren lai en Espanha.
Fraire, rir'e jogar
Suelh per vos e chantar,
Mas er es dregz que sospir e que planha,
Quar vostr'amors m'es salvag'ez estranha.
Bels Sembelis, per vos am mais Serdanha.
Peire Vidal is referenced in Ezra Pound's poem Pierre Vidal Old
eire Vidal (his name is written at top) as portrayed in a 13th-century chansonnier.
When I but think upon the great dead days
And turn my mind upon that splendid madness,
Lo! I do curse my strength
And blame the sun his gladness;
For that the one is dead
And the red sun mocks my sadness.
Behold me, Vidal, that was fool of fools!
Swift as the king wolf was I and as strong
When tall stags fled me through the alder brakes,
And every jongleur knew me in his song,
And the hounds fled and the deer fled
And none fled over long.
Even the grey pack knew me and knew fear.
God! how the swiftest hind's blood spurted hot
Over the sharpened teeth and purpling lips!
Hot was that hind's blood yet it scorched me not
As did first scorn, then lips of the Penautier!
Aye ye are fools, if ye think time can blot
From Piere Vidal’s remembrance that blue night.
God! but the purple of the sky was deep!
Clear, deep, translucent, so the stars me seemed
Set deep in crystal; and because my sleep
Rare visitor came not, the Saints I guerdon
For that restlessness Piere set to keep
One more fool's vigil with the hollyhocks.
Swift came the Loba, as a branch that's caught,
Torn, green and silent in the swollen Rhone,
Green was her mantle, close, and wrought
Of some thin silk stuff that's scarce stuff at all,
But like a mist wherethrough her white form fought,
And conquered! Ah God! conquered!
Silent my mate came as the night was still.
Speech? Words? Faugh! Who talks of words and love?!
Hot is such love and silent,
Silent as fate is, and as strong until
It faints in taking and in giving all.
Stark, keen, triumphant, till it plays at death.
God! she was white then, splendid as some tomb
High wrought of marble, and the panting breath
Ceased utterly. Well, then I waited, drew,
Half-sheathed, then naked from its saffron sheath
Drew full this dagger that doth tremble here.
Just then she woke and mocked the less keen blade.
Ah God, the Loba! and my only mate!
Was there such flesh made ever and unmade!
God curse the years that turn such women grey!
Behold here Vidal, that was hunted, flayed,
Shamed and yet bowed not and that won at last.
And yet I curse the sun for his red gladness,
I that have known strath, garth, brake, dale,
And every run-away of the wood through that great
madness,
Behold me shrivelled as an old oak's trunk
And made men's mock'ry in my rotten sadness!
No man hath heard the glory of my days:
No man hath dared and won his dare as I:
One night, one body and one welding flame!
What do ye own, ye niggards! that can buy
Such glory of the earth? Or who will win
Such battle-guerdon with his 'prowesse high' ?
O age gone lax! O stunted followers,
That mask at passions and desire desires,
Behold me shrivelled, and your mock of mocks;
And yet I mock you by the mighty fires
That burnt me to this ash.
Ah! Cabaret! Ah Cabaret, thy hills again!
Take your hands off me! . . . [Sniffing the air.
Ha! this scent is hot!
UN TAL ARABIA DE BUENOS AIRES
ORGANIZÓ
EL POETA EN EL MANICOMIO DEL MUNDO ( EN EL CENTRO PSICONALÍTICO ARGENTINO )
IIIII
