Tuesday, 21 January 2014

Ballad XI - Christine de Pizan

Command of me, my Lady and my queen,
All thy good pleasure, as I were thy slave,
Which I shall do with glad and humble mien
That whatsoe'er thou wiliest, thou may'st have.

I owe no less

Being bound thereto for so great pleasantness,
More than to other lovers may betide :
For sweeter are thy gifts than all beside.

Thy love delivered me from dule and teen,
All that was needful to my soul it gave :
Is there not here in truth good reason seen
Thy love should rule the heart thy love did save ?

Ah, what mistress

So guerdoneth her servant with largess
Of love's delight? The rest have I denied,
For sweeter are thy gifts than all beside.

Since such a harvest of reward I glean,
Love in my heart hath risen like a wave :
Thy slave am I , as I thy slave have been ,
While life shall last. Ah, damsel bright and brave,

Sweet patroness

Of spirit and strength, and lady of noblesse,
All other comfort doth my heart deride,
For sweeter are thy gifts than all beside.

Most dear princess

Of joy thou art the fount, as I confess :
I thirst no longer, but am satisfied,
For sweeter are thy gifts than all beside.

Christine de Pizan (1364 – c. 1430) Italy

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