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De toutes flours n'avoit et de tous fruis En mon vergier fors une seule rose: Gastés estois li surplus et destruis Par Fortune qui durement s'opose Contre ceste douce flour Pour amatir sa coulour et s'odour. Mais se cueillir la voy ou tresbuchier, Autre après li ja mais avoir ne quier. Mais vraiement ymaginer ne puis Que la vertus, où ma rose est enclose, Viengne par toy et par tes faus conduis, Ains est drois dons naturex; si suppose Que tu n'avras ja vigour D'amanrir son pris et sa valour. Lay la moy donc, qu'ailleurs n'en mon vergier Autre après li ja mais avoir ne quier. Hés! Fortune, qui es gouffres et puis Pour engloutir tout homme qui croire ose, Ta fausse loy, où riens de bien ne truis Ne de seür, trop est decevans chose; Ton ris, ta joie, t'onnour Ne sont que plour, tristece et deshonnour. Se ti faus tour font ma rose sechier, Autre après li ja mais avoir ne quier.
Text Authorship:
- by Guillaume de Machaut (c1300 - 1377) [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Guillaume de Machaut (c1300 - 1377), "De toutes flours n'avoit et de tous fruis" [vocal quartet with alternate triplum and counter-tenor], three-voice ballade [text verified 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (David Wyatt) , title 1: "Of all flowers and of all fruits I had none", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 24
Word count: 164
Of all flowers and of all fruits I had none
In my orchard except a single rose;
The rest was spoiled and destroyed
By Fortune who harshly battled
Against this sweet flower
To crush its colour and its perfume.
But if I see it cut or thrown down,
I shall never have or desire another afterwards.
But truly I cannot imagine
That the virtue in which my rose is enclosed
Comes from you and your false conduct,
But rather is a true gift of nature; and I believe
That you will never have the power
To reduce its price or worth.
Leave it me, then, for elsewhere than in my orchard
I shall never have or desire another afterwards.
Ah, Fortune, you are an abyss and a well
To swallow up every man who dares believe you;
Your false law, in which I can find nothing good
Nor certain, is too deceptive a thing;
Your smile, your pleasure, your honour
Are only tears, sadness and dishonour.
If your false deeds make my rose wither,
I shall never have or desire another afterwards.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Old French (Ancien français) to English copyright © 2015 by David Wyatt, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Based on:
- a text in Old French (Ancien français) by Guillaume de Machaut (c1300 - 1377)
This text was added to the website: 2015-01-13
Line count: 24
Word count: 182