Dame, de qui toute ma joie vient
Language: French (Français)
Dame, de qui toute ma joie vient,
Je ne vous puis trop amer, ne chierir,
N'assés loër, si com il apartient,
Servir, doubter, honnourer, n'obeïr;
Car le gracieus espoir,
Douce dame, que j'ay de vous vëoir,
Me fait cent fois plus de bien et de joie,
Qu'en cent mille ans desservir ne porroie.
Cils dous espoirs en vie me soustient
Et me norrist en amoureus desir,
Et dedens moy met tout ce qui couvient
Pour conforter mon cuer et resjoïr;
N'il ne s'en part main ne soir,
Einsois me fait doucement recevoir
Plus des dous biens qu'Amours aus siens ottroie,
Qu'en cent mille ans desservir ne porroie.
Et quant Espoir que en mon cuer se tient
Fait dedens moy si grant joie venir,
Lonteins de vous, ma dame, s'il avient
Que vo biauté voie que moult desir,
Ma joie, si com j'espoir,
Ymaginer, penser, ne concevoir
Ne porroit nuls, car trop plus en aroie,
Qu'en cent mille and desservir ne porroie.
Text Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (David Wyatt) , title unknown, 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: 161
Lady, from whom comes all my joy
Language: English after the French (Français)
Lady, from whom comes all my joy,
I cannot love you too much, nor cherish you,
Nor praise you enough, serve you,
Fear, honour nor obey enough as belongs to you;
For the gracious hope,
Sweet lady, which I have of seeing you
Makes me a hundred times better and happier
Than I could deserve in a hundred thousand years.
These sweet hopes sustain me in my life
And feed me with love’s desire,
And place within me all that helps
To comfort my heart and make it joyful;
Nor does it leave me morning or night,
And so makes me sweetly receive
More of the sweet benefits which Love gives her own
Than I could deserve in a hundred thousand years.
And since Hope which maintains itself in my heart
Makes such great joy arrive within me
When far from you, my lady, if it should happen
That I should see your beauty which I much desire
My joy, as I hope, no man could
Imagine, understand or conceive –
For I would have far more
Than I could deserve in a hundred thousand years.
About the headline (FAQ)
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (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:
This text was added to the website: 2015-01-13
Line count: 24
Word count: 186