by Guillaume de Machaut (c1300 - 1377)
Translation © by David Wyatt

Lasse! comment oiblieray
Language: French (Français) 
Our translations:  ENG
Motetus:
Lasse! comment oiblieray
Le bel, le bon, le dous, le gay
A qui entierement donnay
Le cuer de mi
Pour le sien que j'ay sans demi
Et le retins pour mon ami,
Einsois que eüsse mon mari,
Qui me deffent
Et me gaite mout durement
Que ne voie son corps le gent,
Dont li cuers en ij pars me fent;
Car il m'estuet
Malgré mien faire ce qu'il vuet,
Dont durement li cuers me duet.
Mais pour ce drois ne se remuet
Ne bonne foy;
Car puis que certeinnement voy
Qu'il vuet et quiert l'onneur de moy
Et qu'il m'aimme assez plus que soy,
Et se le truis
Si bon qu'il prent tous ses deduis
En moy servir, je ne le puis
Laissier, se mauvaise ne suis,
Eins le puis bien
Amer par honneur et par bien,
Quant j'ay son cuer et il le mien,
Sans ce que je mespreigne en rien,
Ce m'est avis.
Mais j'eüsse trop fort mespris,
Se j'eüsse l'amer empris,
De puis que j'eus à marit pris,
Lasse! celui
Qui tant me fait peinne et anuy
Qu'en tous cas toute joie fui,
N'en ce monde n'a moy n'autruy
Qui me confort,
Car mi gieu, mi ris, mi deport,
Mi chant, mi revel, mi confort.
Mi bien et mi bon jour son mort.
Et nuit et jour
Acroist li ruissiaus de mon plour,
Quant le plus bel et le millour
De tous ne voy: c'est ma dolour!
Mais soit certeins
Que, comment que mes corps lonteins
Li soit, mes cuers li est procheins,
D'amours et de loiauté pleins.

Triplum:
Se j'aim mon loyal ami
Et il mi si loyaument
Qu'il est tous miens sans nul si
Et je aussi entierement,
Sans nul vilain pensement,
Bonnement à li m'ottri,
Pour ce qu'il m'a longuement,
Liement, de cuer servi,
Ay je pour ce desservi,
Lasse! aymi, que tellement
M'en demainne mon mari
Que de li n'ay fors tourment?
Nennil, car certeinnement,
Mortelment peche celi
Qui pour bien faire mal rent.
Or m'aprent à faire einsi
Qu'il vuet que mette en oubli
Celui qui m'a humblement
Doubté celé, obey
Et cheri à mon talent.

Tenor:
Pour quoy me bat mes maris?
Lassette!
Aymi, Diex!
Pour quoy me bat mes maris?
Lassette!
Je ne li ay riens meffait,
Je ne li ay riens meffait,
Fors qu'à mon ami parlay
Seulette.
Aymi, Diex!
Fors qu'à mon ami parlai
Seulette.
Pour quoy me bat mes maris?
Lassette!
Aymi, Diex!
Pour quoy me bat mes maris?
Lassette!

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 1: "Alas, how shall I forget?", 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: 87
Word count: 411

Alas, how shall I forget?
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
MOTETUS:
Alas, how shall I forget
The handsome, good, sweet, joyous man
To whom entirely I gave
My heart
In exchange for his which I have without halving it
And keep for my lover,
As if he were my husband;
But he keeps me away
And watches out most relentlessly
That I should not see his noble form,
So that my heart is broken into 2 parts.
For I am forced
Against my will to do what he wishes,
Which hurts my heart badly.
But for this reason right is not removed
Nor good faith:
Since I certainly see
That he wishes and seeks my honour
And that he loves me as much as himself,
And as I find him 
So good that he takes all his pleasure
In serving me, I cannot leave
Him, unless I am wicked;
Instead I can truly
Love him in honour and truth,
Since I have his heart and he has mine,
Without being deceived at all:
That is my belief.
But I would have been very badly mistaken
I I had undertaken to love him
Since I would have taken as husband,
Alas, him
Who has given me such pain and trouble
That in all situations all joy flees,
Nor in this world would I have anything in myself or elsewhere
To comfort me;
For my games, my smiles, my happiness,
My songs, my revels, my comfort,
My benefits and my good days are dead.
And night and day
Grow the streams of my tears
When I do not see the fairest
And best of all:  that is my sadness!
But he should be certain
That, however far my body
May be from him, my heart is near him,
Full of love and faithfulness.

TRIPLUM:
I love my true lover so,
And he loves me so faithfully
That he is all mine without any ifs
And I too entirely
With no untrue thoughts
Give myself to him in good faith
Because he has for a long time
Joyously served me in his heart;
Have I then deserved
(Alas, woe is me) that my husband
Should treat me so,
That I have from him nothing but suffering?
No no, for certainly
Anyone has mortally sinned
Who returns evil for good rendered.
But he is teaching me to do this
As he wants me to forget
Him who has humbly
Revered, concealed, obeyed
And cherished me according to my desire.

TENOR:
Why does my husband beat me?
Poor me!
Woe is me, o God!
Why does my husband beat me?
Poor me!
I have done him no wrong,
I have done him no wrong,
Except to speak to my beloved
On my own.
Woe is me, o God!
Except to speak to my beloved
On my own.
Why does my husband beat me?
Poor me!
Woe is me, o God!
Why does my husband beat me?
Poor me!

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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This text was added to the website: 2015-01-13
Line count: 87
Word count: 483