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

Trop plus est bele que biauté
Language: French (Français) 
Our translations:  ENG
Motetus
 Trop plus est bele que biauté
 Et millour que ne soit bonté,
 Pleinne de tout ce, à dire voir,
 Que bonne et belle doit avoir,
 Ce m'est vis, celle que desir
 Et aim sans nul vilain desir.
 Dont se je l'aim, et je qu'en puis,
 Quant en sa fine biauté truis
 De tous mes maus la garison,
 Leesse, confort, guerredon
 Et secours de tous les meschiés
 Dont par desir sui entichiés,
 Comment qu'elle n'en sache rien;
 Car toute la joie et le bien,
 Que j'ay, de sa grace me vient,
 Sans plus, quant de li me souvient;
 N'autre bonté de li n'enport.
 Si pri Amours qu'en tel acort
 Soit, pour ce que miex l'aim que mi,
 Qu'elle me teingne pour ami.
 Amen.

Triplum
 Biauté parée de valour,
 Desirs qui onques n'a sejour
 D'acroistre, eins croist de jour en jour
 En plaisance et en douce ardour,
 Dous regars pris par grant savour,
 Tous pleins de promesse d'amour,
 D'espoir, de joie, de tenrour
 Et de pointure de douçour,
 Font que j'aim des dames la flour.
 Or me doint Diex grace et vigour
 Qu'au gré d'Amours et à s'onnour
 La puisse servir sans folour.
 Amen.

Tenor
 Je ne sui mie certeins d'avoir amie,
 Mais je suis loyaus amis.

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: "She is so much more beautiful than Beauty itself", 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: 39
Word count: 203

She is so much more beautiful than Beauty itself
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
MOTETUS : 
She is so much more beautiful than Beauty itself
And better than Goodness is,
Full of all that, truth to tell,
Which a good and fair lady should have,
So it seems to me – she whom I desire
And love with no base passion.
Therefore I love her so and can do nothing else
Since in her true goodness I find
The cure for all my ills,
And joy, comfort, reward
And help for all the misfortunes
By which I am troubled through my desire.
How can she know nothing of this?
For all the joy and good
Which I have comes to me from her grace,
Nothing more, whenever I recall her;
I take away from her no other goodness.
So I beg Love that he might be so
Favourable, since I love her more than myself,
That she will take me as her lover.
Amen.

TRIPLUM : 
Beauty embellished with great worth,
Desire which never ceases
From growing, but grows from day to day
In pleasure and in sweet ardour,
Sweet glances accepted with great enjoyment,
Entirely filled with the promise of love,
Of hope, joy, tenderness
And of the sting of sweetness
[All these] make me love the flower of women.
May God then grant me grace and strength
So that, by the will of Love and to his honour,
I may serve her without frivolity.
Amen.

TENOR : 
I am not at all sure of having my beloved,
But I am a faithful lover.

Translator's note : though a secular text, this is built in motet-form, hence the (perhaps ironic ?) Amen at the end…

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: 39
Word count: 251