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by Mellin de Saint-Gelais (1487 - 1558)
Translation © by David Wyatt
Je ne sçay que c'est qu'il me faut
Language: French (Français)
Our translations: ENG
Je ne sçay que c'est qu'il me faut,
Froid ou chaud
Je ne dors plus [ny je ne veille]1
C’est merveille
De me voir sain et langoureux.
Je croy que je suis amoureux.
En quatre jours ne fais pas
Deux repas
Je ne voix ny beuf ny charrue
J’ay la rue
Pour me pourmener nuict et jour.
Je fuis l’hostel et le sejour.
[Aussi il m’estoit grand besoin]2
D’avoir soing
Qui auroit des dances le pris
Je fus pris
Et m’amusay tant à la feste
Qu’encore m’en tourne la teste.
Je ne say ou le mal me tient
Mais il vient
D’avoir dancé avec Catin
Son tetin
Alloit au bransle, maudit soit-je3,
Il estoit aussi blanc que nege.
Elle avoit son beau collet mis
De Samis
Son beau [surcot]4 rouge et ses manches
Des Dimenches
Un long cordon à petits neuds
Pendant sur ces souliers tous neufs
Je me vy jecter ses yeux vers
De travers
Dont je feis des saut plus de dix
Et luy dis
En luy serrant le petit doi
Catin c’est pour l’amour de toy.
Sur ce point elle me laissa
Et cessa
De faire de moy plus de compte
J’en euz honte
Si grande que pour me cacher
Je feis [semblant]5 de me moucher.
Je l’ay veue une fois depuis
A son huis
Et une autre allant au marché
J’ay marché
Cent pas pour lui dire deux mots
Mais elle me tourne le doz.
Si ceste contenance fiere
Dure guere
Adieu grange, adieu labouraige
J’ay couraige
De me voir gendarme un matin
Ou moyen en despit de Catin.
View original text (without footnotes)
1 Chardavoine: "ny ne sommeille"
2 Chardavoine: "Il m’estois aussi grand besoing"
3 note : ‘sois-je’ was pronounced ‘sais-je’ at François I’s court – hence rhyming with ‘neige’
4 Chardavoine: "corset"
5 Chardavoine: "tremblant"
Researcher for this page: David Wyatt
1 Chardavoine: "ny ne sommeille"
2 Chardavoine: "Il m’estois aussi grand besoing"
3 note : ‘sois-je’ was pronounced ‘sais-je’ at François I’s court – hence rhyming with ‘neige’
4 Chardavoine: "corset"
5 Chardavoine: "tremblant"
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):
- by Jacob (aka Jacques or Jachet) Arcadelt (c1505 - c1568), "Je ne sçay que c'est qu'il me faut" [sung text not yet checked]
- by Jean Chardavoine (c1537 - c1580), "Je ne sçay que c'est qu'il me faut", from Recueil des voix de ville [sung text checked 1 time]
- by Antoine Mornable (flourished 1530-1553), "Je ne sçay que c'est qu'il me faut" [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (David Wyatt) , "I know not what I need", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: David Wyatt
This text was added to the website: 2017-06-12
Line count: 54
Word count: 269
I know not what I need
Language: English after the French (Français)
I know not what I need,
Cold or hot,
I sleep not nor [wake]1
It’s a wonder
To see me healthy yet pining.
I believe I’m in love!
In four days I’ve had only
Two meals,
I cannot look at ox or plough,
I have the street
To walk in night and day.
I avoid lodging and rest.
It was really important to me
To care
Who would win the dance-prize,
I was so interested
And amused myself so much at the feast
That still it turns my head.
I don’t know where the illness caught me
But it comes
From having danced with Katie,
Her breast
Bounced in the dance, and I was damned,
It was as white as snow.
She had on her fine collar made
Of Samite,
Her fine red [surcoat]2 and her
Sunday gloves,
A long necklet in little knots,
Brand new, hanging on her shoulders.
I saw her throwing her glance at me
Askance,
So I made ten or more leaps
And said to her
As I took her little finger,
“Katie, it’s for love of you.”
That moment, she left me
And stopped
Paying any attention to me.
I was so
Ashamed that to hide myself
[I pretended to wipe]3 my face with my handkerchief.
I saw her once afterwards
At her door,
Going with another lass to market.
I walked
A hundred paces to say a couple of words to her,
But she turned her back on me.
If this proud look
Lasts long,
Farewell farm, farewell work,
I have courage
To become a man-at-arms one day,
Or a monk, to spite Katie.
View original text (without footnotes)
1 Chardavoine: "dream"
2 Chardavoine: "corset"
3 Chardavoine: "I tremblingly wiped"
1 Chardavoine: "dream"
2 Chardavoine: "corset"
3 Chardavoine: "I tremblingly wiped"
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2017 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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in French (Français) by Mellin de Saint-Gelais (1487 - 1558)
This text was added to the website: 2017-06-12
Line count: 54
Word count: 273