The Dream | 2010

Ôwê, war sint verswunden
Alliu mîniu jâr!
Ist mîn leben mir getroumet
Oder ist ez wâr?
Daz ich ie wânde, daz iht waere
Was daz iht?
Dar nâch hân ich geslâfen
Und enweiz es niht
Nû bin ich erwachet
Und ist mir unbekant
Daz mir hie vor was kündic
Als mîn ander hant
Liute unde lant, dar in ich
Von kinde bin erzogen
Die sint mir frömde worden
Reht als ob ez sî gelogen
Die mîne gespilen wâren
Die sint traege und alt
Bereitet ist daz velt
Verhouwen ist der walt
Wan daz daz wazzer fliuzet
Als ez wîlent flôz
Für wâr, ich wânde
Mîn ungelücke wurde grôz
Mich grüezet maneger trâge
Der mich bekande ê wol
Diu welt ist allenthalben
Ungenâden vol
Als ich gedenke an manegen
Wünneclîchen tac
Die mir sint enpfallen
Als in daz mer ein slac
Iemer mêre ouwê
English translation:
Alas, where have they gone to, year on weary year?
Was it all a dream then, my life’s, my love’s career?
Things I took for granted, were they really so?
Sleep, sleep overtook me, and then I didn’t know
Now I have awakened, but like a foreign land
Are things once as familiar as my own right hand
The people and the places that as a child I knew
Now seem strange and distant, a tale which isn’t true
Children I once played with are no longer young and proud
The forests have been levelled, the meadows have been ploughed
But for the river flowing where it always flowed
My heart could never carry its heavy, heavy load
Some who paid me honour now turn their eyes away;
The world is too ungrateful when one is old and grey
Fondly I remember what joy there used to be
Those days have vanished traceless as ripples on the sea
Evermore, alas!
Alas, for the young people, how lamentable they are
Once they were so courtly, a better crowd by far
All they know is worry! Why are they so sad?
Though I search the world over, not one I find is glad
Dancing, laughing, singing are no-where in their creed
No Christian ever saw a more pathetic breed
Just look at how the ladies bind up their hair;
Proud knights attired in costumes the peasantry might wear
Unlovely, unkind letters have come to us from Rome;
Distress caused at a distance brings despondency at home
Once we lived not badly. It troubles me within:
When laughter turns to mourning, what then do we win?
The wild birds in the branches, they too lament our plight
How can I continue to hope for some respite?
Oh, but this is foolish, to be so sorely vexed!
To seek joy in this world is to lose it in the next
Evermore, alas!
Alas, how we’ve been poisoned by things which taste so sweet
If you take the honey, gall is what you’ll eat
The world without is pleasing, white and green and red;
Within, dark black’s her colour, dismal like the dead
Whoever she seduces should look to be redeemed;
Penance for some great sin may be lighter than it seemed
Take note, you knights, consider! This is your travail:
You wear the shining helmet, the shirt of strong chain mail
Yours is the sturdy long-shield, the consecrated sword;
I wish that I were worthy of such a bless’d reward
What riches I, a poor man, could then accumulate
(I don’t mean gold or silver or any vast estate!)
An eternal crown of glory would then my brow enhance;
Any simple soldier could win one with his lance
If I could cross the ocean, if that could come to pass
My song would be rejoicing, and nevermore «alas!»
Nevermore «alas!»

Ôwê, был sint стих РАН
Alliu mîniu jâr!
Это mîn жизни мне getroumet
Или это эз ВАР?
Daz я ie wânde, daz iht бы
Что iht daz?
Dar nâch hân я geslâfen
И enweiz это niht
Nû я проснулся
И мне unbekant
Daz меня hie Перед что kündic
Как mîn ander hant
Liute unde lant, дар в я
Воспитанный ребенком бин
Которые sint меня были frömde
Reht как будто ez sî наврал
На mîne gespilen wâren
Которые sint traege и стар
Готовит daz является velt
Verhouwen является Уолт
Wan daz daz fliuzet wazzer
Как ez wîlent flôz
Для wâr, я wânde
Mîn неучтенным стал grôz
Меня приветствует манегер trâge
Меня bekande ê wol
Мир Диу-это все
Ungenâden vol
Когда я поминаю манеж
Wünneclîchen tac
Мне sint enpfallen
Как в daz mer a slac
Iemer mêre ouwê
English translation:
Alas, where have they gone to weary год на год?
Что такое it all a dream then, my life's, my love's career?
Things I took for granted, they were really so?
Sleep, sleep overtook me, and then I didn't know
Now I have awakened, but like a foreign страна
Are things once as familiar as my own right hands
The people and the places that as a child I knew
Now seem strange and distant, a tale which isn't true
Children I once played with are no longer young and proud
The forests have been levelled, the meadows have been ploughed
But for the flowing river where it flowed always
My heart could never carry its heavy, heavy load
Some who paid honour me now turn their eyes away;
Мир слишком ungrateful when one is old and grey
Fondly I remember what joy there used to be
Those days have vanished traceless as ripples on the sea
Evermore, alas!
Алас, для молодых людей, how lamentable they are
Once they were so courtly, a better by far crowd
All they know is worry! Why are they so sad?
Though I search the world over, not one I find is glad
Dancing, laughing, singing are no where in their creed
Нет Christian ever saw a more pathetic breed
Just look at how the ladies bind up their hair;
Proud knights attired in costumes the peasantry might wear
Unlovely, unkind letters have come to us from Rome;
Distress caused at a distance brings at home despondency
Once we lived not badly. It troubles me within:
When laughter turns to mourning, then what do we win?
The wild birds in the branches, they too lament our plight
How can I continue to hope for some respite?
Oh, but this is foolish to be so sorely vexed!
To seek joy in this world is to lose it in the next
Evermore, alas!
Alas, how we've been poisoned by things which кнопку so sweet
If you take the honey, gall is what you'll eat
The world without is pleasing, white and green and red;
Within, dark black's her colour, dismal like the dead
Whoever she seduces should look to be redeemed;
Penance for some great sin may be lighter than it seemed
Take note, you knights, consider! This is your travail:
You wear helmet the shining, the shirt of strong chain mail
Yours is the sturdy long-shield, The consecrated sword;
I wish that I were worthy of such a reward bless'd
What riches I, a poor man could then accumulate
(I don't mean gold or silver or any vast estate!)
В crown of eternal glory would then my brow enhance;
Any simple soldier could win one with his lance
If I could cross the ocean, if that could come to pass
Моя песня would be rejoicing, and nevermore «alas!»
Nevermore «alas!»