Rialto

217.2

 

   

Guillem Figueira

 

 

 

 

   

I.

   

D’un sirventes far

   

en est son que m’agenssa

   

no·m vuolh plus tarzar

   

ni far longa bistenssa;

5  

e sai ses doptar,

   

qu’ieu n’aurai malvolenssa,

   

car fauc sirventes

   

dels fals, malapres

   

de Roma, que es

10  

cap de la dechasenssa,

   

que dechai totz bes.

   

 

   

II.

   

No·m meravilh ges,

   

Roma, si la gens erra,

   

que·l segle avetz mes

15  

en trebalh et en guerra;

   

e pretz e merces

   

per vos mor e sosterra,

   

Roma enganairitz,

   

qu’etz de totz mals guitz

20  

e cima e razitz;

   

que·l bons reis d’ Englaterra

   

fon per vos trahitz.

   

 

   

III.

   

Roma, trichairitz,

   

cobeitatz vos engana,

25  

c’a vostras berbitz

   

tondetz trop de la lana.

   

Lo sains esperitz,

   

que receup carn humana,

   

entenda mos precs

30  

e franha tos becs.

   

Roma, no m’entrecs,

   

car es falsa e trafana

   

vas nos e vas Grecs.

   

 

   

IV.

   

Roma, als homes pecs

35  

rosetz la carn e l’ossa,

   

e guidatz los secs

   

ab vos inz en la fossa,

   

e passatz los decs de Dieu,

   

car trop es grossa

40  

vostra cobeitatz

   

car vos perdonatz

   

per deniers pechatz.

   

Roma, de gran trasdossa

   

de mal vos cargatz.

   

 

   

V.

45  

Roma, ben sapchatz

   

que vostra avols barata

   

e vostra foudatz fetz

   

perdre Damiata.

   

Malamen renhatz,

50  

Roma. Dieus vos abata

   

en dechazemen,

   

car trop falsamen

   

renhatz per argen,

   

Roma de mal’ esclata

55  

e de mal coven.

   

 

   

VI.

   

Roma, veramen

   

sai eu senes doptanssa

   

c’ab galiamen

   

de falsa perdonanssa

60  

liuretz a turmen

   

lo barnatge de Franssa

   

lonh de paradis,

   

e·l bon rei Loïs,

   

Roma, avetz aucis,

65  

c’ab falsa predicanssa

   

l traissetz de Paris.

   

 

   

VII.

   

Roma, als Sarrazis

   

faitz vos pauc de dampnatge,

   

mas Grecs e Latis

70  

liuratz a carnalatge.

   

Inz el pos d’abis,

   

Roma, faitz vostre estatge

   

en perdicion,

   

Ja Dieus part no·m don,

75  

Roma, del perdon

   

ni del pelegrinatge

   

que fetz d’Avinhon.

   

 

   

VIII.

   

Roma, ses razon

   

avetz mainta gen morta,

80  

e jes no·m sab bon,

   

car tenetz via torta,

   

qu’a salvacion,

   

Roma, serratz la porta.

   

Per qu’a mal govern

85  

d’estiu e d’invern

   

qui sec vostr’estern,

   

car diables l’en porta

   

inz el fuoc d’enfern.

   

 

   

IX.

   

Roma, be·is decern

90  

mals c’om vos deu dire,

   

quar faitz per esquern

   

dels crestians martire.

   

Mas en cal quadern

   

trobatz c’om deja aucire

95  

Roma·ls crestians?

   

Dieus, qu’es verais pans

   

e cotidians,

   

me don so qu’eu desire

   

vezer dels Romans.

   

 

   

X.

100  

Roma, vers es plans

   

que trop etz angoissosa

   

dels perdons trafans

   

que fetz sobre Tolosa.

   

Trop rozetz las mans

105  

a lei de rabiosa,

   

Roma descordans.

   

Mas si·l coms prezans

   

viu ancar dos ans,

   

Fransa n’er dolorosa

110  

dels vostres engans.

   

 

   

XI.

   

Roma, tant es grans

   

la vostra forfaitura

   

que Dieu e sos sans

   

en gitatz a non cura,

115  

tant etz mal renhan,

   

Roma falsa e tafura,

   

per qu’en vos s’escon

   

e·is magra e·is cofon

   

los jois d’aquest mon.

120  

E faitz gran desmesura

   

del comte Raimon.

   

 

   

XII.

   

Roma, Dieus l’aon

   

e·lh don poder e forsa

   

al comte que ton

125  

los Frances e·ls escorsa,

   

e fa’n planca e pon,

   

quand ab els se comorsa;

   

et a mi platz fort.

   

Roma, a Dieu recort

130  

del vostre gran tort,

   

si·l platz; e·l comte estorsa

   

de vos e de mort.

   

 

   

XIII.

   

Roma, be·m conort

   

quez en abans de gaire

135  

venrez a mal port,

   

si l’adreitz emperaire

   

mena adreich sa sort

   

ni fai so que deu faire.

   

Roma, eu dic ver,

140  

que·l vostre poder

   

veirem dechazer.

   

Roma, lo vers salvaire

   

m’o lais tost vezer.

   

 

   

XIV.

   

Roma, per aver

145  

faitz mainta vilania

   

e maint desplazer

   

e mainta fellonia.

   

Tant voletz aver

   

del mon la senhoria

150  

que ren non temetz

   

Dieu ni sos devetz,

   

anz vei que fazetz

   

mais qu’ieu dir non poiria

   

de mal, per un detz

   

 

   

XV.

155  

Roma, tan tenetz

   

estreg la vostra grapa

   

que so que podetz

   

tener, greu vos escapa.

   

Si·n breu non perdetz

160  

poder, a mala trapa

   

es lo mons cazutz

   

e mortz e vencutz

   

e·l pretz confondutz.

   

Roma, la vostra papa

165  

fai aitals vertutz.

   

 

   

XVI.

   

Roma, cel qu’es lutz

   

del mon e vera vida

   

e vera salutz,

   

vos do mal’escarida

170  

car tans mals saubutz

   

faitz, per que lo mons crida.

   

Roma, deslejals,

   

razitz de totz mals,

   

els focs enfernals

175  

ardretz senes falhida,

   

si non penssatz d’als.

   

 

   

XVII

   

Roma, als cardenals

   

vos pot hom sobreprendre

   

per los criminals

180  

pecatz que fan entendre,

   

que non pensan d’als,

   

mas cum puoscan revendre

   

Dieu et sos amics

   

e no·i val castics.

185  

Roma, grans fastics

   

es d’auzir e d’entendre

   

los vostres prezics.

   

 

   

XVIII.

   

Roma, eu sui enics,

   

car vostre poders monta,

190  

e car grans destrics

   

totz ab vos nos afronta,

   

car vos etz abrics

   

e caps d’engan e d’onta

   

e de deshonor;

195  

e·il vostre pastor

   

son fals trichador,

   

Roma, e qui·ls aconta

   

fai trop gran follor.

   

 

   

XIX.

   

Roma, mal labor

200  

fa·l papa, quan tensona

   

ab l’emperador

   

pel dreich de la corona

   

ni·l met en error

   

ni·ls sieus gerriers perdona

205  

car aitals perdos

   

que non sec razos,

   

Roma, non es bos,

   

enans qui l’en razona,

   

reman vergonhos.

   

 

   

XX.

210  

Roma, ·l glorios

   

que sofri mortal pena

   

en la crotz per nos,

   

vos done mal’estrena,

   

car voletz totz jors

215  

portar la borsa plena,

   

Roma, de mal for,

   

que tot vostre cor

   

avetz en tresor;

   

don cobeitatz vos mena

220  

el fuoc que no mor.

   

 

   

XXI.

   

Roma, del malcor

   

que portatz en la gola,

   

nais lo sucx, don mor

   

lo mals e s’estrangola

225  

ab doussor del cor;

   

per que·l savis tremola,

   

quan conois e ve

   

lo mortal vere

   

e de lai on ve,

230  

Roma del cor vos cola,

   

don li pieitz son ples.

   

 

   

XXII.

   

Roma, ben ancse

   

a hom auzit retraire

   

que·l cap sem vos te,

235  

per que·l faitz soven raire;

   

per que cug e cre

   

qu’ops vos auria traire,

   

Roma, del cervel,

   

quar de mal capel

240  

etz vos e Cistel,

   

qu’a Bezers fazetz faire

   

mout estranh mazel.

   

 

   

XXIII.

   

Roma, ab fals sembel

   

tendetz vostra tezura,

245  

e man mal morsel

   

manjatz, qui que l’endura.

   

Car’avetz d’anhel

   

ab simpla guardadura,

   

dedins lops rabatz,

250  

serpens coronatz

   

de vibr’engenratz,

   

per que·l diable·us cura

   

coma·ls sieus privatz.

 

 

English translation [LP]

I. I do not wish to delay further in composing a sirventes on this tune which pleases me, or wait for a long time; and I know for sure that it will have a hostile reception, since I am composing a sirventes about the hypocritical, ignorant men of Rome, which heads the corruption that ruins everything good.
II. Rome, I am not surprised if the people stray, for you have pitched the world into torment and war, and because of you merit and compassion are dead and buried; deceitful Rome, you are the leader of all evils and their crown and root; the good king of England was betrayed by you.
III. Crooked Rome, greed beguiles you: you shear too much wool from your sheep. May the Holy Spirit who received human flesh hear my prayers and break your beaks! Rome, I am not joining in your dance, for you are false and treacherous towards us and the Greeks.
IV. Rome, you gnaw at the flesh and bones of foolish men and lead the blind with you into the abyss; you transgress God’s commandments, so massive is your greed, pardoning sins for money. Rome, you bear a great burden of evil on your back.
V. Rome, be well aware that your vile barter and your folly have lost us Damietta. You act evilly, Rome. God crush and ruin you, for you act hypocritically for the sake of money: base-born, pact-breaking Rome!
VI. Rome, I well and truly know that with the trick of false pardon you deliver the nobility of France to torment, far from Paradise; and, Rome, you have killed the good king Louis, for with false preaching you drew him away from Paris.
VII. Rome, you do little harm to the Saracens, but you send Greeks and Latins to the slaughter. Down in the pit of the abyss, Rome, you make your home, in perdition. God never make me take part, Rome, in the pardon or the pilgrimage you made to Avignon.
VIII. Rome, you have killed many people without cause, and I hate the twisting path you follow, Rome, because you close the door to salvation. Anyone who follows in your footsteps has a bad helmsman, in both summer and winter, because the Devil bears him off to the fire of Hell.
IX. Rome, it is easy to see what evil should be said of you, since you make martyrs of Christians so that you can jeer at them. But in what book do you find it written, Rome, that Christians should be killed? God, who is the true and daily bread, grant that I see what I desire befall the Romans.
X. Rome, it is plainly obvious that you are too zealous in the corrupt indulgences you created against Toulouse. Like a man with rabies, Rome, you gnaw too much at your hands (you rave wildly? you attack the Church’s own members?), stirring up discord. But if the valiant count lives another two years, France will be sorry for your wiles.
XI. Rome, your wickedness is so great that you disregard God and his saints, so wickedly do you behave, false and crooked Rome, for in you the joy of this world hides away, diminishes and dies. And you commit great injustice towards Count Raymond.
XII. Rome, God assist him and give power and strength to the Count who fleeces and flays the French and walks all over them when they come to blows; and this is a great pleasure for me. Rome, may God remember your great wrongdoing, if it please Him; and deliver the Count from you and from death.
XIII. Rome, I am much comforted by the fact that very soon you will come to a bad end, if the upright emperor rightly fulfils his destiny and does what he ought to do. Rome, I tell you truly, we shall see your power in ruins. Rome, may the true Saviour let me see this soon.
XIV. Rome, for money you carry out many base deeds, many unpleasant actions, many crimes. So much do you want to rule the world that you have absolutely no fear of God and His prohibitions; instead I see you doing ten times more evil than I could possibly relate.
XV. Rome, you have your hooks so firmly latched on to what you can hold that it has little chance of escape. If you do not soon lose power, the world will have fallen into an evil trap, and be dead and vanquished, and worth will be in ruins. Rome, these are the good works your pope performs!
XVI. Rome, He who is light of the world, and true life and true salvation, grant you an evil fate, since you perform so many notorious, wicked deeds which make the world cry out [in anguish]. Rome, disloyal, root of all evil, without fail you will burn in the fires of Hell if you do not change your ways.
XVII. Rome, you can be blamed for the cardinals on account of their well-known criminal sins, for they think of nothing but how to sell God and His friends, and it is useless to rebuke them. Rome, it is disgusting to hear and listen to your preaching!
XVIII. Rome, I am angry because your power is on the rise, and because on your account great damage confronts us all, for you are the refuge and head of deceit and shame and dishonour; and your priests are false hypocrites, Rome, and anyone who has anything to do with them is acting extremely foolishly.
XIX. Rome, the pope acts wickedly when he fights with the emperor over the right to the crown and declares him a heretic and grants absolution to his enemies, for such absolution, out of step with reason, Rome, is not virtuous; rather, anyone who defends him is disgraceful.
XX. Rome, may the Glorious One who suffered mortal pain for us upon the cross give you a poor reward, for you always want to carry a full purse, Rome of evil ways: you have your whole heart set on treasure, so greed is leading you into the undying fire.
XXI. Rome, from the bile you keep in your throat comes the liquor which causes the wicked man to die and to choke from the heart’s sweetness. So the wise man trembles when he recognises and sees the deadly venom and where it comes from: Rome, your breast is full of it, and it oozes from your heart.
XXII. Rome, people have long heard tell that you have an empty head because you often shave it: so I think and believe you will need, Rome, to produce some brains, as you and Cîteaux wear a shameful hat (have a shameful reputation) for having caused a most cruel massacre at Béziers.
XXIII. Rome, with a cunning lure you set your trap, and eat many an evil mouthful, whoever suffers for it. You have the face of a lamb with an innocent look, [but] inside [you are] a ravening wolf, a crowned serpent sired by a viper, which is why the Devil looks after you like one of his close friends.

 

 

 

Text: Gianfelice Peron, Rialto 6.xii.2015.


Notes: This invective against the Church of Rome was composed in 1227-1229, either in Toulouse or Italy, and provoked a stinging response from the otherwise unknown trobairitz Gormonda (BdT 217.1). It was still being sung in Toulouse in 1274, when inquisitors asked a certain Bernart Raimon Baranhon whether he owned a book entitled ‘Roma trichairitz’ (cf. v. 18). He replied in the negative but said he had heard ‘quandam cantilenam, sive coplas pluries, quas fecit quidam ioculator qui vocabatur Figueira, quarum una incipit, sicut ipse credit, sic: D’un sirventes far en est so que m’agensa no·m vuolh plus tarzar ni far longa bistenssa; e sai ses doptar, qu’ ieu n’aurai malvolenssa’ (see Alfred Jeanroy, La Poésie lyrique des troubadours, 2 voll., Toulouse and Paris, 1934, vol. II, p. 225 and Peron’s notes). – Lines 111-114: Peron understands the implications to be more serious: ‘your wickedness is so great that you cause God and his saints to be disregarded’. Either interpretation is possible. – Lines 232-235: translated idiomatically. The subject of the 3rd person singular te (234) is the act in 235: compare Levy’s gloss, ‘Der Umstand, dass ihr euch oft scheeren lasst, lässt euch den Kopf mangelhaft sein’.

[LP, lb]


BdT    Guillem Figueira    217.2

Songs referring to the crusades