ABSTRACT
The planh 1 that Sir Bertran de Born composed for the Young King was written for no other reason than that the Young King was the finest man in the world and Sir Bertran loved him more than any man in the world and the Young King loved him more than any man in the world and trusted him more than any man in the world. This is why King Henry, his father, and Count Richard, his brother, wished harm upon Sir Bertran. For the sake of the valor of the Young King and for the great sadness that his death inflicted upon all people, he composed this planh about him which says: I end my song in sorrow and suffering…
Song 80, 26
Bertran de Bom: “Mon chan fenis ab dol et ab maltraire…”
Source: Paden et al., 215.
MSS: A 189, B 113, C 144, D 122, E 99, F 97, I 183, K 169, Mh 2 (anonymous).
Other English translations: Paden et al., 215.
1. Forevermore I end my song in sorrow and suffering And consider it over and done with, For I have lost my wits, and my joy, And the best king ever born of a mother: Generous and well-spoken, 5 A fine horseman, Beautiful to look at And of humble appearance, So as to confer great honors. I believe this grief has such a grip on me 10 That it has taken me over completely And this is why I go on talking about it. I commend him to God, That he put him in the place of Saint John. 872. King of the Courtly and Emperor of the Brave: 15 These would have been your titles had you lived, Lord. But you carried the name of Young King And indeed you were the father and leader of all who are young. Hauberks and swords, Beautiful buckram, 20 Helmets and banners, Doublets and garments, Joy and love Have no one to maintain them Or to bring them back. 25 They will follow you there, They will flee with you And all fine and perfect deeds. 3. A fine welcome, giving without a fickle heart, Lovely conversation and “How glad I am to see you!”; 30 A great court, paid for and well maintained, Gifts, arms, and well-being without wrong-doing, Eating to the lively sounds Of song and viol, And tons of companions, 35 Strong and brave, The very best there are. I want people to stop all this So that none of it is retained In this vile world 40 During this ill-fated year Which once seemed so fair. 4. Lord, in you there was nothing to improve upon; All the world had chosen you as The best king ever to carry a shield 45 And the bravest, the champion toumeyer. Since the time of Roland Or even before Never has there been seen so noble a man, So skilled at war, 50 Whose praises Have left such a mark on the world Or brought it such vitality. Nor one who has gone off to in search of that praise 88From the Nile to the land of the setting sun, 55 Expecting it wherever he went. 5. Lord, in your honor I wish to give up on joy; All those who ever set eyes on you Must now stand grief-stricken and mute And may no joy ever transform that sorrow: 60 Bretons and Irishmen, English and Normans, Aquitanians and Gascons, And Poitou suffers over it As do Maine and Tours. 65 May all of France, up to Compiègne, Be unable to hold back her grief, And Flanders, from Ghent All the way to Wissant; Even the Germans weep! 70 6. When the men from Lorraine and Brabant Hold their tournaments They will be so saddened not to see you there. 7. The world isn’t worth a penny Or the drop of an acorn to me 75 Nor are those who are left within it. 8. Because of the burdensome death Of the good and venerable king We must now, all of us, suffer.