TRUBADOUR
My name is Anselm and it doesn’t really matter where I come from. Yes, my father was indeed a wealthy man, but there just wasn’t enough land for all the four sons. They would have put me in a monastery, but I thanked no to that offer. I would rather go around from one court to another singing my songs. I have the talent so why wouldn’t I use it. I am from just as well a breed or better as the next guy. I do know that there are all kinds of singers around. Even some bourgeois youngsters try it; however, a real lady knows the ones with the heart of a knight. I sing songs for a treat, for men lampoon and for women romance.
Indeed I do love the women, my one and only true love in all the women. She was my first lady, beautiful like a white lily, with her lips as red roses, as light as a bird and as sweet as honey. It was her I wanted in my arms and to place my lips upon hers. I was so lovesick, longing for her healing, tender touch, waiting and adoring and serving, doing all I could, begging on my hands and knees.
It has been a while, but I haven’t forgotten. Being in the arms of the maids’ of the ladies does make you forget your sorrows for a while, but true love never withers away. The picture of her is my most treasured memory and as I have already died for her sake, there is nothing in the world for me to be afraid of.
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LINKS
Niilo Olavsson the First Finnish Knight
O doulce amour
Claudin de Sermisy (c.1490-1562)
