WITHOUT FRIENDS – Poetry, by Jordi De Sant Jordi

DESERT D’AMICS > Desert d’amics, de béns e de senyor, en estrany lloc i en estranya contrada, lluny de tot bé, fart d’enuig e tristor, ma voluntat e pensa caitivada, me trob del tot en mal poder sotsmès, no vei algú que de mé s’haja cura, e soi guardats, enclòs, ferrats e pres, de què en fau grat a ma trista ventura. Eu hai vist temps que no em plasia res; ara em content de ço que em fai tristura, e los grillons lleugers ara preu més que en lo passat la bella brodadura. Fortuna vei que ha mostrat son voler sus mé, volent que en tal punt vengut sia; però no em cur, pus hai fait mon dever amb tots los bons que em trob en companyia. Tots aquests mals no em són res de sofrir en esguard d’u qui al cor me destenta e em fai tot jorn d’esperança partir: com no vei res que ens avanç d’una espenta en acunçar nostre deslliurament.

WITHOUT FRIENDS > Without friends, goods and master, in a strange place and in a strange region, far from everything good, tired of worry and sadness, my will and thought captivated, I find myself completely subject to an evil power; I see no one who will take care of me, and I am guarded, caught, shackled and imprisoned, for which I blame my sad fortune. I saw times when nothing satisfied me; now I am content with what makes me sad, and now I appreciate more the light shackles than before I did the most beautiful embroidery. I see that fortune has shown its power over me, wanting me to reach this point; but I don’t care, for I have done my duty to all good people in whose company I am. It is nothing for me to suffer all these wrongs compared to the one which breaks my heart, and every day it makes me crack with hope: I see nothing that can give us a push in preparing our liberation.

(Jordi De Sant Jordi)