120. Edi Beo Thu, Hevene Quene

Chanson médiévale, Angleterre.

Edi beo thu, hevene quene,
Folke's froure and engle's bliss,
Moth'r unwemmed and maiden clene,
Which in this world non other nis.
One thee, hit is well eth sene,
Of all wimmen thu havest the pris;
Swete ledy, her mi ben',
And reu of me if thi wille is.

Thu asteghe so the day rew',
The deleth from the deorke nicht;
Of thee sprong a leome new',
That all this world haveth ilicht.
Nis non maide of thine heow',
Fair and schen', so rudi, so bricht;
Swete ledy o' me thu reow',
And have mercy o' thin k'nicht.

Blos'me sprong of one root',
The Holi Gost thee reste upon;
Thet wes for monkunne's bot'
And heor' soul' to alesen for on.
Ledy milde, softe and swote,
I' crie thee merci, I' am thi man,
Both' to honde and to fot',
On alle wise that I' kan.

Traduction en anglais moderne:

Blessed be you, heaven’s queen,
People’s comfort and angel’s bliss,
Mother immaculate and maiden pure,
Such in world no other is.
In you it is easily seen,
Of all women you have the prize;
My sweet lady, hear my prayer
And have pity on me, will you.

You ascend like the ray of dawn
Which separates from the dark night;
From you sprang a new light
That has lit all this world.
There is no maid of your complexion
So fair, so beautiful, so fresh, so bright;
Sweet lady, have compassion
And have mercy on your knight.

Blossom sprung from a single root,
The Holy Ghost rested upon you;
That was for mankind’s benefit
And their soul to redeem on.
Lady mild, soft and sweet,
I cry for your mercy, I am your servant,
Both hand and foot,
In all ways that I know.

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