Simon Doria - Works

Works

The tenso with Jacme Grils is preserved in two manuscripts: troubadour MS "O", which is a 14th-century Italian work on parchment, now "Latin 3208" in the Biblioteca Vaticana in Rome; and a1, an Italian paper manuscript from 1589, now in the Biblioteca Estense in Modena. It is begun by Simon:

Segne'n Iacme Grils, e.us deman,
car vos vei larc e ben istan
e qar per ric pretz sobeiran
e per saver es mentaubutz,
qe me digatz per q'es perdutz
solatz e domneis mal volgutz.
Lord Jacme Grils, I appeal to you,
as you are liberal and full of worth,
and rich, prestigious, elevated,
and wise in reputation,
tell me why worldly pleasure is lost
and gallantry accompanied by bad intentions?

The tenso with Alberto, possibly Alberto Fieschi, N'Albert, chauçeç la cal mais vos plaira, is found only in chansonnier called "troubadour manuscript T", numbered 15211 in the Bibliothèque nationale de France, where it is kept today. It is originally a late 13th-century Italian work. This tenso is the only datable work in Simon's oeuvre, thanks to his stanza #5:

Be.m meravigll, N'Albert, q'en tuta guisa,
no m'autreas del plac so q'eu vos dic,
qe qan ieu tenc midons senes camisa,
l'enperador non evei Frederic,
q'eu sai q'ell'es blancha e frescha e lisa;
I am very astonished, Sir Albert, that in any case,
you do not concede the point I made to you,
that when I hold my lady without a shirt—
the emperor Frederick I do not envy—
I know she is white and fresh and pretty.

Read more about this topic:  Simon Doria

Famous quotes containing the word works:

    “‘Tis too plain that with the material power the moral progress has not kept pace. It appears that we have not made a judicious investment. Works and days were offered us, and we took works.”
    —Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)

    “The noble simplicity in the works of nature only too often originates in the noble shortsightedness of him who observes it.”
    —G.C. (Georg Christoph)

    “The subterranean miner that works in us all, how can one tell whither leads his shaft by the ever shifting, muffled sound of his pick?”
    —Herman Melville (1819–1891)