Carmina burana

---

O Fortune,

like the moon

you are changeable,

ever waxing and waning;

hateful life

first oppresses and then soothes

as fancy takes it;

poverty and power

it melts them like ice.

Fate - monstrous and empty,

you whirling wheel,

you are malevolent,

well-being is in vain

and always fades to nothing,

shadowed and veiled

you plague me too;

how through the game

I bring my bare back

to your villainy.

Fate is against me in health

and virtue,

driven on and weighted down,

always enslaved.

So at this hour without delay

pluck the vibrating strings;

since Fate strikes down

the strong man,

everyone weep with me!

I bemoan the wounds of Fortune

with weeping eyes,

for the gifts she made me

she perversely takes away.

It is written in truth,

that she has a fine head of hair,

but, when it comes to seizing

an opportunity,

she is bald.

It is written in truth,

that she has a fine head of hair,

but, when it comes to seizing

an opportunity,

she is bald.

On Fortune's throne

I used to sit raised up,

crowned with the many-coloured

flowers of prosperity;

though I may have flourished

happy and blessed,

now I fall from the peak

deprived of glory.

Though I may have flourished

happy and blessed,

now I fall from the peak

deprived of glory.

The wheel of Fortune turns:

I go down, demeaned;

another is raised up;

far too high up

sits the king at the summit-

let him fear ruin!

For under the axis is written

Queen Hecuba.

Sits the king at the summit-

let him fear ruin!

For under the axis is written

Queen Hecuba.

The merry face of spring

turns to the world,

sharp winter

now flees, vanquished;

bedecked in various colours

Flora reigns,

the harmony of the woods

praises her in song.

Ah...

Lying in Flora's lap

Phoebus once more

smiles, now covered

in many-coloured flowers,

Zephyr breathes nectar-

scented breezes.

Let us rush to compete

for love's prize.

Ah...

In harp-like tones sings

the sweet nightingale,

with many flowers

the joyous meadows are laughing,

a flock of birds rises up

through the pleasant forests,

the chorus of maidens

already promises a thousand joys.

Ah...

The sun warms everything,

pure and gentle,

once again it reveals to the world

April's face,

the soul of man

is urged towards love

and joys are governed

by the boy-god.

All this rebirth

in spring's festivity

and spring's power

bids us to rejoice;

it shows us paths we know well,

and in your springtime

it is true and right

to keep what is yours.

Love me faithfully!

See how I am faithful:

with all my heart

and with all my soul,

I am with you

even when I am far away.

Whoever loves this much

turns on the wheel.

Behold, the pleasant

Behold, the pleasant and longed-for

spring brings back joyfulness,

Behold, the pleasant and longed-for

spring brings back joyfulness,

violet flowers fill the meadows,

the sun brightens everything,

sadness is now at an end! Summer

returns, now withdraw the rigours

of winter. Sadness is now at an end!

Summer returns, now withdraw...

Summer returns, now withdraw

Summer returns, now withdraw

the rigours of winter.

Ah...

Now melts

Now melts and disappears

ice, snow and the rest,

Now melts and disappears

ice, snow and the rest,

winter flees, and now

spring sucks at summer's breast:

A wretched soul is he who does not

live or lust under summer's rule.

A wretched soul is he who does not

live or lust under summer's rule.

Who does not live or lust

who does not live or lust

under summer's rule.

Ah...

They glory

They glory and rejoice

in honeyed sweetness

They glory and rejoice

in honeyed sweetness

who strive to make use of

Cupid's prize;

at Venus' command let us glory

and rejoice in being Paris' equals.

At Venus' command let us glory

and rejoice in being Paris' equals.

Let us glory and rejoice

let us glory and rejoice

in being Paris' equals.

Ah...

The noble woods are burgeoning

The noble woods are burgeoning

with flowers, with flowers...

and...

And leaves.

Leaves, leaves.

Where is the lover

the lover I knew, the lover I knew?

Where is the lover

the lover I knew, the lover I knew,

the lover I knew?

Ah!

He, he, he has ridden off!

He has ridden off! He has ridden off!

He has ridden off!...

Oh...

Oh...

Oh! Who will love me?

Ah...

The woods are burgeoning all over,

The woods are burgeoning all over,

for my lover,

for my lover,

for my lover I am...

lam...

lam pining, I am pining,

lam pining.

The woods are turning green

all over, all over,

why is my lover

away so long, away so long?

Ah...

He, he, he has ridden off,

ridden off, ridden off,

ridden off, ridden off...

Oh woe, oh woe,

oh woe, who will love me?

Ah...

Shopkeeper, give me colour

to make my cheeks red,

so that I can make the young men

love me, against their will.

Look at me, young men!

Let me please you!

Look at me, young men!

Let me please you!

Good men, love

women worthy of love!

Love ennobles your spirit

And gives you honour.

Look at me, young men!

Let me please you!

Look at me, young men!

Let me please you!

Hail, world,

so rich in joys!

I will be obedient to you

because of the pleasures you afford.

Look at me, young men!

Let me please you!

Look at me, young men!

Let me please you!

Those who go round and round

Those who go round and round

are all maidens,

are all maidens,

they want to do without a man

they want to do without a man

all, all, all

all summer long.

Ah! Sla!

Come, come, my love,

I long for you,

I long for you,

come, come, my love.

Sweet rose-red lips,

come and make me better,

come and make me better,

sweet rose-red lips.

Those who go round and round

Those who go round and round

are all maidens,

are all maidens,

they want to do without a man

they want to do without a man

all, all, all,

all summer long.

Ah! Sla!

If all the world were mine

from the sea to the Rhine,

I would do without it

I would do without it

if the Queen of England

of England

would lie...

in my arms.

Hey!

Burning inside with violent anger,

bitterly I speak to my heart:

created from matter,

of the ashes of the elements,

lam like a leaf

played with by the winds.

If it is the way of the wise man

to build foundations on stone, then

lam a fool, like a flowing stream,

which in its course never changes.

I am carried along

like a ship without a steersman,

and in the paths of the air

like a light, hovering bird;

chains cannot hold me,

keys cannot imprison me,

I look for people like me

and join the wretches.

The heaviness of my heart

seems a burden to me;

it is pleasant to joke

and sweeter than honeycomb;

whatever Venus commands

is a sweet duty,

she never dwells

in a lazy heart.

I travel the broad path

as is the way of youth,

I give myself to vice,

unmindful of virtue,

I am eager for

the pleasures of the flesh

more than for salvation,

my soul is dead,

so I shall look after the flesh.

Once

I lived on lakes,

once

I looked beautiful

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