Knights of Tezoth

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Count Orlov
-- We often deem the simple as absurd, and white appears to us as black? These words are dangerous in times of turmoil. They can turn to great evil, and until I study the work in detail, I forbid you to publish it further! -- Ambrose concluded decisively, striking the floor with the butt of his spear, but after a moment he softened slightly. -- Yet I do not wish you ruin, and so that the work of printing may continue, I am ready to offer a couple of manuscripts as if in suggestion. Perhaps my biography, or sirventes full of courage, or a genre akin to "fantasy in verse" might distract the people of the capital and other lands from dark and barren thoughts for a time.
- I would be most grateful for any fruits of your writing, my lord. - The director did not dwell on the fact that the work under discussion had been published several decades ago, and thus it was already a bit late to withdraw it from circulation.

-- And if printed copies remain that have not yet entered sale, I must place a veto on them. Fortunately, I recently wrote a work about the past and have it with me now, -- Ambrose, handing the biography to the director, settled with a leisurely air at the nearest table. -- There is a bit of work here behind the collection, and in the evening I will send my servant to you with another of my creations.

Spring Sirventes

***
When evil tongues insist to us
That truth in this world cannot be found,
That good is evil, and truth a mirage.
We drink only grief from fate's cup.
It is easy for a coward to forget in sorrow,
For a fool to wave his hand, heeding his belly,
And for a serf to shift his hut to the edge
But it befits the wise to cast aside
All thoughts of their own futility and weakness.
Though the axe be small, it fells the mighty oak,
If diligence and fury are applied.
Life is war, inaction is suffering,
Do nothing -- and deeds will be done upon you
Such punishments, intrigues, villainies
That you will dream of death with longing

He who hides from storms will be the first to perish
An inglorious death of a coward and a fool.
But the happiness of the valiant will be boundless
When they escape the wiles of the cunning,
The claws of betrayal that penetrate the soul,
The vicious lies about the beacons of the realm
Remember your fathers' precepts!
The most terrible of vices is cowardice.
Betrayal is the worst of sins.

***
Worthy of praise is he,
Who is ready both to strike and fall!
Only that knight pleases me,
Who bravely on his steed
Strives first to receive
And inflict many terrible blows,
And by his own fierce example
He pours the oil of blood into the forge of battle,
And a mountain of slain bodies rises,
Groaning in agony -- such is the knight's lot!
I love chaos and rivers of blood!
These are the delights of war!
My soul rejoices when
Shattered bones are countless
In a terrible heap of men and horses
Then the feast is sweet to the eyes
At the sight of battle studies
When all eagerly rush into the thick of the fray
And do not stand aside like little rats.
Our first task here is to multiply glory
And the second -- to give joy to the lady.
And both of these endeavors are unsuccessful
When we are poor in courage.

***
Many worthy maidens and women I have had occasion to see
My eye is sensitive to visible beauty
But too rarely did anything captivate my mind
And my heart remained in silence

But here I see a lady who is close to the crown of elegance
Here everything is beautiful and pleasing to the soul
Down to the secret of her crimson eyes, which promise
Both ruin and delight evermore

The flow of her refined speech is ready to outshine
All other flowers of today's amusements
If only I could be so eloquent!
I would surely prove that I am right
Awarding the victory to Alcyre d'Arcrede

***
Let the most worthy of women be praised
Now by worthy vassals
May I be cursed if I lie
That fate has not sent us a happier day

Years will pass, the right hand will weaken
Time will silver the hair
But remembering the radiance of Deus
We will remain forever young

Life will surely send us a killer
Unfulfilled dreams sting like a snake
But festivities, so pleasing to the heart
Were worth all the vicissitudes of existence

Let us celebrate, and glorify fate
Let us taste the sparkling wine
It will do no harm, the soul is already drunk with delight
From the sight of Deus

***

Sir Ambrose Turbon

E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza,
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers

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