From: bq434@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Michael A. Chance)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: Minnesang
Date: 28 Sep 1992 17:16:06 GMT
Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, OH (USA)
Reply-To: bq434@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Michael A. Chance)
NNTP-Posting-Host: hela.ins.cwru.edu


The following was originally posted on MEDTEXT-L by James Marchand
(marchand@ux1.cso.uiuc.edu).  It is re-posted here with permission.

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One of the nicest things about teaching the Middle Ages is that you get to
read great literature.  I am teaching an introductory course this semester,
and we have been reading Minnesang out of a dreary little book which did not
choose my favorites, so I made up some handouts for the class.  I thought you
might lik them.  Unfortunately 7-bit ASCII is a great hindrance.  Thus, a^
means a with a housetop over it; o" means o-umlaut, ae means aesc, etc.  If
you use this as a handout, it will fit nicely on a page if you use something
like 10-point Century Schoolbook, or if you use landscape.  The first poet is
Heinrich von Morungen; note the deft way he weaves the topoi of minnesang. He
says nothing new, but he says it well.  A Walther and a Wolfram later.  I'm
too good to you.

     Heinrich von Morungen

Owe^ war umbe volge ich tumbem wa^ne,
der mich so^ se^re leitet in die no^t?
Ich schiet von ir gar aller fro"iden a^ne,
daz si mir tro^st noch helfe nie gebo^t.
Doch wart ir varwe liljen wi^z und ro^sen ro^t.
und saz vor mir diu liebe wolgeta^ne
geblu"ejet rehte alsam ein voller ma^ne.
Daz was der ougen wunne, des herzen to^t.

Mi^n ste^ter muot geli^chet niht dem winde:
ich bin noch alse si mich ha^t verla^n,
vil ste^te her von einem kleinen kinde,
swie we^ sie mir nu^ lange ha^t geta^n.
Alswi^gende ie geno^te u^f den verholnen wa^n,
swie dicke ich mich der to^rheit underwinde,
swa ich vor ir sta^n, und spru"che ein wunder vinde,
und muoz doch von ir ungesprochen ga^n.

Ich ha^n so^ vil gesprochen und gesungen
daz ich bin mu"ede und heis von mi^ner klage.
Ich bin umb niht wan umb den wint betwungen,
si^t si mir niht geloubet daz ich sage,
wie ich si minne und ich so^ holdez herze ir trage.
De^swa^r mir'n ist na^ch werde niht gelungen.
He^t ich na^ch gote ie halb so^ vil gerungen,
er ne^me mich hin z'im e^ mi^ner tage.

Alas, why do I follow this stupid folly (fol amor),
Which leads me so into distress?
I left her, bereft of all joy,
That she offered me neither aid nor comfort.
But her color was lily-white and rosy red.
And that dear beautiful person sat before me
Blossoming just like a full moon.
That was bliss to the eye, death to the heart.

My steadfast mind is not like the wind;
I am still like I was when she left me,
Quite true from the time I was a small child,
No matter how much she has hurt me so long.
Saying nothing, though desirous of the hidden
madness, As often as I take on that foolishness
When I stand before her and think of a million things to say,
And still must leave her having said nothing.

I have said and sung so much
That I am tired and hoarse from my plaint,
I have struggled for nothing but wind,
Since she does not believe me when I say
How much I love her and what a loving heart I bear for her.
To be sure, I have not succeeded as I ought.
If I had striven for God half as much,
He would have taken me to Him before my time.

Owe^, sol aber mir iemer me^
geliuhten dur die naht
noch wi^zer denne ein sne^
ir li^p vil wol geslaht?
Der trouc die ougen mi^n:
ich wa^nde ez solde si^n
des liehten ma^nen schi^n;
   do^ tagete ez.

`Owe^, sol aber iemer me^
den morgen hie betagen?
Als uns diu naht enge^
daz wir niht durfen klagen:
"owe^, nu^ ist ez tac,"
als er mit klage pflac
do er jungest bi^ mir lac;
   do^ tagete ez.

Owe^, si kuste a^ne zal
in deme sla^fe mich.
Do^ vielen hin ze tal
ir tre^ne nider sich;
iedoch getro^ste ich sie,
daz si ir weinen lie
und mich alumbevie
   do^ tagete ez.

`Owe^, daz er so^ dicke sich
bi^ mir ersehen ha^t!
Als er endahte mich,
so^ wolte er sunder wa^t
m!n arme schouwen blo^z.
Es waz ein wunder gro^z
daz in des nie verdro^z:
   do^ tagete ez.'

Alas, and shall evermore
Glow through the night
Whiter yet than snow
Her body so well-formed?
It fooled my eyes
I thought that it might be
The glow of the bright moon;
   Then came the dawn.

`Alas, and shall evermore
Morning dawn on us here?
That night will leave us,
And we not be able to complain:
"Alas, now day has come,"
As he did, complaining,
As he recently lay beside me;
   Then came the dawn.

`Alas, she kissed me
A million times in my sleep.
Then fell down
Her tears;
However, I comforted her,
So that she left off her crying
And embraced me totally.
   Then came the dawn.

`Alas, that he so often
Looked at me!
When he uncovered me,
Then he wanted to look at poor me
Without any clothes on.
It was a grand wonder
That he never tired of that.
   Then came the dawn.

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-- 
Michael A. Chance          St. Louis, Missouri, USA    "At play in the fields
Work: mc3078@sw1sta.sbc.com                             of St. Vidicon"
Play: bq434@cleveland.freenet.edu
      mchance@nyx.cs.du.edu
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca