Song (12th Century)

My heart's so filled with deep delight
it changes all I see.
The frost appears a blossom of white,
golden or green, to me.
When the wind blows up the rain, it's right:
my fortune sprouts with the tree.
So thrives my worth with freshening might
and my song gains loftier glee.
Such is my love and such the power
of joy and sweetness in its dower,
each icicle seems to me a flower
and the snow the greenery.

-- Bernart de Ventadour (12th cent.)
transl. Jack Lindsay