Dame, ensi est qu'il m'en convient aler,
Et departir de la doce contrée,
Ou tant ai mauz soffers et endurez;
Quant je vos lais, droiz est, que je m'en hée:
Dex! porquoi fu la terre d'outremer,
Qui tant amans aura fait desevrer,
Dont puis ne fu l'amour reconforté,
Ne ne porent lor joie remembrer?

Lady, the fates command, and I must go,— Leaving the pleasant land so dear to me:
Here my heart suffer'd many a heavy woe; But what is left to love, thus leaving thee?
Alas! that cruel land beyond the sea! Why thus dividing many a faithful heart,
Never again from pain and sorrow free, Never again to meet, when thus they part?