6 Hora Cridar Oyme

anon from the Mellon Chansonier (~1475)
Hora cridar “oyme” posso ben yo, Et consumarre in pianti ly ochi mey. Poy che veder piu ley Non posso, Oyme, meschin comme solea. O lingua maledicta, iniqua e rea, Que state sey cassone de tanto male. Tu m’ay conducto a tale Que vivere m’e venuto en displacere. Se yo non credessi piu poder videre, Comme soleva el myo caro thesoro, Cum un capistro d’oro, Al collo in alto finiria la vita mya.	And now I can well cry, “Alas” And my eyes be consumed in tears Because I can no longer see you, alas, Miserable as I am. O damned, iniquitous tongue, Which is the reason for such evil, You have led me so That life is now displeasure. Should I no longer be able to see you, My dear treasure, like a golden harness, Hanging high from the neck, I shall finish my life.