Bertrand de Born

A noble pride in all his features,
Upon his brow thought's furrowed score,
The hearts of men were but his creatures:
Bertrand de Born, the troubadour.

He lured the lioness and caught her,
The queen of the Plantagenet;
Both sons he won, he won the daughter:
He sang them all into his net.

And how he fooled the king and stirred him!
In tears would melt his rage and scorn,
If, sweet discoursing, he but heard him:
The troubadour, Bertrand de Born.
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Author of original: 
Heinrich Heine
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