Three Stanzas of the Sirvente on Rome

Lo, a song I sing
With melody that pleases,
Hence vain dallying,
Since speech my bosom eases.
Him that thus would sing
I wot swift vengeance seizes;
Nathless I will rise
'Gainst that Head of lies,
Rome, whom all despise,
Foul source of all diseases
Whereof virtue dies.

Rome, deceiver dread,
Who gold alone reverest,
From thy sheep unfed
Full close the wool thou shearest.
He, whose blood was shed,
And to mankind is dearest,
He whom now I seek
Break thy rav'nous beak.
Rome, as traitress sleek
And liar thou appearest
To Latin and to Greek.

Rome, on flesh of weak
And foolish men thou feedest,
Blind ones guidance seek.
Whom in the ditch thou leadest;
God's commandment eke
Methinks thou little heedest;
Since by lust of gold
Pardons thou hast sold
Unto sinners bold;
Rome, great strength thou needest
Sin's burden to uphold.