The Lover the Letters Were For (Paramour)

Lyrics

[Intro]

[Verse 1]
In the great hall of the Castle of Poitiers, 1172,
Eleanor of Aquitaine, born 1122, died 1204,
patron of those songs that twist the heart.
She was thirty then, married to Henry II,
but the poets sang of love outside the vow.
Chrétien de Troyes, flourishing 1160 to 1191,
wrote Lancelot, the Knight of the Cart,
where love is war, no place for cowards.

[Chorus]
Paramour, from par amour, by way of love,
the dearly-beloved, the illicit one.
Hidden letters, parchment tied with crimson ribbon,
under an embroidered cushion in the solar at midnight.
The scent of lavender sachet, musty stone walls,
cool dampness of early spring chambers.

[Verse 2]
A quill pen dips into oak gall ink,
scribing words for the absent one.
My heart bound by chains no iron forges,
I await as the rose awaits dawn.
Andreas Capellanus, circa 1180,
in The Art of Courtly Love, commissioned by Marie de Champagne,
says love is inborn suffering from excessive meditation
on the beauty that pulls you under.

[Bridge]
The knight's lance bears her favor, a silken ribbon,
in the tournament of 1172, public secret.
Honeyed figs and spiced wine in the garden alcove,
shared at twilight, whispers flushing warm against the cool.
Eleanor encouraged the poets, their mirrors to our torments.

[Verse 3]
The horse-drawn litter, draped in velvet,
carries her to the grove, discreet path through the woods.
Unnamed ladies-in-waiting carry the messages,
their names lost, like pseudonyms in the poems—
The Rose, My Fair Falcon, veils over the real.
What was whispered by candlelight, beeswax sweet,
lute strings vibrating in the hush.

[Chorus]
Paramour, from par amour, by way of love,
the dearly-beloved, the illicit one.
Hidden letters, parchment tied with crimson ribbon,
under an embroidered cushion in the solar at midnight.
The scent of lavender sachet, musty stone walls,
cool dampness of early spring chambers.

[Outro]
The letters were for you, paramour,
by way of love, illicit and dear.