Poem, no date (1562), Georg Fedro to Hans Kilian
| Author: | Georg Fedro |
| Recipient: | Hans Kilian |
| Type: | Poem |
| Date: | no date [1562] |
| Pages: | 1 |
| Language: | Latin |
| Quote as: | https://www.theatrum-paracelsicum.com/index.php?curid=2003 |
| Editor: | Edited by Julian Paulus |
| Source: | Georg Fedro, Aquila coelestis siue correcta hydrargryi praecipitatio, Ingolstadt: Alexander und Samuel Weißenhorn 1562, sig. A1v [BP.Fedro.1562-01]
|
| Translation: | Raw translation see below |
| Back to Paratexts Back to Texts by Georg Fedro |
[sig. A1v] Aqvilæ coelestis ode.
Inclyta quæ summi quondam Iouis ales habebar,
Delitæq́ue Deûm,
Et nitida cœli gemmantis in arce morabar,
Aethereoue choro.
Sedibus exturbata meis ergastula terræ
Nunc peregrina colo,
Et data mancipio teneor seruilis acerba
Conditione iugi.
Hinc mala tabificæ purgo contagia pestis
Aère fusanouo:
Hydropis & diri uacuo squalentia stagna
Sordifluosq́ue lacus:
Chiragræ uarios motus, tophosque podagræ
Vindice soluo manu:
Et quæ callosis figit nigricantia labris
Vlcera cancer edax:
Rosio quosque sinus affatim pure fluentes
Texta Syringis agit.
Quisquis idcircò prudens felicibus Horis
Contrahe uela rogo,
Nec laxa nimium, medio cum tramite recti
Rectius ire queas.
Nam plerunque graues casus excelsa minantur,
Magnaq́ue probra ferunt,
Et quæ semper iniqua fuit mihi sors, tibi fortè
Aequior esse potest.
English Raw Translation
Generated by ChatGPT-4 on 22 March 2023. Attention: This translation is a machine translation by artificial intelligence. The translation has not been checked and should not be cited without additional human verification.
Ode to the Celestial Eagle
Once I was the illustrious bird of mighty Jupiter,
And the delight of the gods,
I dwelt in the shining citadel of the gem-studded sky,
In the ethereal choir.
Driven from my abode, now I wander the earth's prison,
A foreigner to my own realm,
Bound by the harsh servitude of my imposed condition,
Constantly constrained.
From here I cleanse the harmful, plague-spreading contagion
With fresh, purifying air;
I clear the swollen pools of the dreaded, stagnant waters
And their filthy, muddy lakes.
I release the various movements of gout, the lumps of podagra,
With my avenging hand,
And the blackening sores that the ravenous cancer inflicts
On hardened, calloused lips.
I also drive the rosy streams that flow abundantly,
Guided by the syringe's touch.
Therefore, I beseech the wise to sail with the favorable Hours,
And not to loosen their course too much.
For in the middle path of righteousness,
You may journey more rightly still.
For the lofty often threaten grave misfortunes,
And bring great disgrace.
And the fate that has always been unjust to me, perhaps,
Could be fairer to you.
