Poem, no date (1570), by Olivier Antoine (BP114)
| Author: | Olivier, Antoine |
| Type: | Poem |
| Date: | no date [1570] |
| Pages: | 1 |
| Language: | French |
| Quote as: | https://www.theatrum-paracelsicum.com/index.php?curid=2071 |
| Editor: | Edited by Julian Paulus |
| Source: | Paracelsus, De la peste, et de ses causes et accidents, ed. Pierre Hassard, Antwerpen: Christophe Plantin 1570, p. 17 [BP114]
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| Translation: | Raw translation see below |
| Back to Paratexts Back to Texts by Olivier, Antoine |
[p. 17] Anthoine Olivier svr l’art incomparable de Paracelsvs povr gverir de la Peste.
Sonet.
Dvrant le siecle heureux, que les herbes & plantes
Produisoyent de leur gré leurs naturels tresors:
Et que l’auare encore pour ses tresors tres-ordz,
N’eut playé du grand Rond, les veines abundantes:
Les halenations de ses playes puantes,
N’auoyent pestiferé encor’ les humains corps.
Mais les playes croissant & les pestes des lors,
Les personnes le payent qui sont plus innocentes.
Cent mill’ en vng moment, sonz mortz de ceste rage,
Et mourroient plus, si Dieu pitoyable en nostre eage,
Ne nous auoit porduit ce noble & diuin art:
Que Paracelse escrit, (chose non plus ouye)
Auqel l’Alleman doibt l’entretien de sa vie,
Et nous n’en deuons moins au traducteur Hassart.
English Raw Translation
Generated by ChatGPT-4 on 7 April 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.
Anthoine Olivier on the incomparable art of Paracelsus for curing the Plague.
During the blessed century, when herbs and plants willingly produced their natural treasures: And when the greedy one, for his very ordinary treasures, had not yet exploited the abundant veins of the great Circle: The exhalations of his foul-smelling wounds had not yet spread disease to human bodies. But as the wounds grew and the plagues began, the most innocent people paid the price. A hundred thousand in one moment died from this rage, and more would have perished, if God, in His mercy in our era, had not brought forth this noble and divine art: As Paracelsus wrote (a thing unheard of before), to which the German owes the preservation of his life, and we owe no less to the translator Hassart.
