Text.BP190.!7v

From Theatrum Paracelsicum
‘Artis spagyricae ad lectorem prosopopoeia’,
Poem
no date [1582]

Source: Paracelsus, Centum quindecim curationes experimentaque, ed. Bernard Gilles Penot, Lyon: Jean Lertout, 1582, sig. ¶7v [BP190]


Summary: The author appeals to the muses and the laurel of honor, lamenting that his artistic and intellectual endeavors have not won him the companionship and rivalry of peers. He describes the physical efforts and the aesthetic appeal of his work, suggesting that if his appearance and talents do not attract followers, perhaps his wealth might. The plea is a call for recognition and engagement in a scholarly or artistic dialogue, emphasizing the value of constructive criticism and learning over mere disdain for others' works. (generated by ChatGPT)



Text

[sig. ¶7v] Artis spagyricæ ad lectorem prosopopœia.

Frvstra Pierides opem tulistis,
Vitta quæque meum liget decenter
Ornastis lepidum caput decora,
Tot ni deliciæ, tot aut lepores
Riuales mihi iam dedant amicos.
Ergo fronte meos terendo quærens
Nodus qui redimit tenus capillos
Dum piget mediam videre: tantum
Decus sollicitæ iacere noli.
Et te ni facies mouet, decénsque
Rubor, ni roseo cadens ab ore,
Saltem diuitiæ meæ beare
Quem possunt, faciant precor sodalem.

Verteuillius Burdegalensis.

Hunc non sperne librum, vel nos meliora doceto.
Nam turpe est alios carpere, scire nihil.

Modern English Raw Translation

Generated by ChatGPT on 15 February 2024. 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.
Spagyric artist's personification to the reader.

In vain did you, Muses, bring help, and you, Laurel, who decently binds my head, have adorned my charming head with decorations. Unless so many delights, so many charms, would now yield me friends as rivals. Therefore, by rubbing my forehead searching for the knot that binds up to the hair while it displeases to see the middle: just let not such beauty lie neglected in worry. And if not the face moves you, and not the fitting blush, nor the one falling from a rosy mouth, at least may my wealth, which can make happy, please make him a companion, I pray.

Verteuillius of Bordeaux.

Do not scorn this book, or teach us better things. For it is shameful to criticize others and know nothing.