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Subtilitas Amoris [26]


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52 ↓
Subtilitas Amoris.translation
XXVI.
Ioan. Fab. Cat. {?}cit.
NIhil efficacius aquâ ad exstinguendum ignem:
verū est & bene dixit Hugo de Sancto Victo-
re: approbo lachrimas, laudo fletus: sed eheu! ni-
hil prodesse mihi possunt; Amor meus est occul-
tus quidam ignis, qui in pectus admissus & cor
vrit, & velut venenum per venas currit, ipsisqueue
inhærens ossibus, medullas vorat. nescitur vbi me
calceus vrget. palam compositus pudor, intus
summa adipiscendi libido. translation

Cat.
Virgil.
Fulgeat vt lætis vagina coloribus extra,
Intus iô! ruptus fulgure mucro latet.
Saucia corda gero, vestigia nulla sagittæ;
Et iecur illæso corpore vulnus habet:
Vulnus habet? fallor, quod enim sine vulnere vulnus?
Hei mihi cæcus Amor vulnera cæca facit.
Non fallor
Viuit pectore sub dolente vulnus;
Intactis vorat ossibus medullas,
Vesano tacitos mouet furores
Quod Chironia nec manus leuaret,
Nec Phœbus, sobolesque chara Phœbi. translation

Scio quid faciam; hoc malum non curatur
melius quam fugiendo. translation

[52a] ↓

Sine vulnere lædor translation

Foudre, et flambeau d'amour, feu de facon estrange,
Qui sans toucher le sein, au coeur aymant se range.

53 ↓
Subtilitéde l'Amour.
XXVI.
Ie ne t'entens Amour, si tu ne m'interprete,
Comme ta flamme faict la playe si secrete,
Qu' elle me faict mourir, sans quasi la sentir.
Estce que ton humeur est de tāt plus cruelle,
Ton feu plus dangereux, ta playe plus mortelle,
Que le mal qu' ou en sent, ne se peut descouurir?

Tales son Amor tur rayos
Que sin señalar herida
Dexan al Alma sin vida.

Siet 's liefdes blixem/ ende hant/
Laet 't lichaem gaef/ als 't herte brant.

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52

[52a]

53

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Translations

Acuteness of love.
Nothing puts out fire more efficiently than water. It is true and has been well said by Hugo of St. Victor: I approve of tears, I praise weeping. But o! They are no good to me at all. My love is a kind of hidden fire that gained entrance to my breast and burns my heart, and runs like poison through my veins, and clinging to my very bones devours my marrow. It is unknown in which direction my steps are forcing me. On the outside I behave respectfully, inside there is total desire to get what I want.
How the sheath shines outside with cheerful colours,
But o! Inside the point of a sword is hidden broken by lightning.
I bear a wounded heart in me, but there are no traces of the arrow.
he has a wound? I am mistaken, for what wound is wound-less?
Oh! Love that cannot see gives me wounds nobody can see.
The wound lives deep inside the sorrowful breast,
Devours the marrow inside bones that remain untouched.
It causes rage, you become insane.
It is so, that neither Chiron's hands can alleviate, nor Apollo, nor Apollo's dear offspring.
I know what I am doing. But by this my ills are not cured any better than if I run away from it.
I am being hurt without incurring a wound.

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    Iconclass

    Lightning strikes the sword that a girl is holding in front of her

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