Single Emblem View

Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [Fff4v p824]

Amor filiorum.

Love of one’s children

EMBLEMA CXCIV.

Ante diem vernam boreali cana palumbes
Frigore nidificat, praecoqua & ova fovet:
Mollius & pulli ut iaceant, sibi vellicat alas,
Queis nuda hiberno deficit ipsa gelu.[1]
Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [Fff5r p825]Ecquid Colchi pudet, vel te Progne improba? mortem
Cųm volucris propriae prolis amore subit?[2]

Before the day of spring, the wood-pigeon, all white with winter snow, builds her nest and cherishes her premature eggs. To make her chicks lie more softly, she plucks her own wing-feathers, and stripped of them, she herself perishes from the wintry frost. Woman of Colchis, do you feel any shame? Or you, heartless Procne? - when a bird submits to death out of love for her own off-spring.

Notes:

1.  This is based on Anthologia graeca 9.95.

2.  Both Medea (the woman of Colchis) and Procne killed their own children. They are the legendary infamous child-killers. See [A21a070] n. for Procne, [A21a054] n. for Medea.


Related Emblems

Show related emblems Show related emblems

Hint: You can set whether related emblems are displayed by default on the preferences page


Iconclass Keywords

Relating to the image:

Relating to the text:

Hint: You can turn translations and name underlining on or off using the preferences page.

Single Emblem View

Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [Fff3v p822]

In foecunditatem sibi ipsi damnosam.

Fruitfulness bringing its own destruction

EMBLEMA CXCIII.

Ludibrium pueris lapides iacientibus, hoc me
In trivio posuit rustica cura nucem:
Quae laceris ramis, perstrictoque ardua libro,
Certatim fundis per latus omne petor.
Quid sterili posset contingere turpius? Eheu
Infelix, fructus in mea damna fero.[1]

A countryman’s care placed me, a nut tree, at this cross-roads, where I am the butt of stone-throwing boys. I have grown tall, but my branches are broken, my bark bruised, I am attacked with sling-stones, competing on every side. What worse fate could befall a barren tree? Alas, cursed tree that I am, I bear fruit to my own destruction.

Notes:

1.  This is a translation of Anthologia graeca 9.3, see also Aesop, Fables 152.


Related Emblems

Show related emblems Show related emblems

Hint: You can set whether related emblems are displayed by default on the preferences page


Iconclass Keywords

Relating to the image:

Relating to the text:

Hint: You can turn translations and name underlining on or off using the preferences page.

 

Back to top