VII
To the same lady, concerning flowers placed upon the altar
The world is bound fast by the ice of winter's cold, and all the brightness of the field perishes for want of a flower. In the springtime, when the Lord conquered Tartarus, the grass rises up, more joyful when its foliage is unfurled. From this the men adorn the doorposts and the pulpits with flowers, and from this the woman fills her bosom with the scent of roses. But you bear these fragrances not for yourselves but for Christ, and these first-fruits too you give to the holy temples. You have covered the festal altars with garlands of many kinds, so that the altar is painted with fresh flowers as though with threads. Here a golden row issues forth in saffron-blooms, there a purple one in violets; here the scarlet glows red, there the milk-white gleams like snow. The sea-blue stands against the leek-green: the colors do battle through the flowers, and in this place of peace you would think there were grassy wars. This one pleases by its whiteness, that one sparkles with a glowing grace; this one breathes more sweetly, that one blushes more beautifully. Thus by the varied appearance of the flowers the buds contend among themselves, so that here the color outdoes gems, and the fragrance outdoes incense. And you too, Agnes together with Radegund, who arrange these things, may your fragrance breathe with everlasting flowers.
VII
Ad eandem de floribus super altare
Frigoris hiberni glacie constringitur orbis
totaque lux agri flore carente perit.
tempore vernali, dominus quo Tartara vicit,
surgit aperta suis laetior herba comis.
inde viri postes et pulpita floribus ornant,
hinc mulier roseo conplet odore sinum.
at vos non vobis, sed Christo fertis odores,
has quoque primitias ad pia templa datis.
texistis variis altaria festa coronis,
pingitur ut filis floribus ara novis.
aureus ordo crocis, violis hinc blatteus exit,
coccinus hinc rubricat, lacteus inde nivet.
stat prasino venetus: pugnant et flore colores.
inque loco pacis herbida bella putas.
haec candore placet, rutilo micat illa decore;
suavius haec redolet, pulchrius illa rubet.
sic specie varia florum sibi germina certant,
ut color hic gemmas, tura revincat odor.
vos quoque quae struitis haec, Agnes cum Radegunde,
floribus aeternis vester anhelet odor.
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VII To the same lady, concerning flowers placed upon the altar
The world is bound fast by the ice of winter's cold, and all the brightness of the field perishes for want of a flower. In the springtime, when the Lord conquered Tartarus, the grass rises up, more joyful when its foliage is unfurled. From this the men adorn the doorposts and the pulpits with flowers, and from this the woman fills her bosom with the scent of roses. But you bear these fragrances not for yourselves but for Christ, and these first-fruits too you give to the holy temples. You have covered the festal altars with garlands of many kinds, so that the altar is painted with fresh flowers as though with threads. Here a golden row issues forth in saffron-blooms, there a purple one in violets; here the scarlet glows red, there the milk-white gleams like snow. The sea-blue stands against the leek-green: the colors do battle through the flowers, and in this place of peace you would think there were grassy wars. This one pleases by its whiteness, that one sparkles with a glowing grace; this one breathes more sweetly, that one blushes more beautifully. Thus by the varied appearance of the flowers the buds contend among themselves, so that here the color outdoes gems, and the fragrance outdoes incense. And you too, Agnes together with Radegund, who arrange these things, may your fragrance breathe with everlasting flowers.
AI-assisted translation - This translation was produced with AI assistance and has not been peer-reviewed. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek below for scholarly use.
Latin / Greek Original
VII Ad eandem de floribus super altare Frigoris hiberni glacie constringitur orbis totaque lux agri flore carente perit. tempore vernali, dominus quo Tartara vicit, surgit aperta suis laetior herba comis. inde viri postes et pulpita floribus ornant, hinc mulier roseo conplet odore sinum. at vos non vobis, sed Christo fertis odores, has quoque primitias ad pia templa datis. texistis variis altaria festa coronis, pingitur ut filis floribus ara novis. aureus ordo crocis, violis hinc blatteus exit, coccinus hinc rubricat, lacteus inde nivet. stat prasino venetus: pugnant et flore colores. inque loco pacis herbida bella putas. haec candore placet, rutilo micat illa decore; suavius haec redolet, pulchrius illa rubet. sic specie varia florum sibi germina certant, ut color hic gemmas, tura revincat odor. vos quoque quae struitis haec, Agnes cum Radegunde, floribus aeternis vester anhelet odor.