https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/en\/moon-sun-eclipse-antikythera-mechanism )<\/a><\/p>\n\n\tHe says in Fables, CCXLII:<\/em><\/p>\n\n\t…..Pyramus in Babylonia ob amorem Thisbes ipse se occidit…
\n\t Pyramus in Babylonia out of love for Thisbe killed himself.<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\tCCXLII Qui se ipsi interfecerunt<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tCCXLIII Thisbe Babylonia propter Pyramum quod ipse se interfecerat.
\n\t Thisbe of Babylon killed herself because Pyramus had killed himself.<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\tCCXLIII Quae se ipsae interfecerunt<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tBut he is the poet Ovid <\/em>who tells this story in Book IV of his work Metamorphoses<\/em>. We know of no author who told in advance and there are few who do later, some with some variation.<\/p>\n\n\tThe story is certainly of oriental origin, as evidenced its location in Babylon<\/em>. Certainly since Ovid <\/em> the story had remarkable success and was well known; before it seems that it was not known, judging by the words of Ovid<\/em>: "vulgaris fabula non est<\/em>" "it is not a popular story.<\/em>" In Late Antiquity<\/em> there is a slightly different version of Nonnus<\/em>, Latin author of the late IV or early of V century<\/em>, in his Dyonisiaca XII, 84 et seq<\/em>. He places it in Cilicia<\/em>, not in Babylon<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\tAugustine <\/em>presents us as one of the common themes that students have to develop as an exercise in studying rhetoric, which means that the issue was already well known. So he says, referring to the wall interposed between Pyramus and Thisbe <\/em>in his On Order, De ordine, 1,3,8:<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tI tell you, that I irritate myself when I see you singing and suffering with these verses of all kinds that stand between you and the truth a wall thicker than this one they strove to raise between your lovers; but they were connected by a hairline crack. He tried then to sing Pyramus)<\/strong><\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\tIrritor, inquam, abs te versus istos tuos omni metrorum genere cantando et ululando insectari, qui inter te atque veritatem immaniorem murum quam inter amantes tuos conantur erigere”. ; nam in se illi vel inolita rimula respirabant. Pyramum enim ille tum canere instituerat<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\tAnd then in the same De Ordine, 1,5,12<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tI tell you: so be it that you call me an irritating busybody; for surely I can not but be irritating if I have attack you when you talked with Pyramus and Thisbe …<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\tCui ego licet, inquam, me odiosum percontatorem voces; vix enim possum non esse,qui expugnavi me cum Pyramo et Thisbe coloqueris<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tIn the Middle Ages<\/em> it is commonplace as reference to "unhappy love<\/em>". The myth appears in all medieval European <\/em>literature: in Spain <\/em>and appears in The Fazienda overseas<\/em>, probably in the year 1153. In France <\/em>there are numerous examples; it is sufficient the Chretien de Troyes<\/em> in his Conte of Charrette<\/em>. Chaucer <\/em>in England <\/em>told the story in his The Legend of Good Women<\/em>. In Italy<\/em>, Boccaccio <\/em>summarizes the fable in his De claris mulieribus<\/em>, although the names of Pyramus <\/em>and Thisbe <\/em>not appear.<\/p>\n\n\tIn Spain <\/em>it has a minor presence in the Middle Ages<\/em> by the general lack of Ovid<\/em>, but it seems that the Marquis de Santillana<\/em> and Gomez Manrique had a translation of the Metamorphoses<\/em>. But since the Renaissance <\/em>there are dozens poets and literary authors who replicate the legend, of which are also numerous fictional romances that were sung in Spain <\/em>and Portugal<\/em>. Numerous editions and translations of Ovid <\/em>from the Renaissance <\/em>facilitated the direct relationship between authors and this legend.<\/p>\n\n\tI want to emphasize only two of Spanish <\/em>authors without going into the matter, because my interest at the moment is to provide readers with direct text of Ovide<\/em>; so they can enjoy an exciting literary narrative. These two authors are Cervantes<\/em>, who in his Don Quixote <\/em>makes three references to the unhappy love<\/em> affair: the story of Cardenio and Lucinda<\/em> in First Part (I, 23-24)<\/em>, and in the Second <\/em>the sonnet of Lorenzo Miranda<\/em>, son of The Knight of the Green Gaban, (II, 16-18) <\/em>and the episode of the Wedding of Camacho (II, 19,20 and 21) with the comic inversion of the fatal love.<\/p>\n\n\tI offer the Miranda’s Lorenzo sonnet<\/em>, because it is shorter:<\/p>\n\n\tThe lovely maid, she pierces now the wall;
\n\t Heart-pierced by her young Pyramus doth lie;
\n\t And Love spreads wing from Cyprus isle to fly,
\n\tA chink to view so wondrous great and small.
\n\tThere silence speaketh, for no voice at all
\n\t Can pass so strait a strait; but love will ply
\n\t Where to all other power 'twere vain to try;
\n\tFor love will find a way whate'er befall.
\n\tImpatient of delay, with reckless pace
\n\t The rash maid wins the fatal spot where she
\n\tSinks not in lover's arms but death's embrace.
\n\t So runs the strange tale, how the lovers twain
\n\tOne sword, one sepulchre, one memory,
\n\t Slays, and entombs, and brings to life again.<\/strong><\/em>
\n\t(Translated by John Ormsby)<\/p>\n\n\tEl muro rompe la doncella hermosa
\n\tque de Píramo abrió el gallardo pecho;
\n\tparte el Amor de Chipre y va derecho
\n\ta ver la quiebra estrecha y prodigiosa.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tHabla el silencio allí, porque no osa
\n\tLa voz entrar por tan estrecho estrecho;
\n\tlas almas sí, que amor suele de hecho
\n\tfacilitar la más difícil cosa<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tSaltó el deseo de compás y el paso
\n\tde la imprudente virgen solicita
\n\tpor su gusto su muerte. Ved qué historia;<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tQue a entrambos en un punto, ¡oh extraño caso!,
\n\tlos mata, los encubre y resucita
\n\tuna espada, un sepulcro, una memoria.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tThe other is Gongora<\/em>, who wrote the story, albeit humorous, or to be more precise, difficult to interpret, that is now known as the Enlightenment and Defense of the Fable of Pyramus and Thisbe<\/em> (1618). Gongora <\/em>had previously alluded to the theme of Pyramus and Thisbe<\/em> in one of the Letrillas <\/em>(a brief poem) in which the popular refrain 'let me go warm and the people may laugh” is repeated.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tBecause love is so cruel
\n\tthat thalamus makes a sword
\n\tof Pyamus and his love,
\n\twhere he and she together are,
\n\tlet be my Tisbe a cake
\n\tand let be the sword my tooth
\n\tand the people may laugh<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\tPues amor es tan cruel
\n\tque de Píramo y su amada
\n\thace tálamo una espada,
\n\tdo se junten ella y él,
\n\tsea mi Tisbe un pastel
\n\tya la espada sea mi diente
\n\ty ríase la gente.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tShakespeare<\/em>, meanwhile, recalls the story in the famous tragedy Romeo and Juliet <\/em>and with an ironic tone in "A Midsummer Night's Dream<\/em>", though specialists say that the English author does not was directly influenced by the work of Ovid<\/em>, but the influence came indirectly from Italian<\/em> authors from the poem by Arthur Brooke the Tragical Historye of Romeus and Juliet<\/em> and from translation of William Painter "Rhomeo and Julietta"<\/em>; these authors made use of a French <\/em>version of Pierre Boaiastou<\/em> which was based on Romeo and Giuletta <\/em>of Mateo Bandello <\/em>and a Giulietta e Romeo<\/em> of Luigi da Porto.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tBut Shakespeare <\/em>would have no difficulty in knowing such a popular topic in Europe<\/em>: Golding <\/em>had had translated the Metamorphoses <\/em>in 1567.<\/p>\n\n\tOf course the issue was relevant to other artists in addition to the letters, as painters and musicians, from ancient times to the present day.<\/p>\n
\n\tI offer only four examples of paintings on the theme: A first-century Pompeii<\/em>, one from a twelfth<\/em>-century Romanesque capital in Basel, one of the XVIII-XIX<\/em> and one absolutely contemporary<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\t![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/imgs\/arts\/p\u00edramo_1_recotada.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
\n\tPyramus and Thisbe represented in a fresco of the House of Octavius Cuartio (Pompeii). S. I d.C.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\t![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/imgs\/arts\/p\u00edramo_2_recortada.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
\n\tCloister of the Cathedral of Basel, late twelfth century, (with a Christian moralizing interpretation)<\/em><\/p>\n\n\t![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/imgs\/arts\/p\u00edramo_3_recortada.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
\n\tPierre-Claude Gautherot, (1769-1825),<\/em><\/p>\n\n\t![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/imgs\/arts\/p\u00edramo_4_recortada.jpg\")
<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tGabriel Alonso, painting published by the digital publishing One and Zero (http:\/\/unoyceroediciones.com\/)<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tExamples of music go from opera A Midsummer Night's Dream<\/em>, by Benjamin Britten<\/em> based on A Midsummer Night's Dream<\/em> or West Side Story <\/em>based on Romeo and Juliet<\/em> to the adaptation of the Beatles<\/em>, in which Paul McCartney<\/em> was Pyramus<\/em>, Thisbe <\/em>was John Lennon<\/em>, George Harrison<\/em> was the Moon <\/em>and Ringo Starr<\/em> was the lion<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\tBut enough of much scholarly considerations and inconsequential curiosities and let us allow the poet Ovid <\/em>to relate in detail the unfortunate history.<\/p>\n\n\tMetamorphoses, IV, 42…..54; 55-166<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tit pleased her sisters, and they ordered her
\n\tto tell the story that she loved the most.
\n\tSo, as she counted in her well-stored mind
\n\tthe many tales she knew, first doubted she
\n\twhether to tell the tale of Derceto,—
\n\tthat Babylonian, who, aver the tribes
\n\tof Palestine, in limpid ponds yet lives,—
\n\ther body changed, and scales upon her limbs;
\n\t…..
\n\tor of that tree
\n\twhich sometime bore white fruit, but now is changed
\n\tand darkened by the blood that stained its roots.—
\n\tPleased with the novelty of this, at once
\n\tshe tells the tale of Pyramus and Thisbe;—
\n\tand swiftly as she told it unto them,
\n\tthe fleecy wool was twisted into threads.
\n\tPYRAMUS AND THISBE
\n\tWhen Pyramus and Thisbe, who were known
\n\tthe one most handsome of all youthful men,
\n\tthe other loveliest of all eastern girls,—
\n\tlived in adjoining houses, near the walls
\n\tthat Queen Semiramis had built of brick
\n\taround her famous city, they grew fond,
\n\tand loved each other—meeting often there—
\n\tand as the days went by their love increased.
\n\tThey wished to join in marriage, but that joy
\n\ttheir fathers had forbidden them to hope;
\n\tand yet the passion that with equal strength
\n\tinflamed their minds no parents could forbid.
\n\tNo relatives had guessed their secret love,
\n\tfor all their converse was by nods and signs;
\n\tand as a smoldering fire may gather heat,
\n\tthe more 'tis smothered, so their love increased.
\n\tNow, it so happened, a partition built
\n\tbetween their houses, many years ago,
\n\twas made defective with a little chink;
\n\ta small defect observed by none, although
\n\tfor ages there; but what is hid from love?
\n\tOur lovers found the secret opening,
\n\tand used its passage to convey the sounds
\n\tof gentle, murmured words, whose tuneful note
\n\tpassed oft in safety through that hidden way.
\n\tThere, many a time, they stood on either side,
\n\tthisbe on one and Pyramus the other,
\n\tand when their warm breath touched from lip to lip,
\n\ttheir sighs were such as this: “Thou envious wall
\n\twhy art thou standing in the way of those
\n\twho die for love? What harm could happen thee
\n\tshouldst thou permit us to enjoy our love?
\n\tBut if we ask too much, let us persuade
\n\tthat thou wilt open while we kiss but once:
\n\tfor, we are not ungrateful; unto thee
\n\twe own our debt; here thou hast left a way
\n\tthat breathed words may enter loving ears.,”
\n\tso vainly whispered they, and when the night
\n\tbegan to darken they exchanged farewells;
\n\tmade presence that they kissed a fond farewell
\n\tvain kisses that to love might none avail.
\n\tWhen dawn removed the glimmering lamps of night,
\n\tand the bright sun had dried the dewy grass
\n\tagain they met where they had told their love;
\n\tand now complaining of their hapless fate,
\n\tin murmurs gentle, they at last resolved,
\n\taway to slip upon the quiet night,
\n\telude their parents, and, as soon as free,
\n\tquit the great builded city and their homes.
\n\tFearful to wander in the pathless fields,
\n\tthey chose a trysting place, the tomb of Ninus,
\n\twhere safely they might hide unseen, beneath
\n\tthe shadow of a tall mulberry tree,
\n\tcovered with snow-white fruit, close by a spring.
\n\tAll is arranged according to their hopes:
\n\tand now the daylight, seeming slowly moved,
\n\tsinks in the deep waves, and the tardy night
\n\tarises from the spot where day declines.
\n\tQuickly, the clever Thisbe having first
\n\tdeceived her parents, opened the closed door.
\n\tShe flitted in the silent night away;
\n\tand, having veiled her face, reached the great tomb,
\n\tand sat beneath the tree; love made her bold.
\n\tThere, as she waited, a great lioness
\n\tapproached the nearby spring to quench her thirst:
\n\ther frothing jaws incarnadined with blood
\n\tof slaughtered oxen. As the moon was bright,
\n\tThisbe could see her, and affrighted fled
\n\twith trembling footstep to a gloomy cave;
\n\tand as she ran she slipped and dropped her veil,
\n\twhich fluttered to the ground. She did not dare
\n\tto save it. Wherefore, when the savage beast
\n\thad taken a great draft and slaked her thirst,
\n\tand thence had turned to seek her forest lair,
\n\tshe found it on her way, and full of rage,
\n\ttore it and stained it with her bloody jaws:
\n\tbut Thisbe, fortunate, escaped unseen.
\n\tNow Pyramus had not gone out so soon
\n\tas Thisbe to the tryst; and, when he saw
\n\tthe certain traces of that savage beast,
\n\timprinted in the yielding dust, his face
\n\twent white with fear; but when he found the veil
\n\tcovered with blood, he cried; “Alas, one night
\n\thas caused the ruin of two lovers! Thou
\n\twert most deserving of completed days,
\n\tbut as for me, my heart is guilty! I
\n\tdestroyed thee! O my love! I bade thee come
\n\tout in the dark night to a lonely haunt,
\n\tand failed to go before. Oh! whatever lurks
\n\tbeneath this rock, though ravenous lion, tear
\n\tmy guilty flesh, and with most cruel jaws
\n\tdevour my cursed entrails! What? Not so;
\n\tit is a craven's part to wish for death!”
\n\tSo he stopped briefly; and took up the veil;
\n\twent straightway to the shadow of the tree;
\n\tand as his tears bedewed the well-known veil,
\n\the kissed it oft and sighing said, “Kisses
\n\tand tears are thine, receive my blood as well.”
\n\tAnd he imbrued the steel, girt at his side,
\n\tdeep in his bowels; and plucked it from the wound,
\n\ta-faint with death. As he fell back to earth,
\n\this spurting blood shot upward in the air;
\n\tso, when decay has rift a leaden pipe
\n\ta hissing jet of water spurts on high.—
\n\tBy that dark tide the berries on the tree
\n\tassumed a deeper tint, for as the roots
\n\tsoaked up the blood the pendent mulberries
\n\twere dyed a purple tint.
\n\tThisbe returned,
\n\tthough trembling still with fright, for now she thought
\n\ther lover must await her at the tree,
\n\tand she should haste before he feared for her.
\n\tLonging to tell him of her great escape
\n\tshe sadly looked for him with faithful eyes;
\n\tbut when she saw the spot and the changed tree,
\n\tshe doubted could they be the same, for so
\n\tthe colour of the hanging fruit deceived.
\n\tWhile doubt dismayed her, on the ground she saw
\n\tthe wounded body covered with its blood;—
\n\tshe started backward, and her face grew pale
\n\tand ashen; and she shuddered like the sea,
\n\twhich trembles when its face is lightly skimmed
\n\tby the chill breezes;—and she paused a space;—
\n\tbut when she knew it was the one she loved,
\n\tshe struck her tender breast and tore her hair.
\n\tThen wreathing in her arms his loved form,
\n\tshe bathed the wound with tears, mingling her grief
\n\tin his unquenched blood; and as she kissed
\n\this death-cold features wailed; “Ah Pyramus,
\n\twhat cruel fate has taken thy life away?
\n\tPyramus! Pyramus! awake! awake!
\n\tIt is thy dearest Thisbe calls thee! Lift
\n\tthy drooping head! Alas,”—At Thisbe's name
\n\the raised his eyes, though languorous in death,
\n\tand darkness gathered round him as he gazed.
\n\tAnd then she saw her veil; and near it lay
\n\this ivory sheath—but not the trusty sword
\n\tand once again she wailed; “Thy own right hand,
\n\tand thy great passion have destroyed thee!—
\n\tAnd I? my hand shall be as bold as thine—
\n\tmy love shall nerve me to the fatal deed—
\n\tthee, I will follow to eternity—
\n\tthough I be censured for the wretched cause,
\n\tso surely I shall share thy wretched fate:—
\n\talas, whom death could me alone bereave,
\n\tthou shalt not from my love be reft by death!
\n\tAnd, O ye wretched parents, mine and his,
\n\tlet our misfortunes and our pleadings melt
\n\tyour hearts, that ye no more deny to those
\n\twhom constant love and lasting death unite—
\n\tentomb us in a single sepulchre.
\n\t“And, O thou tree of many-branching boughs,
\n\tspreading dark shadows on the corpse of one,
\n\tdestined to cover twain, take thou our fate
\n\tupon thy head; mourn our untimely deaths;
\n\tlet thy fruit darken for a memory,
\n\tan emblem of our blood.” No more she said;
\n\tand having fixed the point below her breast,
\n\tshe fell on the keen sword, still warm with his red blood.
\n\tBut though her death was out of Nature's law
\n\ther prayer was answered, for it moved the Gods
\n\tand moved their parents. Now the Gods have changed
\n\tthe ripened fruit which darkens on the branch:
\n\tand from the funeral pile their parents sealed
\n\ttheir gathered ashes in a single urn.
\n\tSo ended she; at once Leuconoe
\n\ttook the narrator's thread; and as she spoke
\n\ther sisters all were silent.<\/strong><\/em>
\n\t(Translation from Ovid, Metamorphoses. Brookes More. Boston. Cornhill Publishing Co. 1922).<\/p>\n\n\tDicta probant primamque iubent narrare sorores.
\n\tIlla, quid e multis referat (nam plurima norat),
\n\tcogitat et dubia est, de te, Babylonia, narret,
\n\tDerceti, quam versa squamis velantibus artus
\n\tstagna Palaestini credunt motasse figura;
\n\t……
\n\tan, quae poma alba ferebat,
\n\tut nunc nigra ferat contactu sanguinis arbor.
\n\tHoc placet, hanc, quoniam vulgaris fabula non est,
\n\ttalibus orsa modis, lana sua fila sequente:
\n\t…..
\n\t55-168
\n\tPyramus et Thisbe.
\n\t“Pyramus et Thisbe, iuvenum pulcherrimus alter,
\n\taltera, quas oriens habuit, praelata puellis,
\n\tcontiguas tenuere domos, ubi dicitur altam
\n\tcoctilibus muris cinxisse Semiramis urbem.
\n\tNotitiam primosque gradus vicinia fecit:
\n\ttempore crevit amor. Taedae quoque iure coissent:
\n\tsed vetuere patres. Quod non potuere vetare,
\n\tex aequo captis ardebant mentibus ambo.
\n\tConscius omnis abest: nutu signisque loquuntur,
\n\tquoque magis tegitur, tectus magis aestuat ignis.
\n\tFissus erat tenui rima, quam duxerat olim,
\n\tcum fieret paries domui communis utrique.
\n\tId vitium nulli per saecula longa notatum
\n\t(quid non sentit amor?) primi vidistis amantes,
\n\tet vocis fecistis iter; tutaeque per illud
\n\tmurmure blanditiae minimo transire solebant.
\n\tSaepe, ubi constiterant hinc Thisbe, Pyramus illinc,
\n\tinque vices fuerat captatus anhelitus oris,
\n\t“invide” dicebant “paries, quid amantibus obstas?
\n\tquantum erat, ut sineres toto nos corpore iungi,
\n\taut hoc si nimium est, vel ad oscula danda pateres?
\n\tNec sumus ingrati: tibi nos debere fatemur,
\n\tquod datus est verbis ad amicas transitus aures.”
\n\tTalia diversa nequiquam sede locuti
\n\tsub noctem dixere ”vale” partique dedere
\n\toscula quisque suae non pervenientia contra.
\n\tPostera nocturnos aurora removerat ignes,
\n\tsolque pruinosas radiis siccaverat herbas:
\n\tad solitum coiere locum. Tum murmure parvo
\n\tmulta prius questi, statuunt, ut nocte silenti
\n\tfallere custodes foribusque excedere temptent,
\n\tcumque domo exierint, urbis quoque tecta relinquant;
\n\tneve sit errandum lato spatiantibus arvo,
\n\tconveniant ad busta Nini lateantque sub umbra
\n\tarboris. Arbor ibi, niveis uberrima pomis
\n\tardua morus, erat, gelido contermina fonti.
\n\tPacta placent. Et lux, tarde discedere visa,
\n\tpraecipitatur aquis, et aquis nox exit ab isdem.
\n\tCallida per tenebras versato cardine Thisbe
\n\tegreditur fallitque suos, adopertaque vultum
\n\tpervenit ad tumulum, dictaque sub arbore sedit.
\n\tAudacem faciebat amor. Venit ecce recenti
\n\tcaede leaena boum spumantes oblita rictus,
\n\tdepositura sitim vicini fontis in unda.
\n\tQuam procul ad lunae radios Babylonia Thisbe
\n\tvidit et obscurum timido pede fugit in antrum,
\n\tdumque fugit, tergo velamina lapsa reliquit.
\n\tUt lea saeva sitim multa conpescuit unda,
\n\tdum redit in silvas, inventos forte sine ipsa
\n\tore cruentato tenues laniavit amictus.
\n\tSerius egressus vestigia vidit in alto
\n\tpulvere certa ferae totoque expalluit ore
\n\tPyramus: ut vero vestem quoque sanguine tinctam
\n\trepperit, “una duos” inquit “nox perdet amantes.
\n\tE quibus illa fuit longa dignissima vita,
\n\tnostra nocens anima est: ego te, miseranda, peremi,
\n\tin loca plena metus qui iussi nocte venires,
\n\tnec prior huc veni. Nostrum divellite corpus,
\n\tet scelerata fero consumite viscera morsu,
\n\to quicumque sub hac habitatis rupe, leones.
\n\tSed timidi est optare necem.” Velamina Thisbes
\n\ttollit et ad pactae secum fert arboris umbram;
\n\tutque dedit notae lacrimas, dedit oscula vesti,
\n\t“accipe nunc” inquit “nostri quoque sanguinis haustus!”
\n\tquoque erat accinctus, demisit in ilia ferrum,
\n\tnec mora, ferventi moriens e vulnere traxit.
\n\tUt iacuit resupinus humo: cruor emicat alte,
\n\tnon aliter quam cum vitiato fistula plumbo
\n\tscinditur et tenui stridente foramine longas
\n\teiaculatur aquas atque ictibus aera rumpit.
\n\tArborei fetus adspergine caedis in atram
\n\tvertuntur faciem, madefactaque sanguine radix
\n\tpurpureo tingit pendentia mora colore.
\n\tEcce metu nondum posito, ne fallat amantem,
\n\tilla redit iuvenemque oculis animoque requirit,
\n\tquantaque vitarit narrare pericula gestit.
\n\tUtque locum et visa cognoscit in arbore formam,
\n\tsic facit incertam pomi color: haeret, an haec sit.
\n\tDum dubitat, tremebunda videt pulsare cruentum
\n\tmembra solum, retroque pedem tulit, oraque buxo
\n\tpallidiora gerens exhorruit aequoris instar,
\n\tquod tremit, exigua cum summum stringitur aura.
\n\tSed postquam remorata suos cognovit amores,
\n\tpercutit indignos claro plangore lacertos,
\n\tet laniata comas amplexaque corpus amatum
\n\tvulnera supplevit lacrimis fletumque cruori
\n\tmiscuit et gelidis in vultibus oscula figens
\n\t“Pyrame” clamavit “quis te mihi casus ademit?
\n\tPyrame, responde: tua te carissima Thisbe
\n\tnominat: exaudi vultusque attolle iacentes!”
\n\tAd nomen Thisbes oculos iam morte gravatos
\n\tPyramus erexit, visaque recondidit illa.
\n\tQuae postquam vestemque suam cognovit et ense
\n\tvidit ebur vacuum, “tua te manus” inquit “amorque
\n\tperdidit, infelix. Est et mihi fortis in unum
\n\thoc manus, est et amor: dabit hic in vulnera vires.
\n\tPersequar exstinctum letique miserrima dicar
\n\tcausa comesque tui; quique a me morte revelli
\n\theu sola poteras, poteris nec morte revelli.
\n\tHoc tamen amborum verbis estote rogati,
\n\to multum miseri meus illiusque parentes,
\n\tut quos certus amor, quos hora novissima iunxit,
\n\tconponi tumulo non invideatis eodem.
\n\tAt tu quae ramis arbor miserabile corpus
\n\tnunc tegis unius, mox es tectura duorum,
\n\tsigna tene caedis pullosque et luctibus aptos
\n\tsemper habe fetus, gemini monimenta cruoris.”
\n\tDixit, et aptato pectus mucrone sub imum
\n\tincubuit ferro, quod adhuc a caede tepebat.
\n\tVota tamen tetigere deos, tetigere parentes:
\n\tnam color in pomo est, ubi permaturuit, ater,
\n\tquodque rogis superest, una requiescit in urna.”
\n\tDesierat, mediumque fuit breve tempus, et orsa est
\n\tdicere Leuconoe: vocem tenuere sorores.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"It is difficult to escape the celebration of \u00abValentine’s Day, the lovers day.\u00bb A powerful tradition that has its roots in antiquity and in the Middle Ages and is currently anchored by the commercial interests of powerful corporations and business organizations, seems to prevail unchecked.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,8,6,14,15],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4888","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-culture","category-gods-religion","category-habits","category-language-literature","category-mythology"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4888","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/6"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4888"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4888\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4888"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4888"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.antiquitatem.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4888"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}