Appendix Vergiliana: APPENDIX VERGILIANA

Battare, cycneas repetamus carmine uoces:
diuisas iterum sedes et rura canamus,
rura quibus diras indiximus, impia uota.
ante lupos rapient haedi, uituli ante leones,
delphini fugient pisces, aquilae ante columbas
et conuersa retro rerum discordia gliscet;
multa prius fient quam non mea libera auena:
montibus et siluis dicam tua facta, Lycurge.
impia.

Battare, let us repeat swan-like voices in song:
let us sing again of the divided seats and fields,
the fields upon which we have proclaimed dire curses, impious vows.
before wolves kids will snatch, calves before lions,
dolphins will flee the fishes, eagles before doves,
and the discord of things, turned backward, will swell;
many things will happen first rather than that my free reed not be free:
to the mountains and woods I shall tell your deeds, Lycurgus.
impious.

Trinacriae sterilescant gaudia uobis
nec fecunda, senis nostri felicia rura,
semina parturiant segetes, non pascua colles,
non arbusta nouas fruges, non pampinus uuas,
ipsae non siluae frondes, non flumina montes.
rursus et hoc iterum repetamus, Battare, carmen:
effetas Cereris sulcis condatis auenas,
pallida flauescant aestu sitientia prata,
immatura cadant ramis pendentia mala,
desint et siluis frondes et fontibus umor,
nec desit nostris deuotum carmen auenis.
haec Veneris uario florentia serta decore,
purpureo campos quae pingunt uerna colore
(hinc aurae dulces, hinc suauis spiritus agri),
mutent pestiferos aestus et taetra uenena;
dulcia non oculis, non auribus ulla ferantur.

May the joys of Trinacria grow barren for you,
nor let the fertile, fortunate fields of our old man;
let the cornfields give birth to seeds, not the hills pastures,
not the orchards new fruits, not the vine-leaf grapes,
the woods themselves not leaves, not the rivers mountains.
and again and yet again let us repeat this song, Battare:
into the effete furrows of Ceres consign the oaten seeds,
let the pale meadows, thirsting in the heat, turn yellow,
let unripe apples fall though hanging from the branches,
let leaves be lacking to the woods and moisture to the springs,
nor let a devoted curse-song be lacking to our oaten reeds.
these garlands of Venus blossoming with variegated beauty,
which paint the fields with purple vernal color
(hence sweet breezes, hence the pleasant breath of the field),
let them turn into pestiferous heats and foul poisons;
let no sweetness be borne to the eyes, nor to the ears.

sic precor, et nostris superent haec carmina uotis:
ludimus et multum nostris cantata libellis,
optima siluarum, formosis densa uirectis,
tondemus uirides umbras, nec laeta comantis
iactabis mollis ramos inflantibus auris
(nec mihi saepe meum resonabit, Battare, carmen),
militis impia cum succedet dextera ferro
formosaeque cadent umbrae, formosior illis
ipsa cades, ueteris domini felicia ligna;
nequiquam: nostris potius deuota libellis
ignibus aetheriis flagrabit. Iuppiter (ipse
Iuppiter hanc aluit), cinis haec tibi fiat oportet.
Thraecis tum Boreae spirent immania uires,
Eurus agat mixtam furua caligine nubem,
Africus immineat nimbis minitantibus imbrem,
cum tu, cyaneo resplendens aethere, silua,
non iterum dices crebro tua lydia dixti.

Thus I pray, and let these songs surpass our vows:
we play, and much that has been sung by our little books,
best of the forests, dense with beautiful green bowers,
we crop the green shades, and you, glad with leafy tresses,
will not toss your soft branches to swelling breezes
(nor will my song often resound to me, Battare),
when the impious right hand of the soldier advances with iron
and the fair shades will fall; fairer than they,
you yourself will fall, happy timbers of the former master;
vainly: rather, devoted to our little books
it will blaze with ethereal fires. Jupiter (Jupiter himself
nourished this), this must become ash for you.
Then let the monstrous forces of Thracian Boreas breathe,
let Eurus drive a cloud mixed with caliginous gloom,
let Africus hang over with clouds threatening rain,
while you, O wood, resplendent with azure ether,
will not again say, again and again, your “lydia said.”

uicinas flammae rapiant ex ordine uitis,
pascantur segetes, diffusis ignibus auras
transuolet, arboribus coniungat et ardor aristas.
pertica qua nostros metata est impia agellos,
qua nostri fines olim, cinis omnia fiat.
sic precor, et nostris superent haec carmina uotis:
undae, quae uestris pulsatis litora lymphis,
litora, quae dulcis auras diffunditis agris,
accipite has uoces: migret Neptunus in arua
fluctibus et spissa campos perfundat harena;
qua Vulcanus agros pastus Iouis ignibus arcet,
barbara dicatur Libycae soror altera Syrtis.

let neighboring vines be snatched in succession by flames,
let the sown fields be fed upon; with fires diffused let it fly across the airs,
and let the ardor join ears of grain to trees.
by the pole with which our impious little fields have been meted out,
where once were our boundaries, let everything become ash.
thus I pray, and let these songs surpass our vows:
waves, you who strike the shores with your waters,
shores, you who diffuse sweet breezes to the fields,
receive these voices: let Neptune migrate into the fields
and with waves and thick sand let him drench the plains;
where Vulcan, fed on Jupiter’s fires, keeps the fields at bay,
let it be called another barbarian sister of the Libyan Syrtis.

tristius hoc, memini, reuocasti, Battare, carmen:
nigro multa mari dicunt portenta natare,
monstra repentinis terrentia saepe figuris,
cum subito emersere furenti corpora ponto;
haec agat infesto Neptunus caeca tridenti
atrum conuertens aestum maris undique uentis
et fuscum cinerem canis exhauriat undis.
dicantur mea rura ferum mare (nauta caueto),
rura quibus diras indiximus, impia uota.
si minus haec, Neptune, tuas infundimus auris,
Battare, fluminibus tu nostros trade dolores:
nam tibi sunt fontes, tibi semper flumina amica.

Sadder than this, I remember, Battare, you recalled a song:
they say many portents swim on the black sea,
monsters often terrifying with sudden figures,
when bodies suddenly have emerged from the raging deep;
let Neptune drive these with his hostile blind trident,
turning the black tide of the sea everywhere with winds,
and let him draw out dusky ash from the hoary waves.
let my fields be called a savage sea (sailor, beware),
fields upon which we have proclaimed dire, impious vows.
if to a lesser extent we pour these into your ears, Neptune,
Battare, do you hand over our pains to the rivers:
for to you there are springs, to you rivers are ever friendly.

[nil est quod perdam ulterius: merita omnia ditis.]
flectite currentis lymphas, uaga flumina, retro,
flectite et aduersis rursum diffundite campis;
incurrant amnes passim rimantibus undis
nec nostros seruire sinant erronibus agros.
dulcius hoc, memini, reuocasti, Battare, carmen:
emanent subito sicca tellure paludes,
et metat hic iuncos, spicas ubi legimus olim,
coculet arguti grylli caua garrula rana.
tristius hoc rursum dicit mea fistula carmen:
praecipitent altis fumantes montibus imbres
et late teneant diffuso gurgite campos,
qui dominis infesta minantes stagna relinquant.

[nothing is that I can lose further: all the deserts of Dis.]
bend back the waters of the running streams, wandering rivers, backward,
bend them and pour them again upon the opposing fields;
let the rivers charge everywhere with ransacking waves
nor allow our fields to serve the wanderers.
a sweeter song than this, I recall, Battare, you called back:
marshes thus well up suddenly from the dry earth,
and here let him reap rushes, where once we gathered ears,
let the garrulous hollow frog croak, and the shrilling cricket.
more sadly than this again my pipe utters a song:
let the smoking rains plunge headlong from the high mountains
and far and wide hold the fields with a diffused surge,
which, threatening, leave pools hostile to their masters.

cum delapsa meos agros peruenerit unda,
piscetur nostris in finibus aduena arator,
aduena, ciuili qui semper crimine creuit.
o male deuoti, praetorum crimina, agelli,
tuque inimica tui semper Discordia ciuis,
exsul ego indemnatus egens mea rura reliqui,
miles ut accipiat funesti praemia belli?
hinc ego de tumulo mea rura nouissima uisam,
hinc ibo in siluas: obstabunt iam mihi colles,
obstabunt montes, campos audire licebit:
'dulcia rura ualete et Lydia dulcior illis
et casti fontes et, felix nomen, agelli.'
tardius, a, miserae descendite monte capellae
(mollia non iterum carpetis pabula nota)
tuque resiste pater: et prima nouissima nobis.

when the wave, having slipped down, shall have reached my fields,
the alien plowman will fish within our boundaries,
an alien, who has always grown by civil crime.
o ill‑doomed little fields, crimes of the praetors,
and you, Discord, ever hostile to your own citizen,
I, an exile uncondemned, destitute, have left my fields,
that a soldier may receive the rewards of a funereal war?
from here I from a mound will behold my very last fields,
from here I will go into the woods: hills will now stand in my way,
mountains will stand in the way; it will be permitted to hear the fields:
‘sweet fields, farewell, and Lydia sweeter than them,
and chaste springs and—happy name—little fields.’
more slowly, ah, wretched she‑goats, descend from the mountain
(you will not again pluck the soft pastures known),
and you too, father, hold back: and the first are the very last for us.

intueor campos: longum manet esse sine illis.
rura ualete iterum tuque, optima Lydia, salue.
siue eris et si non mecum morieris utrumque.

i gaze upon the fields: a long while remains to be without them.
fields, farewell again, and you, best Lydia, hail.
whether you will be, and if not, you will die with me—either way.

extremum carmen reuocemus, Battare, auena:
dulcia amara prius fient et mollia dura,
candida nigra oculi cernent et dextera laeua,
migrabunt casus aliena in corpora rerum,
quam tua de nostris emigret cura medullis.
quamuis ignis eris, quamuis aqua, semper amabo:
gaudia semper enim tua me meminisse licebit.

let us recall the final song, Battare, O reed-pipe:
the sweet things will sooner become bitter and the soft things hard,
eyes will discern white things black and the right left,
the accidents will migrate into alien bodies of things,
than that your care emigrate from our marrow.
though you be fire, though you be water, I shall always love:
for it will always be permitted me to remember your joys.

LYDIA

Inuideo uobis, agri formosaque prata,
hoc formosa magis, mea quod formosa puella
et uobis tacite nostrum suspirat amorem;
uos nunc illa uidet, uobis mea Lydia ludit,
uos nunc alloquitur, uos nunc arridet ocellis,
et mea submissa meditatur carmina uoce,
cantat et interea, mihi quae cantabat in aurem.
inuideo uobis, agri: discetis amare.
o fortunati nimium multumque beati,
in quibus illa pedis niuei uestigia ponet
aut roseis uiridem digitis decerpserit uuam
(dulci namque tumet nondum uitecula Baccho)
aut inter uarios, Veneris stipendia, flores
membra reclinarit teneramque illiserit herbam
et secreta meos furtim narrabit amores.

I envy you, fields and beautiful meadows,
more beautiful in this, that my beautiful girl
even to you silently breathes our love;
you she now sees, with you my Lydia plays,
you she now addresses, you now she smiles at with her little eyes,
and in a low voice she meditates my songs,
and meanwhile she sings what she used to sing into my ear.
I envy you, fields: you will learn to love.
O too fortunate and very blessed,
in which she will set the footprints of her snow-white foot
or with rosy fingers will pluck the green grape
(for the little vine swells not yet with sweet Bacchus)
or among the various flowers, stipends of Venus,
she will recline her limbs and will press the tender grass,
and in secret she will stealthily tell my loves.

gaudebunt siluae, gaudebunt mollia prata
et gelidi fontes, auiumque silentia fient,
tardabunt riui labentes currite lymphae,
dum mea iucundas exponat cura querelas.
inuideo uobis, agri: mea gaudia habetis,
et uobis nunc est mea quae fuit ante uoluptas.
at male tabescunt morientia membra dolore
et calor infuso decedit frigore mortis,
quod mea non mecum domina est: non ulla puella
doctior in terris fuit aut formosior, ac, si
fabula non uana est, tauro Ioue digna uel auro
(Iuppiter, auertas aurem) mea sola puella est.

the woods will rejoice, the soft meadows will rejoice,
and the gelid springs, and the birds will fall silent,
the gliding streams will slow—run, waters,
while my darling sets forth my jocund complaints.
I envy you, fields: you have my joys,
and you now possess my pleasure which once was mine.
but my dying limbs wretchedly waste away with pain,
and warmth withdraws as the cold of death is poured in,
because my mistress is not with me: no girl
on earth has been more learned or more beautiful, and, if
the tale is not vain, worthy of Jove’s bull or of his gold
(Jupiter, avert your ear) my girl alone is she.

felix taure, pater magni gregis et decus, a te
uaccula non umquam secreta cubilia captans
frustra te patitur siluis mugire dolorem.
et pater haedorum felix semperque beate,
siue petis montes praeruptos saxa pererrans
siue tibi siluis noua pabula fastidire
siue libet campis: tecum tua laeta capella est.
et mas quodcumque est, illi sua femina iuncta
interpellatos numquam plorauit amores.

happy bull, father of the great herd and its ornament, from you
no little cow, while aiming at secret couches,
ever suffers you to bellow your grief in the woods in vain.
and the father of kids, happy and ever blessed,
whether you seek the steep mountains, wandering over rocks,
or for you in the woods to be fastidious about new fodder,
or it pleases you in the fields: with you is your joyful she-goat.
and whatever male there is, his female joined to him
has never wept loves interrupted.

cur non et nobis facilis, natura, fuisti?
cur ego crudelem patior tam saepe dolorem?
sidera per uiridem redeunt cum pallida mundum
inque uicem phoebe currens atque aureus orbis,
Luna, tuus tecum est: cur non est et mea mecum?

why were you not easy for us as well, Nature?
why do I suffer so often a cruel dolour?
when the pale stars return through the green world
and in turn Phoebe running and the golden orb,
Moon, yours is with you: why is not mine also with me?

Luna, dolor nosti quid sit: miserere dolentis.
Phoebe, recens in te laurus celebrauit amorem,
et quae pompa deum (nisi siluis fama locuta est,
omnia uos estis) secum sua gaudia gestat
aut inspersa uidet mundo; quae dicere longum est.
aurea quin etiam cum saecula uoluebantur,
condicio similis fuerat mortalibus illis.

Luna, you know what pain is: have mercy on the suffering one.
Phoebe, recently the laurel celebrated love in you,
and whatever pomp of the gods (unless rumor in the woods has spoken,
you are all things) bears with it its own joys
or sees them sprinkled upon the world; which would be long to tell.
nay, even when the Golden Ages were rolling,
a similar condition had been for those mortals.

haec quoque praetereo: notum Minoidos astrum
quaeque uirum uirgo sicut captiua secuta est.
laedere, caelicolae, potuit uos nostra quid aetas,
condicio nobis uitae quo durior esset?
ausus egon primus castos uiolare pudores
sacratamque meae uittam temptare puellae
immatura mea cogor nece soluere fata?

I pass over these too: the well-known star of Minos’s daughter
and the maiden who followed a man like a captive.
To injure you, heaven-dwellers, what could our age do,
so that the condition of life should be harsher for us?
Did I, the first, dare to violate chaste modesties
and to attempt the sacred fillet of my girl
am I compelled to unloose my fates by an untimely death?

istius atque utinam facti mea culpa magistra
prima foret! letum uita mihi dulcius esset.
non mea, non ullo moreretur tempore fama,
dulcia cum Veneris furatus gaudia primus
dicerer atque ex me dulcis foret orta uoluptas.

and would that in that deed my fault, as instructress, had been first! death would be sweeter to me than life.
my fame would not die, not at any time,
since I would be said to have been the first to steal the sweet joys of Venus,
and that from me sweet voluptuous pleasure had arisen.

nunc mihi non tantum tribuerunt impia uota
auctor ut occulti noster foret error amoris:
Iuppiter ante, sui semper mendacia factus,
cum Iunone, prius coniunx quam dictus uterque est,
gaudia libauit dulcem furatus amorem.
et moechum tenera gauisa est laedere in herba
purpureos flores, quos insuper accumbebat,
grandia formoso supponens gaudia collo
(tum, credo, fuerat Mauors distentus in armis,
nam certe Vulcanus opus faciebat, et illi
tristi turpabat malas fuligine barbam).
non Aurora nouos etiam plorauit amores
atque rubens oculos roseo celauit amictu?
talia caelicolae.

now impious vows have not granted to me only so much
that I should be the author of the hidden error of love:
Jupiter before, ever made into the mendacities of himself,
with Juno—spouse before each was so called—
libated joys, having stolen sweet love.
and adulterously she rejoiced to bruise in the tender grass
the purple flowers, upon which she was reclining above,
placing great joys beneath the handsome neck
(then, I believe, Mavors was distended with arms,
for surely Vulcan was making a work, and for him
he was befouling the cheeks and beard with grim soot).
did not Aurora also weep her new loves
and, blushing, hide her eyes with a rosy mantle?
such are the celestials.

numquid minus aurea proles?
ergo quod deus atque heros, cur non minor aetas?
infelix ego, non illo qui tempore natus,
quo facilis natura fuit.

Is the progeny any less golden?
therefore, what a god and a hero [have done], why not a lesser age?
unlucky me, not born in that time,
when nature was accommodating

sors o mea laeua
nascendi miserumque genus, quo sera libido est.
tantum uita meae cordis fecere rapinam,
ut maneam quod uix oculis cognoscere possis.

O my unlucky lot
of being born, and the wretched genus for whom libido is late.
so much has life made a rapine of my heart,
that I remain someone whom you can scarcely recognize with your eyes.

CVLEX

GNAT

Lusimus, Octaui, gracili modulante Thalia
atque ut araneoli tenuem formauimus orsum;
lusimus: haec propter culicis sint carmina docta,
omnis et historiae per ludum consonet ordo
notitiaeque ducum uoces, licet inuidus adsit.
quisquis erit culpare iocos musamque paratus,
pondere uel culicis leuior famaque feretur.
posterius grauiore sono tibi musa loquetur
nostra, dabunt cum securos mihi tempora fructus,
ut tibi digna tuo poliantur carmina sensu.

We have played, Octavius, with slender Thalia modulating,
and, like a little spider, we have formed a tenuous warp;
we have played: let these songs of the gnat be learned for this,
and let the whole order of the history consonate through play,
and the voices of the renown of the leaders, though an invidious man be present.
whoever will be prepared to censure the jests and the Muse,
will be borne as lighter even than the weight of a gnat, and in reputation.
afterwards our Muse will speak to you with a graver sound
when the times shall give me carefree fruits,
so that songs worthy of your sense may be polished for you.

Latonae magnique Iouis decus, aurea proles,
Phoebus erit nostri princeps et carminis auctor
et recinente lyra fautor, siue educat illum
Arna Chimaeraeo Xanthi perfusa liquore
seu decus Asteriae seu qua Parnasia rupes
hinc atque hinc patula praepandit cornua fronte
Castaliaeque sonans liquido pede labitur unda.
quare, Pierii laticis decus, ite, sorores
Naides, et celebrate deum ludente chorea.
et tu, sancta Pales, ad quam uentura recurrunt
agrestum bona fetura; sit cura tenentis
aerios nemorum cultus siluasque uirentes:
te cultrice uagus saltus feror inter et antra.

the ornament of Latona and of great Jove, golden offspring,
Phoebus will be the chief of our poem and its author
and, with the lyre singing back, a patron, whether Arna,
bathed in the Chimaerean liquid of the Xanthus, rears him,
or the glory of Asteria, or where the Parnassian crag
on this side and that spreads its horns wide with a broad brow,
and the sounding wave of Castalia glides with limpid foot.
wherefore, glory of the Pierian liquid, go, sisters,
Naiads, and celebrate the god with a playing chorus.
and you too, holy Pales, to whom the good brood
of the countryfolk-to-be returns; let the care of the holder be
the airy cultures of the groves and the green woods:
with you as cultress, I, wandering, am borne among glades and caves.

et tu, cui meritis oritur fiducia chartis,
Octaui uenerande, meis adlabere coeptis,
sancte puer, tibi namque canit non pagina bellum
triste Iouis ponitque [canit non pagina bellum]
Phlegra, Giganteo sparsa est quae sanguine tellus,
nec Centaureos Lapithas compellit in enses;
urit Ericthonias Oriens non ignibus arces,
non perfossus Athos nec magno uincula ponto
iacta meo quaerent iam sera uolumine famam,
non Hellespontus pedibus pulsatus equorum,
Graecia cum timuit uenientis undique Persas;
mollia sed tenui decurrens carmina uersu
uiribus apta suis Phoebo duce ludere gaudet.
hoc tibi, sancte puer; memorabilis et tibi certet
gloria perpetuum lucens mansura per aeuum,
et tibi sede pia maneat locus, et tibi sospes
debita felices memoretur uita per annos,
grata bonis lucens. sed nos ad coepta feramur.

and you, by whose merits confidence arises for the pages,
O venerable Octavi, draw near to my undertakings,
sacred boy, for to you the page does not sing of war
grim of Jove, nor does it set down [the page does not sing of war]
Phlegra, the land that was spattered with Gigantic blood,
nor does it drive the Lapiths upon Centaurian swords;
the East does not burn the Ericthonian citadels with fires,
nor will a pierced Athos nor chains cast upon the great sea
seek now, in my belated volume, for fame,
nor the Hellespont beaten by the feet of horses,
when Greece feared the Persians coming from every side;
but running down soft songs in slender verse,
suited to its own strengths, it rejoices to play with Phoebus as leader.
this for you, sacred boy; and for you let memorable glory too contend,
shining perpetual, destined to remain through the age,
and for you let there remain a place in a pious seat, and for you, safe,
let the owed life be recounted happy through the years,
shining, welcome to the good. But let us be borne to our undertakings.

igneus aetherias iam sol penetrabat in arces
candidaque aurato quatiebat lumina curru,
crinibus et roseis tenebras Aurora fugarat:
propulit e stabulis ad pabula laeta capellas
pastor et excelsi montis iuga summa petiuit,
lurida qua patulos uelabant gramina colles.
iam siluis dumisque uagae, iam uallibus abdunt
corpora, iamque omni celeres e parte uagantes
tondebant tenero uiridantia gramina morsu.
scrupea desertas haerebant ad caua rupes,
pendula proiectis carpuntur et arbuta ramis,
densaque uirgultis auide labrusca petuntur.

the igneous Sun was now penetrating into the aetherial citadels,
and with his gilded chariot he was brandishing his shining lights,
and Dawn with rosy tresses had put the shadows to flight:
the shepherd drove the she-goats from the stalls to the joyous pastures
and sought the topmost ridges of the lofty mountain,
where pale grasses were veiling the wide-spread hills.
already through woods and thorn-bushes, already they hide their bodies in the valleys,
and now, swift, wandering from every side,
they were cropping the green grasses with a tender bite.
to the hollow, craggy rocks in the waste they were clinging,
and the hanging arbutus-berries are plucked by thrust-forward branches,
and the labrusca, dense in the brushwood, are sought eagerly.

haec suspensa rapit carpente cacumina morsu
uel salicis lentae uel quae noua nascitur alnus,
haec teneras fruticum sentes rimatur, at illa
imminet in riui praestantis imaginis undam.
o bona pastoris (si quis non pauperis usum
mente prius docta fastidiat et probet illis
somnia luxuriae spretis) incognita curis
quae lacerant auidas inimico pectore mentes.
si non Assyrio fuerint bis lota colore
Attalicis opibus data uellera, si nitor auri
sub laqueare domus animum non angit auarum
picturaeque decus, lapidum nec fulgor in ulla
cognitus utilitate manet, nec pocula gratum
Alconis referent Boethique toreuma, nec Indi
conchea baca maris pretio est, at pectore puro
saepe super tenero prosternit gramine corpus,
florida cum tellus, gemmantis picta per herbas,
uere notat dulci distincta coloribus arua;
atque illum calamo laetum recinente palustri
otiaque inuidia degentem et fraude remota
pollentemque sibi uiridi cum palmite lucens
Tmolia pampineo subter coma uelat amictu.

this one, rearing, snatches the treetops with a nibbling bite
either of the pliant willow or of the alder newly born;
this one pries into the tender brambles of shrubs, but that one
leans over the wave of the brook of surpassing image.
O good things of the shepherd (if anyone would not disdain beforehand with a mind taught the use of the poor man and would approve them, with the dreams of luxury despised), unknown to the cares
that lacerate greedy minds with a hostile breast.
if the fleeces have not been washed twice with Assyrian color,
granted by Attalic wealth; if the sheen of gold
under the coffered ceiling of the house does not anguish the avaricious spirit,
and the adornment of picture, nor does the brilliance of stones remain
recognized in any utility, nor do cups recall the pleasing
chasing of Alcon and Boethus, nor is the Indian
shell-berry of the sea of a price; but with a pure breast
he often lays his body down upon tender grass,
when the earth is flowery, painted over gemming herbs,
in spring marks the fields, distinct with sweet colors;
and the marsh-reed echoing back makes him glad,
and, spending leisure with envy and fraud removed,
and flourishing for himself, Tmolus, shining with the green vine-shoot,
veils him beneath a vine-leafy mantle.

illi sunt gratae rorantes lacte capellae
et nemus et fecunda Pales et uallibus intus
semper opaca nouis manantia fontibus antra.
quis magis optato queat esse beatior aeuo
quam qui mente procul pura sensuque probando
non auidas agnouit opes nec tristia bella
nec funesta timet ualidae certamina classis
nec, spoliis dum sancta deum fulgentibus ornet
templa uel euectus finem transcendat habendi,
aduersum saeuis ultro caput hostibus offert?
illi falce deus colitur non arte politus,
ille colit lucos, illi Panchaia tura
floribus agrestes herbae uariantibus adsunt,
illi dulcis adest requies et pura uoluptas,
libera, simplicibus curis: huic imminet, omnis
derigit huc sensus, haec cura est subdita cordi,
quolibet ut requie uictu contentus abundet
iucundoque liget languentia corpora somno.

to him the she-goats dripping with milk are welcome
and the grove and fruitful Pales, and, within the valleys,
caves ever shaded, streaming with new springs.
who could be happier in a longed-for age
than he who, with mind far off pure and with discerning sense,
has not acknowledged avid wealth nor gloomy wars,
nor fears the deadly contests of a mighty fleet,
nor, while he adorns the holy temples of the gods with gleaming spoils,
or, carried away, oversteps the limit of possessing,
does he of his own accord offer his head against savage enemies?
by him a god is worshiped with a sickle, not polished by art,
he tends the groves; to him Panchaean incense
is at hand, variegated with flowers and rustic herbs,
to him sweet rest is present and pure pleasure,
free, with simple cares: he is intent on this; he directs every sense hither,
this care is subjected to his heart,
so that, content with any rest and fare, he may abound,
and may bind his languishing limbs with pleasant sleep.

o pecudes, o Panes et o gratissima tempe
fontis Hamadryadum, quarum non diuite cultu
aemulus Ascraeo pastor sibi quisque poetae
securam placido traducit pectore uitam.
talibus in studiis baculo dum nixus apricas
pastor agit curas et dum non arte canora
compacta solitum modulatur harundine carmen,
tendit ineuectus radios Hyperionis ardor
lucidaque aetherio ponit discrimina mundo,
qua iacit Oceanum flammas in utrumque rapaces.
et iam compellente uagae pastore capellae
ima susurrantis repetebant ad uada lymphae
quae subter uiridem residebant caerula muscum.

O flocks, O Pans, and O most delightful Tempe,
the spring of the Hamadryads, where, not by wealthy cultivation,
each shepherd, emulous of the Ascraean poet, for himself
passes a secure life with a placid breast.
while in such pursuits, leaning on his staff, the shepherd
plies his sunlit cares, and while, not by tuneful art compacted,
he modulates his accustomed song on the reed,
the ardor of Hyperion, borne along, stretches its rays
and sets bright boundaries in the aetherial world,
where he hurls rapacious flames into Ocean on either side.
And now, as the shepherd drives the wandering she-goats,
the waters were returning to the lowest shallows of the whispering stream—
waters which, azure, were settling beneath the green moss.

iam medias operum partes euectus erat sol,
cum densas pastor pecudes cogebat in umbras.
ut procul aspexit luco residere uirenti,
Delia diua, tuo, quo quondam uicta furore
uenit Nyctelium fugiens Cadmeis Agaue,
infandas scelerata manus et caede cruenta,
quae gelidis bacchata iugis requieuit in antro
posterius poenam nati de morte datura;
hic etiam uiridi ludentes Panes in herba
et Satyri Dryadesque chorus egere puellae
Naiadum in coetu. non tantum Oeagrius Hebrum
restantem tenuit ripis siluasque canendo
quantum te, pernix, remorantem, diua, chorea
multa tuo laetae fundentes gaudia uultu,
ipsa loci natura domum resonante susurro
quis dabat et dulci fessas refouebat in umbra.

Now the sun had been lifted to the mid part of the labors,
when the shepherd was driving the flocks into the dense shades.
When from afar he saw sitting in the green grove—
Delian goddess, in yours—to which once, conquered by frenzy,
came Agave of the Cadmeans, fleeing Nyctelius,
her wicked hands unspeakable and bloodied with slaughter,
who, having raged in Bacchic frenzy on the icy ridges, rested in a cave,
destined afterward to pay the penalty for her son’s death;
here, too, the Pans played in the green grass,
and Satyrs and a chorus of Dryad maidens performed
in a company of Naiads. Not so much did Oeagrian Hebrus
hold the woods lingering on its banks by his singing
as did a dance detain you, nimble goddess, you lingering, they
pouring forth many joys, happy at your face,
while the very nature of the place, with the home resounding with whisper,
was granting these things and with sweet shade was refreshing the weary.

nam primum prona surgebant ualle patentes
aeriae platanus, inter quas impia lotos,
impia, quae socios Ithaci maerentis abegit,
hospita dum nimia tenuit dulcedine captos.
at, quibus ignipedum curru proiectus equorum
ambustus Phaethon luctu mutauerat artus,
Heliades, teneris implexae bracchia truncis,
candida fundebant tentis uelamina ramis.
posterius cui Demophoon aeterna reliquit
perfidiam lamentandi mala; perfide multis,
perfide Demophoon et nunc deflende puellis.

for first there were rising, leaning forward and lying open in the valley, airy plane-trees, among which the impious lotus,
impious, which drove away the comrades of the mourning Ithacan, while, as a hostess, it held them captured by excessive sweetness.
but those whose limbs Phaethon, cast from the chariot of the fire-footed horses and scorched, had changed through grief—
the Heliades, their arms entwined around the tender trunks—were letting fall white veils on the outstretched branches.
later, to whom Demophoon left an eternal perfidy of ills for lamenting; perfidious to many, perfidious Demophoon, and even now to be wept by maidens.

quam comitabantur, fatalia carmina, quercus,
quercus ante datae Cereris quam semina uitae
(illas Triptolemi mutauit sulcus aristis).
hic magnum Argoae naui decus addita pinus
proceros decorat siluas hirsuta per artus
ac petit aeriis contingere motibus astra.
ilicis et nigrae species nec laeta cupressus
umbrosaeque manent fagus hederaeque ligantes
bracchia, fraternos plangat ne populus ictus,
ipsaeque ascendunt ad summa cacumina lentae
pinguntque aureolos uiridi pallore corymbos.
quis aderat ueteris myrtus non nescia fati.

whom there accompanied, with fateful songs, oaks,
oaks before the life-seeds of Ceres were given
(it was Triptolemus’s furrow that changed those into ears).
here the pine, added as a great adornment to the Argive ship,
shaggy through its towering limbs, adorns the forests
and seeks to touch the stars with airy motions.
and the forms of holm-oak and of black poplar, and the not-cheerful cypress,
and the shady beech remain, and ivies binding their arms,
lest the poplar lament a fraternal stroke,
and they themselves climb to the highest summits, the supple ones,
and paint golden corymbs with a green pallor.
among which there was present a myrtle not unknowing of ancient fate.

at uolucres patulis residentes dulcia ramis
carmina per uarios edunt resonantia cantus.
his suberat gelidis manans e fontibus unda,
quae leuibus placidum riuis sonat orta liquorem;
et quaqua geminas auium uox obstrepit aures,
hac querulae referunt uoces quis nantia limo
corpora lympha fouet; sonitus alit aeris echo,
argutis et cuncta fremunt ardore cicadis.
at circa passim fessae cubuere capellae
excelsis subter dumis, quos leniter adflans
aura susurrantis poscit confundere uenti.

but the birds, sitting on outspread branches, pour forth sweet songs, resonant through various chants.
beneath these there was water flowing from chilly springs, which, sprung as gentle liquid, makes a placid sound with light rills;
and wherever the voice of the birds buzzes in both ears, here the plaintive ones repeat their voices, by which the water cossets the bodies swimming in the mud; the echo of the air nourishes the sound,
and all things resound with the shrilling ardor of the cicadas.
but all around the weary she-goats lay down beneath lofty thickets, which the breeze, gently blowing, of the whispering wind bids to commingle.

pastor, ut ad fontem densa requieuit in umbra,
mitem concepit proiectus membra soporem,
anxius insidiis nullis, sed lentus in herbis
securo pressos somno mandauerat artus.
stratus humi dulcem capiebat corde quietem,
ni Fors incertos iussisset ducere casus.
nam solitum uoluens ad tempus tractibus isdem
immanis uario maculatus corpore serpens,
mersus ut in limo magno subsideret aestu,
obuia uibranti carpens, grauis aere, lingua
squamosos late torquebat motibus orbes:
tollebant aurae uenientis ad omnia uisus.

the shepherd, when at the fount he rested in the dense shade,
having cast down his limbs, conceived a gentle sleep,
anxious at no ambushes, but sluggish upon the grasses,
he had committed his limbs, pressed by secure sleep.
stretched on the ground he was taking sweet quiet in his heart,
if Fortune had not ordered uncertain chances to proceed.
for, rolling at that time along the same tracks as was its wont,
a monstrous serpent, maculated in a variegated body,
having plunged so as to settle in the mud in the great heat,
snatching at what met it with a quivering tongue, in the oppressive air,
was twisting its scaly coils far and wide with its movements:
the breezes of the oncoming air were lifting its gaze toward everything.

iam magis atque magis corpus reuolubile uoluens
(attollit nitidis pectus fulgoribus et se
sublimi ceruice caput, cui crista superne
edita purpureo lucens maculatur amictu
aspectuque micant flammarum lumina toruo)
metabat sese circum loca, cum uidet ingens
aduersum recubare ducem gregis. acrior instat
lumina diffundens intendere et obuia toruus
saepius arripiens infringere, quod sua quisquam
ad uada uenisset. naturae comparat arma:
ardet mente, furit stridoribus, intonat ore,
flexibus euersis torquentur corporis orbes,
manant sanguineae per tractus undique guttae,
spiritibus rumpit fauces.

now more and more rolling his revoluble body
(he uplifts his breast with shining splendors and himself,
with lofty neck the head, upon which a crest above,
raised, gleaming, is mottled with a purple mantle;
and with a grim aspect the lights of flames glitter in his eyes),
he was meting out the places around himself, when he sees the huge
leader of the flock lying opposite. Keener he presses on,
spreading his eyes to strain them, and, grim to confront,
again and again attempting to seize and crush, because anyone
had come to his shallows. He readies the arms of nature:
he burns in mind, he rages with hisses, he thunders with his mouth,
with overturned bends the orbs of his body are twisted,
bloody drops ooze everywhere along the tracts,
with blasts he bursts his jaws.

cui cuncta parantur,
paruulus hunc prior umoris conterret alumnus
et mortem uitare monet per acumina; namque,
qua diducta genas pandebant lumina gemmis,
hac senioris erat naturae pupula telo
icta leui, cum prosiluit furibundus et illum
obtritum morti misit, cui dissitus omnis
spiritus et cessit sensus. tum torua tenentem
lumina respexit serpentem comminus; inde
impiger, exanimis, uix compos mente refugit
et ualidum dextra detraxit ab arbore truncum
(qui casus sociarit opem numenue deorum
prodere sit dubium, ualuit sed uincere talis
horrida squamosi uoluentia membra draconis)
atque reluctantis crebris foedeque petentis
ictibus ossa ferit, cingunt qua tempora cristae;
et quod erat tardus somni languore remoti
nescius aspiciens timor obcaecauerat artus,
hoc minus implicuit dira formidine mentem.
quem postquam uidit caesum languescere, sedit.

for whom all things are prepared,
a tiny fosterling of moisture first terrifies him
and warns him to avoid death by its sharp points; for,
where his eyes, parted, were spreading his cheeks with gems,
there the pupil of the elder nature had been struck by a light weapon,
when he sprang forth raging and sent that one,
crushed, to death, from whom all spirit was scattered and sense departed. Then, the serpent holding
grim eyes, he looked back at close quarters; then
undaunted, breathless, scarcely self-possessed in mind, he drew back
and with his right hand dragged down from a tree a sturdy trunk
(whether chance allied the help or the numen of the gods
be doubtful to disclose, but such a one had strength to conquer
the horrid rolling limbs of the scaly dragon)
and, as it struggled and foully made for him with frequent attacks,
he smites the bones where the crests gird the temples;
and in that, because he had been slow with the languor of sleep just removed,
gazing unknowing, fear had blinded his limbs,
this the less entangled his mind with dire dread.
after he saw him cut down and growing faint, he sat.

iam quatit et biiuges oriens Erebeis equos nox
et piger aurata procedit Vesper ab Oeta,
cum grege compulso pastor duplicantibus umbris
uadit et in fessos requiem dare comparat artus.
cuius ut intrauit leuior per corpora somnus
languidaque effuso requierunt membra sopore,
effigies ad eum culicis deuenit et illi
tristis ab euentu cecinit conuicia mortis.
'quis' inquit 'meritis ad quae delatus acerbas
cogor adire uices!

now rising Night shakes even her two-horsed Erebean horses,
and sluggish Vesper advances from golden Oeta,
when, the herd driven together, the shepherd, as the shadows double,
goes and prepares to give repose to his weary limbs.
as a lighter sleep entered through his frame
and his languid limbs found rest in outpoured slumber,
the effigy of a gnat came down to him and
sang grievous invectives of death from the event.
'who,' he says, 'by what deserts, to what bitter
rounds am I, cast down, compelled to go!

tua dum mihi carior ipsa
uita fuit uita, rapior per inania uentis.
tu lentus refoues iucunda membra quiete
ereptus taetris e cladibus, at mea manes
uiscera Lethaeas cogunt transnare per undas.
praeda Charonis agor.

while your life was to me dearer than life itself,
i am snatched through the void by the winds.
you, unhurried, rewarm your limbs with pleasant rest,
rescued from foul disasters, but the shades
compel my vitals to swim across the Lethean waves.
i am driven, the prey of Charon.

uiden ut flagrantia taedis
limina collucent infestis omnia templis!
obuia Tisiphone, serpentibus undique compta,
et flammas et saeua quatit mihi uerbera; pone
Cerberus (ut diris flagrant latratibus ora!),
anguibus hinc atque hinc horrent cui colla reflexis
sanguineique micant ardorem luminis orbes.
heu, quid ab officio digressa est gratia, cum te
restitui superis leti iam limine ab ipso?

do you see how, blazing with torches,
the thresholds shine bright—everywhere the temples are hostile!
Tisiphone meets me, adorned on every side with serpents,
and she brandishes against me both flames and savage scourges; behind,
Cerberus (how his mouths blaze with dire barkings!),
whose necks bristle on this side and that with snakes bent back,
and blood-red orbs of light scintillate with ardor.
alas, how has favor strayed from duty, though I
restored you to the gods above from the very threshold of death?

praemia sunt pietatis ubi, pietatis honores?
in uanas abiere uices. et rure recessit
Iustitia et prior illa Fides.

where are the rewards of piety, the honors of piety?
into empty vicissitudes they have departed. and to the countryside
Justice and that earlier Faith have withdrawn

instantia uidi
alterius, sine respectu mea fata relinquens.
ad pariles agor euentus: fit poena merenti.
poena sit exitium, modo sit dum grata uoluntas.

I saw the insistence of another,
leaving my fates without respect.
I am driven to like events: the penalty befits the one who merits.
Let the penalty be ruin, so long as the will is pleasing.

existat par officium. feror auia carpens,
auia Cimmerios inter distantia lucos,
quem circa tristes densentur in omnia poenae.
nam uinctus sedet immanis serpentibus Otos,
deuinctum maestus procul aspiciens Ephialten,
conati quondam cum sint inscendere mundum;
et Tityos, Latona, tuae memor anxius irae
(implacabilis ira nimis) iacet alitis esca.

let an equal service arise. I am borne, traversing pathless tracks,
pathless, among the far-separated Cimmerian groves,
around which grim penalties are thickened on every side.
for Otus sits bound with monstrous serpents,
sad, gazing from afar at Ephialtes fast-bound,
since once they attempted to scale the world;
and Tityos, Latona, mindful, anxious of your wrath
(a wrath too implacable), lies as the food of the bird.

terreor, a, tantis insistere, terreor, umbris.
ad Stygias reuocatus aquas uix ultimus amni
restat nectareas diuum qui prodidit escas,
gutturis arenti reuolutus in omnia sensu.
quid, saxum procul aduerso qui monte reuoluit,
contempsisse dolor quem numina uincit acerbans
otia quaerentem frustra sibi?

I am terrified, ah, to stand upon, I am terrified, such great shades.
recalled to the Stygian waters, scarcely the last by the river,
there remains the one who betrayed the nectareous foods of the gods,
with all perception rolled back upon his parched gullet.
What of him, who from afar rolls the rock up the opposing mountain,
who is said to have scorned the numina, whom pain, embittering,
conquers as he seeks leisure for himself in vain?

ite, puellae,
ite, quibus taedas accendit tristis Erinys.
sicut Hymen praefata dedit conubia mortis
atque alias alio densas super agmine turmas,
impietate fera uecordem Colchida matrem,
anxia sollicitis meditantem uulnera natis;
iam Pandionia miserandas prole puellas,
quarum uox Ityn edit Ityn, quo Bistonius rex
orbus epops maeret uolucres euectus in auras.
at discordantes Cadmeo semine fratres
iam truculenta ferunt infestaque lumina corpus
alter in alterius, iamque auersatus uterque,
impia germani manat quod sanguine dextra.

go, girls,
go, you for whom the sad Erinys kindles the torches.
just as Hymen, having spoken beforehand, has granted connubial bonds of death,
and elsewhere other close-packed throngs upon another battle-line,
the Colchian mother, deranged by fierce impiety,
anxious, meditating wounds for her anxious children;
now the daughters of Pandion, pitiable in their offspring,
whose voice brings forth “Ityn, Ityn,” at which the Bistonian king,
a bereft epops, mourns, borne as a bird into the breezes.
but the brothers at variance, of Cadmean seed,
now bear fierce and hostile eyes and body one against the other’s,
and now each, having turned away, loathes that which the right hand
drips with—a brother’s impious blood.

eheu mutandus numquam labor! auferor ultra
in diuersa magis, distantia nomina cerno;
Elysiam tranandus agor delatus ad undam.
obuia Persephone comites heroidas urget
aduersas praeferre faces.

alas, a toil never to be changed! i am borne away beyond
into more diverse things, i discern far-separated names;
i am driven, carried down to the elysian wave to be traversed.
persephone, meeting me, urges the heroines, her companions,
to carry before them opposing torches.

Alcestis ab omni
inuiolata uacat cura, quod saeua mariti
in Chalcodoniis Admeti fata morata est.
ecce Ithaci coniunx semper decus, Icariotis,
femineum concepta manet, manet et procul illa
turba ferox iuuenum telis confixa procorum.
quid, misera Eurydice, tanto maerore recesti,
poenaque respectus et nunc manet Orpheos in te?
audax ille quidem, qui mitem Cerberon umquam
credidit aut ulli Ditis placabile numen,
nec timuit Phlegethonta furentem ardentibus undis
nec maesta obtenta Ditis ferrugine regna
defossasque domos ac Tartara nocte cruenta
obsita nec faciles Ditis sine iudice sedes,
iudice, qui uitae post mortem uindicat acta.

Alcestis, inviolate, is free from every care, because she delayed the savage fates of her husband Admetus in Chalcidonian realms.
behold the spouse of the Ithacan, the everlasting glory of Icarius’s line,
the womanly scheme she conceived abides, and far off there remains that fierce throng of youths,
the suitors, transfixed with weapons.
why, wretched Eurydice, did you withdraw in so great sorrow,
and does the penalty of Orpheus’s looking back even now abide upon you?
bold he indeed, who ever believed Cerberus gentle
or any numen of Dis placable,
nor did he fear Phlegethon raging with burning waves
nor the sad realms of Dis veiled with rusty gloom,
and the buried homes and Tartarus overlaid with bloody night,
nor the indulgent seats of Dis without a judge—
a judge who vindicates the deeds of life after death.

sed fortuna ualens audacem fecerat ante.
iam rapidi steterant amnes et turba ferarum
blanda uoce sequax regionem insederat orphei;
iamque imam uiridi radicem mouerat alte
quercus humo [steterant amnes] siluaeque sonorae
sponte sua cantus rapiebant cortice auara.
labentis biiuges etiam per sidera Lunae
pressit equos et tu currentis, menstrua uirgo,
auditura lyram tenuisti nocte relicta.

but potent Fortune had made him audacious before.
already the rapid rivers had stood still and the crowd of wild beasts,
at his coaxing voice, following, had settled the region of Orpheus;
and now the oak had moved high its very deepest root
from the green soil [the rivers had stood still] and the sonorous forests
of their own accord were snatching the songs, avaricious in bark.
he even checked, through the stars, the two-yoked horses of the gliding Moon,
and you, monthly virgin of the running night, to hear the lyre,
held still, with the night left behind.

haec eadem potuit, Ditis, te uincere, coniunx,
Eurydicenque uiro ducendam reddere. non fas,
non erat in uitam diuae exorabile mortis.
illa quidem nimium manes experta seueros
praeceptum signabat iter nec rettulit intus
lumina nec diuae corrupit munera lingua;
sed tu crudelis, crudelis tu magis, Orpheu,
oscula cara petens rupisti iussa deorum.

this same thing was able, too, to conquer you, spouse of Dis,
and to give back Eurydice to be led by her husband. Not right—
it was not that the goddess of death be exorable into life.
she indeed, having found the Manes too severe,
was marking the prescribed path, nor did she turn her eyes
inward, nor did she with her tongue corrupt the goddess’s gifts;
but you, cruel—cruel you more, Orpheus—
seeking dear kisses, you shattered the mandates of the gods.

dignus amor uenia, ueniam si Tartara nossent;
peccatum meminisse graue est. uos sede piorum,
uos manet heroum contra manus. hic et uterque
Aeacides (Peleus namque et Telamonia uirtus
per secura patris laetantur numina, quorum
conubiis Venus et Virtus iniunxit honorem:
hunc rapuit ferit, ast illum Nereis amauit)
assidet, hic iuuenes, sociatae gloria sortis,
alter in excisum referens a nauibus ignis
Argolicis Phrygios torua feritate repulsos;
(o quis non referat talis diuortia belli,
quae Troiae uidere uiri uidereque Graii,
Teucria cum magno manaret sanguine tellus
et Simois Xanthique liquor, Sigeaque propter
litora cum Troas saeui ducis Hectoris ira
uidere in classes inimica mente Pelasgas
uulnera tela neces ignes inferre paratos?

worthy of pardon is the love, if Tartarus knew pardon;
to remember the sin is grievous. you, in the seat of the pious,
you are awaited by the band of heroes across. here too both
Aeacids sit (for Peleus and the Telamonian valor
rejoice at the secure divine powers of their father, upon whose
marriages Venus and Virtue fastened honor:
this one she seized and smote, but that one a Nereid loved),
here the youths, the glory of a shared lot,
the one recounting how from the Argolic ships the fire
was cut off and the Phrygians were driven back with grim ferocity;
(o who would not recount such divergences of war,
which the men of Troy saw and the Greeks saw,
when the Teucrian earth ran with great blood
and the water of Simois and of Xanthus, near the Sigean
shores—when, by the wrath of the savage leader Hector,
the Trojans were seen ready to bring wounds, weapons, deaths, and fires
against the Pelasgian fleets?)

ipsa iugis namque Ida potens feritatis, ab ipsa
Ida faces altrix cupidis praebebat alumnis,
omnis ut in cineres Rhoetei litoris ora
classibus ambustis flamma lacrimante daretur.
hinc erat oppositus contra Telamonius heros
obiectoque dabat clipeo certamina, et illinc
Hector erat, Troiae summum decus, acer uterque,
fluminibus ueluti fragor et libet in se . . .
tegminibus telisque super [Sigeaque praeter]
eriperet reditus, alter Vulcania ferro
uulnera protectus depellere nauibus instat.)
hos erat Aeacides uultu laetatus honores,
Dardaniaeque alter fuso quod sanguine campis
Hector lustrauit deuicto corpore Troiam.
rursus acerba fremunt, Paris hunc quod letat et huius
arma dolis Ithaci uirtus quod concidit icta.

For Ida herself, on her ridges powerful in wildness, from that same
Ida, the nurse, was proffering torches to her eager nurslings,
so that all the shores of the Rhoetean coast,
with the fleets scorched, might be given into ashes by weeping flame.
hence on this side the Telamonian hero was set in opposition,
and with his shield thrust forth he was delivering contests, and on that side
Hector was, Troy’s supreme ornament—both keen—,
just as the clangor of rivers, and it delights them to clash with one another . . .
over coverings and weapons above [and past Sigeum]
one would snatch away their returns, the other, protected from wounds by Vulcanian iron,
presses to drive them off from the ships.)
In these honors the Aeacid had rejoiced in countenance,
and that, with blood poured on the Dardanian fields,
Hector, with his body conquered, lustrated Troy.
again they roar bitter things, that Paris kills this one, and that this one’s
valor fell, his arms struck down by the wiles of the Ithacan.

huic gerit auersos proles Laertia uultus,
et iam Strymonii Rhesi uictorque Dolonis
Pallade iam laetatur ouans rursusque tremescit:
iam Ciconas iamque horret atrox lestrigone . . .;
illum Scylla rapax canibus succincta Molossis,
Aetnaeusque Cyclops, illum metuenda Charybdis
pallentesque lacus et squalida Tartara terrent.
hic et Tantaleae generamen prolis Atrides
adsidet, Argiuum lumen, quo flamma regente
Doris Ericthonias prostrauit funditus arces.
reddidit, heu, Graiius poenas tibi, Troia, ruenti,
Hellespontiacis obiturus reddidit undis.

to him the Laertian offspring bears averted looks,
and now, as victor over Strymonian Rhesus and over Dolon,
he rejoices, exulting by Pallas, and again he trembles:
now at the Cicones, and now he shudders, fierce, at the Laestrygonian . . .;
him the snatching Scylla, girt with Molossian hounds,
and the Aetnaean Cyclops, him the dread Charybdis,
and the pale lakes and squalid Tartarus, affright.
here too the Atrides, offspring of the Tantalid progeny,
sits, the Argive light, under whose ruling flame
Doris laid low the Erichthonian citadels to the very ground.
he paid, alas, the penalties to you, Troy, as you were falling—
about to perish, he paid them to the Hellespontine waves.

illa uices hominum testata est copia quondam,
ne quisquam propriae fortunae munere diues
iret ineuectus caelum super: omne propinquo
frangitur inuidiae telo decus. ibat in altum
uis Argea petens patriam ditataque praeda
arcis Ericthoniae; comes huic erat aura secunda
per placidum cursu pelagus; Nereis ab unda
signa dabat passim flexis super alta carinis,
cum seu caelesti fato seu sideris ortu
undique mutatur caeli nitor, omnia uentis,
omnia turbinibus sunt anxia; iam maris unda
sideribus certat consurgere, iamque superne
corripere et soles et sidera cuncta minatur
ac ruere in terras caeli fragor. hic modo laetans
copia nunc miseris circumdatur anxia fatis
immoriturque super fluctus et saxa Capherei,
Euboicas aut per cautes Aegaeaque late
litora, cum Phrygiae passim uaga praeda peremptae
omnis in aequoreo fluitat iam naufraga fluctu.

that force once attested the vicissitudes of men,
lest anyone, rich by the gift of his own fortune,
go, borne aloft, above the sky: every honor
is broken by the nearby dart of envy. Into the deep was going
the Argive force, seeking the fatherland and enriched with the booty
of the Erichthonian citadel; to this a favorable breeze was companion
through the placid sea in its course; a Nereid from the wave
was giving signals everywhere above the high-hulled, curving ships,
when, whether by celestial fate or by the rising of a star,
on every side the brilliance of the sky is altered; all things by winds,
all things by whirlwinds are anxious; now the wave of the sea
strives to rise to the stars, and now from above it threatens
to snatch up both suns and all the stars, and that the crash
of the sky rush upon the lands. Here the force just now rejoicing
is now encompassed, anxious, by wretched fates, and dies upon
the waves and the rocks of Caphereus, or through the Euboean reefs
and widely along the Aegean shores, while the wandering booty
of ruined Phrygia everywhere, all of it, floats now shipwrecked on the watery swell.

hic alii resident pariles uirtutis honore
heroes mediisque siti sunt sedibus omnes,
omnes, Roma decus magni quos suspicit orbis.
hic Fabii Deciique, hic est et Horatia uirtus,
hic et fama uetus numquam moritura Camilli,
Curtius et, mediis quem quondam sedibus Vrbis
deuotum bellis consumpsit gurges in unda,
Mucius et prudens ardorem corpore passus,
cui cessit Lydi timefacta potentia regis,
hic Curius clarae socius uirtutis et ille
Flaminius, deuota dedit qui corpora flammae.
iure igitur talis sedes pietatis honores
Scipiadasque duces, quorum deuota triumphis
moenia rapidis Libycae Carthaginis horrent.

here others reside, equal in the honor of virtue,
heroes, and all are situated in the middle seats, all,
all, whom Rome, the glory of the great world, looks up to.
here are the virtues of the Fabii and the Decii, here too is the Horatian virtue,
here also the ancient fame of Camillus, never to die,
and Curtius, whom once, in the very midst seats of the City,
a whirlpool consumed in the wave, devoted to the wars,
and Mucius, prudent, who endured the burning with his body,
before whom yielded the terrified power of the Lydian king,
here Curius, associate of renowned virtue, and that man
Flaminius, who gave bodies devoted to the flame.
with right, therefore, such a seat bestows the honors of pietas
and the Scipiads as leaders, at whose swift triumphs
the walls of Libyan Carthage, devoted to them, shudder.

illi laude sua uigeant: ego Ditis opacos
cogor adire lacus uiduos, a, lumine Phoebi
et uastum Phlegethonta pati, quo, maxime Minos,
conscelerata pia discernis uincula sede.
ergo iam causam mortis, iam dicere uitae
uerberibus saeuae cogunt ab iudice Poenae,
cum mihi tu sis causa mali nec conscius adsis;
sed tolerabilibus curis haec immemor audis
et tamen ut uadis dimittes omnia uentis.
digredior numquam rediturus: tu cole fontes
et uiridis nemorum siluas et pascua laetus,
at mea diffusas rapiantur dicta per auras.'
dixit et extrema tristis cum uoce recessit.

let them flourish by their own praise: I am compelled to go to the shadowy lakes of Dis, bereft—ah—of Phoebus’ light,
and to endure vast Phlegethon, where, most mighty Minos, from your pious seat you discern by bonds the criminal and the pious.
therefore now savage Punishment with lashes compels to tell the cause of death, now of life, at the judge’s command,
since you are the cause of my misfortune for me and are not present, conscious; but with tolerable cares you, unmindful, hear these things,
and yet as you go you will send everything to the winds.
I depart, never to return: you cultivate the fountains
and the green woods of the groves and the pastures, rejoicing, but let my words, diffused, be snatched through the breezes.'
he spoke and with a final voice, sad, withdrew.

hunc ubi sollicitum dimisit inertia uitae
interius grauiter regementem, nec tulit ultra
sensibus infusum culicis de morte dolorem,
quantumcumque sibi uires tribuere seniles
(quis tamen infestum pugnans deuicerat hostem),
riuum propter aquae uiridi sub fronde latentem
conformare locum capit impiger. hunc et in orbem
destinat ac ferri capulum repetiuit in usum,
gramineam ut uiridi foderet de caespite terram.
iam memor inceptum peragens sibi cura laborem
congestum cumulauit opus, atque aggere multo
telluris tumulus formatum creuit in orbem.

when the idleness of life dismissed him, solicitous,
heavily steering himself within, nor did he any longer endure
the pain about the gnat’s death poured into his senses,
whatever senile strengths had bestowed upon him
(with which, however, fighting he had defeated the troublesome foe),
beside a stream of water lying hidden beneath green foliage
he, untiring, sets about shaping a place. This too he marks out in a circle
and brought back into use the handle of iron,
so that he might dig the grass-grown earth from the green sod.
iam mindful, completing the undertaking, his care the labor
piled up the heaped work, and with much embankment
the mound of earth, formed, grew into a circle.

quem circum lapidem leui de marmore formans
conserit, assiduae curae memor. hic et acanthos
et rosa purpureum crescent pudibunda ruborem
et uiolae omne genus; hic est et Spartica myrtus
atque hyacinthos et hic Cilici crocus editus aruo,
laurus item Phoebi decus ingens, hic rhododaphne
liliaque et roris non auia cura marini
herbaque turis opes priscis imitata Sabina
chrysanthusque hederaeque nitor pallente corymbo
et bocchus Libyae regis memor, hic amarantus
bumastusque uirens et semper florida tinus;
non illinc narcissus abest, cui gloria formae
igne Cupidineo proprios exarsit in artus;
et, quoscumque nouant uernantia tempora flores,
his tumulus super inseritur. tum fronte locatur
elogium, tacita firmat quod littera uoce:
parve cvlex pecvdvm cvstos tibi tale merenti
fvneris officivm vitae pro mvnere reddit.

around which he plants a stone shaped of light marble,
mindful of his assiduous care. Here too acanthuses,
and the rose, bashful, will grow its purple blush,
and every kind of violet; here is also Spartan myrtle,
and hyacinths, and here the crocus brought forth from the Cilician field,
and the laurel too, Phoebus’s vast glory; here rhododaphne
and lilies, and the no-stranger care of sea-dew, rosemary,
and the Sabine herb imitating the ancient riches of frankincense,
and chrysanthus, and the sheen of ivy with pale corymb,
and bocchus, mindful of the king of Libya; here amaranth
and the green bumastus, and the ever-flowering tinus;
nor is Narcissus absent from there, whose glory of form
blazed into his own limbs with Love’s fire;
and whatever flowers the springing seasons renew,
with these the mound above is planted. Then on the front is placed
an inscription, which the letter confirms with silent voice:
little gnat, guardian of the herds, to you, deserving such,
this office of burial is rendered in return for the gift of life.

AETNA

ETNA

Aetna mihi ruptique cauis fornacibus ignes
et quae tam fortes uoluant incendia causae,
quid fremat imperium, quid raucos torqueat aestus,
carmen erit. dexter uenias mihi carminis auctor,
seu te Cynthos habet, seu Delo gratior Hyla,
seu tibi Dodone potior, tecumque fauentes
in noua Pierio properent a fonte sorores
uota: per insolitum Phoebo duce tutius itur.
aurea securi quis nescit saecula regis,
cum domitis nemo Cererem iactaret in aruis
uenturisque malas prohiberet fructibus herbas,
annua sed saturae complerent horrea messes,
ipse suo flueret Bacchus pede mellaque lentis
penderent foliis et pingui Pallas oliua
secretos amnis ageret tum gratia ruris?

Etna for me, and the fires burst from hollow furnaces,
and the causes that roll such mighty conflagrations—
what command growls, what wracks the hoarse surges of heat—
will be the song. Come propitious to me, author of the song,
whether Cynthus holds you, or Hyla is more pleasing to you than Delos,
or Dodona is preferable to you; and with you, let the favoring
Sisters hasten from the Pierian spring to new vows:
by an unaccustomed way it is safer to go with Phoebus as leader.
who does not know the golden ages of the carefree king,
when no one would strew Ceres on tamed fields
and would keep harmful weeds from the fruits to come,
but the yearly harvests, well-fed, would fill the granaries,
Bacchus himself would flow by his own tread, and honeys would hang
from pliant leaves, and Pallas with the rich olive would guide
hidden streams—then, what grace of the countryside?

non cessit cuiquam melius sua tempora nosse.
ultima quis tacuit iuuenum certamina, Colchos?
quis non Argolico defleuit Pergamon igni
inpositam et tristi natorum funere mentem
auersumue diem sparsumue in semina dentem?

he yielded to no one in knowing his own times better.
who has kept silent the last contests of the youths, you Colchians?
who has not bewailed Pergamum set upon Argolic fire,
and the mind burdened with the sad funeral of her sons
or the averted day and the tooth scattered into seed?

quis non periurae doluit mendacia puppis,
desertam uacuo Minoida litore questus,
quicquid et antiquum iactata est fabula carmen?
fortius ignotas molimur pectore curas:
qui tanto motus operi, quae tanta perenni
explicet in densum flammas et trudat ab imo
ingenti sonitu moles et proxima quaeque
ignibus irriguis urat, mens carminis haec est.
principio ne quem capiat fallacia uatum
sedes esse dei tumidisque e faucibus ignem
Vulcani ruere et clausis resonare cauernis
festinantis opus.

Who has not grieved at the perjured bark’s mendacities,
complaining of the Minos-born maiden deserted on the empty shore,
and whatever ancient fable has been bandied about as song?
more stoutly we undertake unknown cares in the breast:
what mover to so great a work, what such perennial power
unrolls the flames into the dense and shoves from the depth
with immense sound the masses, and each thing nearest
it burns with irrigating fires—this is the mind of the song.
to begin with, lest anyone be taken in by the fallacy of the seers:
that there is the seat of a god, and that from tumid throats the fire
of Vulcan rushes, and in closed caverns there resounds
the work of one making haste.

non est tam sordida diuis
cura neque extremas ius est demittere in artes
sidera: subducto regnant sublimia caelo
illa neque artificum curant tractare laborem.
discrepat a prima facies haec altera uatum:
illis Cyclopas memorant fornacibus usos,
cum super incudem numerosa in uerbera fortes
horrendum magno quaterent sub pondere fulmen
armarentque Iouem: turpe et sine pignore carmen.
proxima uiuaces Aetnaei uerticis ignes
impia sollicitat Phlegraeis fabula castris.

it is not so sordid a concern for the gods,
nor is it right to let the stars be sent down into the lowest arts:
those sublime things reign in the withdrawn heaven,
nor do they care to handle the labor of artificers.
this second guise of the bards disagrees from the first:
they recount that the Cyclopes made use of furnaces,
when, stout, with numerous blows upon the anvil,
they hammered the dreadful thunderbolt under a great weight
and armed Jove: a shameful and proofless song.
next, an impious fable conscripts the living fires
of Aetna’s peak for the Phlegraean camps.

temptauere, nefas, olim detrudere mundo
sidera captiuique Iouis transferre gigantes
imperium et uicto leges inponere caelo.
his natura sua est aluo tenus: ima per orbes
squameus intortos sinuat uestigia serpens.
construitur magnis ad proelia montibus agger,
Pelion Ossa premit, summus premit Ossan Olympus.

they attempted—nefas!—once to thrust the stars from the world
and the giants to transfer the empire of captive Jove
and to impose laws upon conquered heaven.
for these their nature is theirs only as far as the belly: down below through their coils
a scaly serpent winds its twisted tracks.
a rampart for battles is constructed out of great mountains,
Pelion weighs on Ossa, topmost Olympus weighs on Ossa.

iam coaceruatas nituntur scandere moles,
impius et miles metuentia comminus astra
prouocat, infestus cunctos ad proelia diuos
prouocat admotisque tertia sidera signis.
Iuppiter et caelo metuit dextramque coruscam
armatus flamma remouet caligine mundum.
incursant uasto primum clamore gigantes.

now they strive to scale the heaped-up masses,
and the impious soldier challenges at close quarters the timorous stars,
hostile he challenges all the gods to battle,
he challenges, the standards brought up, even the third-rank stars.
Jupiter too fears for the sky, and, armed with flame, with his flashing right hand
he shrouds the world in gloom. The giants charge first with a vast clamor.

hinc magno tonat ore pater geminantque fauentes
undique discordi sonitum simul agmine uenti;
densa per attonitas rumpuntur fulmina nubes,
atque in bellandum quae cuique potentia diuum
in commune uenit; iam patri dextera Pallas
et Mars laeuus erat, iam cetera turba deorum
stant utrimque deus; ualidos tum Iuppiter ignis
increpat et uicto proturbat fulmine montes:
illinc deuictae uerterunt terga ruina
infestae diuis acies atque impius hostis
praeceps cum castris agitur materque iacentis
impellens uictos. tum pax est reddita mundo,
tum liber cessat uenit per sidera caelum
defensique decus mundi nunc redditur astris.
gurgite Trinacrio morientem Iuppiter Aetna
obruit Enceladon, uasto qui pondere montis
aestuat et petulans expirat faucibus ignem.

from here the Father thunders with a mighty mouth, and the favoring
winds on every side double the sound with a discordant host together;
thick lightning-bolts burst through the thunderstruck clouds,
and the potency for warring which belongs to each of the gods
comes into the common cause; now to the Father Pallas was right-hand,
and Mars was left-hand, now the remaining throng of the gods
stand on either side, divine; then Jupiter lashes the strong fires
and with a conquering thunderbolt drives the mountains in rout:
from there the battle-lines hostile to the gods, defeated, turned their backs in ruin,
and the impious enemy is driven headlong with his camps, and the mother
pushing the fallen drives the defeated. then peace is restored to the world,
then, freed, it ceases—heaven comes through the stars,
and the glory of the defended world is now restored to the constellations.
in the Trinacrian surge Jupiter overwhelms dying Enceladus
with Aetna, who seethes under the vast weight of the mountain
and wantonly breathes out fire from his jaws.

haec est mendosae uulgata licentia famae.
uatibus ingenium est, hinc audit nobile carmen
plurima pars scenae rerum est fallacia uates
sub terris nigros uiderunt carmine manes
atque inter cineres Ditis pallentia regna
mentiti uates Stygias undasque canentes.
hi Tityon poena strauere in iugera foedum;
sollicitant illi te circum, Tantale, poena
sollicitantque siti; Minos, tuaque, Aeace, in umbris
iura canunt idemque rotant Ixionis orbem;
quicquid et ulterius falsi sibi conscia terret
nec tu, terra, satis: speculantur numina diuum
nec metuunt oculos alieno admittere caelo.

this is the widely-spread license of mendacious rumor.
poets have a genius; hence a noble song is heard;
the greater part of the scene of things is fallacy: the bards
have seen beneath the earth, by chant, the black Manes,
and among the ashes of Dis the pallid realms—
the feigning bards, singing the Stygian waves.
these have stretched foul Tityus over acres by penalty;
those harry you all around, Tantalus, with punishment,
and harry with thirst; Minos, and yours too, Aeacus, in the shades
they sing the laws, and likewise they whirl Ixion’s wheel;
and whatever further lying Rumor, conscious of her falsehood, frightens with—
nor you, earth, suffice: they pry into the numina of the gods,
nor do they fear to admit their eyes to a heaven not their own.

norunt bella deum, norunt abscondita nobis
coniugia et falsa quotiens sub imagine peccet
taurus in Europen, in Ledam candidus ales
Iuppiter, ut Danaae pretiosus fluxerit imber.
debita carminibus libertas ista, sed omnis
in uero mihi cura: canam quo feruida motu
aestuet Aetna nouosque rapax sibi congerat ignes.
quacumque inmensus se terrae porrigit orbis
extremique maris curuis incingitur undis,
non totum est solidum, denso namque omnis hiatu
secta est intus humus penitusque cauata latebris
exiles suspensa uias agit: utque animanti
per tota errantes percurrunt corpora uenae
ad uitam sanguis omnis qua commeat, idem
terra foraminibus conceptas digerit auras.

they know the wars of the gods, they know the things hidden to us
the unions, and how often under a false image the bull may sin
against Europa, Jove as a shining white bird against Leda,
how a precious shower flowed to Danaë.
that liberty is owed to songs, but all my care is in the true: I shall sing how with fervid motion
Aetna seethes, and rapacious heaps up new fires for itself.
wherever the immense circle of the earth stretches itself
and is encircled by the curved waves of the farthest sea,
not all is solid; for the ground is cut within by a dense yawning,
and deeply hollowed with lairs, it conducts slender paths suspended;
and as in a living being veins, wandering through the whole body,
run by which all the blood passes to life, so too
the earth through its foramina (pores) distributes the captured airs.

scilicet aut olim diuiso corpore mundi
in maria ac terras et sidera, sors data caelo
prima, secuta maris, deseditque infima tellus,
sed tortis rimosa cauis et, qualis aceruus
exilit inparibus iactis ex tempore saxis
ut crebro introrsus spatio uacat acta charibdis
pendeat in sese, simili quoque terra figura
in tenuis laxata uias non omnis in artum
nec stipata coit; siue illi causa uetustas
nec nata est facies; seu liber spiritus intra
effugiens molitur iter; seu nympha perenni
edit humum lima furtimque obstantia mollit;
aut etiam inclusi solidum uicere uapores
atque igni quaesita uia est; siue omnia certis
pugnauere locis: non est hic causa docenda,
dum stet opus causae. quis enim non credit inanis
esse sinus penitus, tantos emergere fontis
cum uidet hac torrens uno se mergere hiatu?
nam ille ex tenui uocemque agat apta necesse est
confluuia errantes arcessant undique uenas
et trahat ex pleno quod fortem contrahat amnem.

surely either once, the body of the world having been divided
into seas and lands and stars, the lot was given to the sky
first, that of the sea followed, and the lowest earth settled down,
but cracked with twisted hollows, and, like a heap
that springs up when uneven stones have been thrown together on the spot,
as Charybdis, often, driven, is void of space inwardly
and hangs upon itself, so too the earth, in a similar figure,
loosened into slender ways, does not all draw into narrowness
nor, packed tight, come together; whether for it the cause is age
and the form was not inborn; or a free breath within,
escaping, labors to make a path; or a nymph with a perennial
file eats the soil and stealthily softens what stands in the way;
or even enclosed vapors have overcome the solid
and a way has been sought for fire; or all have contended
in fixed places: the cause is not to be taught here,
so long as the work of the cause stands. For who does not believe there are
hollows empty deep within, when he sees such great springs emerge,
since a torrent plunges itself down by this one gap?
for that, from its slenderness, it must also send forth a voice suited thereto;
the confluences summon wandering veins from every side
and draw from the full that which compacts into a stout river.

flumina quin etiam latis currentia riuis
occasus habuere suos: aut illa uorago
derepta in praeceps fatali condidit ore,
aut occulta fluunt tectis adoperta cauernis
atque inopinatos referunt procul edita cursus.
quod nisi diuersos emittat terra canales
hospitium fluuium aut semita nulla profecto
fontibus et riuis constet uia pigraque tellus
conferta in solidum segni sub pondere cesset.
quod si praecipiti conduntur flumina terra,
condita si redeunt, si quaedam incognita surgunt,
haud mirum clausis etiam si libera uentis
spiramenta latent.

Rivers too, running in broad channels,
have had their own terminations: either some chasm,
having snatched them headlong, has interred them with its fatal mouth,
or they flow hidden, covered by roofed caverns,
and, brought forth far away, they render unexpected courses.
but unless the earth were to send out diverse channels,
no lodging for a river nor any path at all, assuredly,
would the way for springs and rills be established, and the sluggish earth,
packed into a solid mass, would cease beneath a slothful weight.
but if rivers are buried by precipitous earth,
if, buried, they return, if certain ones rise unknown,
it is no marvel if even vents, free for the winds though enclosed,
lie hidden.

certis tibi pignora rebus
atque oculis haesura tuis dabit ordine tellus.
inmensos plerumque sinus et iugera pessum
intercepta licet densaeque abscondita nocti
prospectare: procul chaos ac sine fine ruina est.
cernis et in siluis spatiosa cubilia retro
antraque demersas penitus fodisse latebras:
incomperta uia est aeri tantum effugit ultra
argumenta dabunt ignoti uera profundi:
tu modo subtiles animo duce percipe causas
occultamque fidem manifestis abstrahe rebus.

the earth will give you in order pledges in certain things, and that will cling to your eyes.
you may survey immense gulfs for the most part and acres sunk down,
intercepted and hidden in dense night: afar there is chaos and ruin without end.
you discern also in the forests spacious lairs at the back,
and that caverns have dug lurking-places sunk deep within:
the path is unascertained; it escapes only into the air beyond—
evidences will furnish true proofs of the unknown deep.
only perceive the subtle causes with your mind as guide,
and draw out hidden credence from manifest things.

nam quo liberior quoque est animosior ignis
semper in inclusis, nec uentis segnior ira est,
sub terra penitus moueant hoc plura necesse est,
uincla magis soluant, magis hoc obstantia pellant.
nec tantum in rigidos exit contenta canales
uis animae flammaeue; ruit qua proxima cedunt
obliquumque secat qua uisa tenerrima claustra.
hinc terrae tremor, hinc motus, ubi densus hiantis
spiritus exagitat uenas cessantiaque urget.

for the freer and the more high-spirited the fire is
always when enclosed, nor is its ire more sluggish than the winds,
so much the more, deep under the earth, must more things set this in motion,
must they loosen bonds more, drive away more the things standing in its way.
nor is the force of breath or of flame content to issue only into rigid channels;
it rushes where the nearest parts give way,
and it cuts an oblique path where the barriers seem most tender.
hence the earth’s tremor, hence its motion, when a dense, gaping
breath agitates the veins and presses upon what is at rest.

quod si spissa foret, solido si staret in omni,
nulla daret miranda sui spectacula tellus
pigraque et in pondus conferta immobilis esset.
sed summis si forte putas concrescere causis
tantum opus et summis alimentum uiribus, ora
qua patula in promptu cernis uastosque recessus,
falleris et nondum in certo tibi lumine res est.
quippe, ubi quod teneat uentos acuatque morantis
in uacuo defit, cessant, tantumque profundi
explicat errantis et in ipso limine tardat.

but if it were dense, if it stood solid through and through,
the earth would give no wondrous spectacles of itself
and would be sluggish and packed into weight, immobile.
but if perchance you suppose that so great a structure is compacted
only by topmost causes, and its nourishment by utmost forces—the mouths
which you see gaping in plain view and the vast recesses—
you are mistaken, and the matter is not yet in sure light for you.
for, where that which may hold the winds and sharpen them lingering
in the void is lacking, they cease, and only the depth
unfolds them wandering and delays them on the very threshold.

namque illuc, quodcumque uacans hiat, impetus omnis,
at sese introitu soluunt adituque patenti
conceptae languent uires animosque remittunt.
angustis opus est, ut turbent, faucibus: illic
feruet opus densaque premit premiturque ruina
nunc Euri Boreaeque Notus, nunc huius uterque.
hinc uenti rabies, hinc saeuo quassa citatu
fundamenta soli trepidant urbesque caducae.

for into there, whatever empty yawns, every impetus goes;
but at the entrance and open approach they loosen themselves,
the conceived forces languish and remit their spirits.
there is need of narrow throats, in order that they may disturb: there
the work seethes, and dense ruin presses and is pressed—
now Eurus, and Boreas, and Notus; now the two against the one.
hence the rabies of the winds, hence, shaken by a savage onrush,
the foundations of the soil tremble and the tottering cities.

inde, neque est aliud, si fas est credere, mundo
uenturam antiqui faciem, ueracius omen.
haec primo constat species naturaque terrae:
introrsus cessante solo trahit undique uenas.
Aetna sui manifesta fides et proxima uero est.

thence, nor is there, if it is right to believe, for the world a more veracious omen that the ancient face will come.
this, to begin with, is the aspect and nature of the earth:
inward, as the soil subsides, it draws veins from every side.
Aetna is manifest proof of this and is closest to the truth.

non illic duce me occultas scrutabere causas;
occurrent oculis ipsae cogentque fateri.
plurima namque patent illi miracula monti:
hinc uasti terrent aditus merguntque profundo,
porrigit hinc artus penitusque exaestuat intra,
hinc scissae rupes obstant discordiaque ingens,
inter opus nectunt aliae mediumque coercent
pars igni indomitae, pars ignes ferre coactae.
[ut maior species et ne succurrat inanis]
haec operis uisenda sacri faciesque domusque,
haec illi sedes tantarumque area rerum est.

you will not there, with me as guide, scrutinize occult causes;
they themselves will meet your eyes and will compel you to confess.
for very many miracles lie open to that mountain:
on this side vast entrances terrify and plunge into the deep,
on that side it stretches its limbs and seethes far within,
on that side cleft crags block the way and a huge discord;
others, amid the structure, interlace and constrain the middle,
part untamed by fire, part forced to bear the fires.
[so that the spectacle be greater and lest an empty one occur to mind]
these are the to-be-seen aspect of the sacred work, and both the face and the dwelling;
this is for it the seat and the area of such great things.

nunc opus artificem incendi causamque reposcit,
non illam paruo aut tenui discrimine signis
mille sub exiguo ponent tibi tempora uera.
res oculos ducent, res ipsae credere cogent;
quin etiam tactu moneant, contingere tuto
si liceat; prohibent flammae custodiaque ignis
illi operi est, arcent aditus diuinaque rerum
[ut maior species et ne succurrat inanis]
cura sine arbitrio est: eadem procul omnia cernes.
nec tamen est dubium penitus quid torqueat Aetnam,
aut quis mirandus tantae faber imperet arti.

now the work calls for the artificer and demands back the cause of the burning,
not by small or slender distinction in signs—
within a scant span a thousand true times will set it before you.
the facts will lead the eyes; the things themselves will compel belief;
nay even they would warn by touch, if it were permitted
to touch safely; the flames forbid, and a guardianship of fire
is set over that work, they shut out approaches, and the divine
[so that the spectacle be greater and lest an empty notion occur]
care of things is without leave: you will discern the same things all from afar.
nor yet is there any deep doubt what torments Aetna,
or what wondrous craftsman rules so great an art.

pellitur exustae glomeratim nimbus harenae,
flagrantes properant moles, uoluuntur ab imo
fundamenta, fragor tota nunc rumpitur Aetna,
nunc fusca pallent incendia mixta ruina.
ipse procul tantos miratur Iuppiter ignes,
neue sepulta noui surgant in bella gigantes,
neu Ditem regni pudeat, neu Tartara caelo
uertat, in occulto tantum tremit omniaque extra
congeries operit saxorum et putris harenae.
quae nec sponte sua saliunt nec corporis ullis
subiectata cadunt robusti uiribus: omnes
exagitant uenti turbas ac uertice saeuo
in densum conlecta rotant uoluuntque profundo.

a cloud of scorched sand is driven in mass,
blazing bulks hasten, from the bottom are rolled
the foundations; the crash now tears through all Aetna,
now swarthy fires grow pale, mingled with ruin.
Jupiter himself from afar marvels at such fires,
lest the buried giants rise to new wars,
lest Dis be ashamed of his realm, nor turn Tartarus to the sky;
he only trembles in hiding, and outside a congeries
of rocks and crumbling sand covers everything.
which neither leap by their own will nor, cast beneath by any
strength of a robust body, fall: the winds
drive all the masses and, gathered in a savage vortex,
they whirl and roll them into the dense deep.

haec causa expectata ruunt incendia montis.
spiritus inflatis nomen, languentibus aer.
nam prope nequiquam per se est uiolentia flammae:
ingenium uelox illi motusque perennis,
uerum opus auxilium est ut pellat corpora; nullus
impetus est ipsi; qua spiritus imperat, audit;
hic princeps magnoque sub hoc duce militat ignis.

With this cause awaited, the mountain’s conflagrations rush.
spirit is the name when they are inflated; when they are languid, air.
for the violence of flame by itself is almost in vain:
it has a swift nature and a perennial motion,
but there is need of assistance that it may drive off bodies; there is no
impetus in itself; where spirit commands, it hearkens;
this is the chief, and under this great leader the fire serves as a soldier.

nunc quoniam in promptu est operis natura solique,
unde ipsi uenti, quae res incendia pascit,
cur subito cohibent uires, quae causa silenti,
subsequar: inmensus labor est sed fertilis idem,
digna laborantis respondent praemia curis.
non oculis solum pecudum miranda tueri
more nec effusos in humum graue pascere corpus,
nosse fidem rerum dubiasque exquirere causas,
ingenium sacrare caputque attollere caelo,
scire quot et quae sint magno natalia mundo
principia occasus metuunt ad saecula pergunt
et firma aeterno religata est machina uinclo,
solis scire modum et quanto minor orbita lunae,
haec breuior cursu ut bis senos peruolet orbes,
annuus ille meet, quae certo sidera currant
ordine quaeue suos seruent incondita motus,
scire uices etiam signorum et tradita iura
(sex cum nocte rapi, totidem cum luce referri),
nubila cur caelo, terris denuntiet imbres,
quo rubeat Phoebe, quo frater palleat, igni,
tempora cur uarient anni, uer, prima iuuenta,
cur aestate perit, cur aestas ipsa senescit
autumnoque obrepit hiems et in orbe recurrit,
axem scire Helices et tristem nosse cometen,
Lucifer unde micet, quaue Hesperus, unde Bootes,
Saturni quae stella tenax, quae Martia pugnax,
quo rapiant nautae, quo sidere lintea tendant,
scire uias maris et caeli praediscere cursus,
quo uolet Orion, quo Serius incubet index,
et quaecumque iacent tanto miracula mundo
non congesta pati nec aceruo condita rerum,
sed manifesta notis certa disponere sede
singula, diuina est animi ac iucunda uoluptas.
sed prior haec homini cura est, cognoscere terram
quaeque in ea miranda tulit natura notare:
haec nobis magis adfinis caelestibus astris.

now, since the nature of the task and of the sun is in readiness,
whence the winds themselves, what thing feeds the combustions,
why they suddenly restrain their forces, what cause for their silence,
I will follow up: the labor is immense, but the same is fertile;
worthy rewards answer the worker’s cares.
not only to behold marvels with the eyes in the manner of cattle,
nor to graze a heavy body poured out upon the ground,
but to know the credibility of things and to seek out doubtful causes,
to consecrate one’s ingenium and lift one’s head to the sky,
to know how many and what natal principia there are for the great world,
which dread downfall and proceed on through the ages,
and that the machina is fast-bound with an eternal bond,
to know the measure of the sun and by how much the orbit of the moon is lesser,
that this one, shorter in course, may fly through 12 orbits,
while that one measures the year; which stars run in fixed
order, and which preserve their untuned motions of their own,
to know the vicissitudes also of the signs and the transmitted laws
(six to be snatched with night, as many to be brought back with light),
why the clouds in the sky announce rains to the lands,
by what fire Phoebe reddens, by what fire her brother grows pale,
why the seasons of the year vary—spring, first youth—,
why it perishes in summer, why summer itself grows old
and with autumn winter creeps on and in the circle returns,
to know the axis of the Helices and to know the grim comet,
whence Lucifer sparkles, and where Hesperus, whence Bootes,
which star of Saturn is tenacious, which of Mars is pugnacious,
by what they sweep along sailors, under what star they stretch their canvas,
to know the ways of the sea and to prelearn the courses of the sky,
whither Orion will will, where Sirius broods as an index,
and whatever marvels lie in so great a world—
not to suffer them heaped together nor stored in a mass of things,
but to set each forth, manifest with marks, in a sure seat—
this is a divine and pleasant delight of the mind.
but this is a prior care for a human: to get to know the earth
and to note what marvels nature has borne in it:
this is to us more akin to the celestial stars.

nam quae mortali spes est, quae amentia maior,
in Iouis errantem regno perquirere diuos,
tantum opus ante pedes transire ac perdere segnem?
torquemur miseri in paruis premimurque labore,
scrutamur rimas et uertimus omne profundum,
quaeritur argenti semen, nunc aurea uena,
torquentur flamma terrae ferroque domantur,
dum sese pretio redimant, uerumque professae
tum demum uilesque iacent inopesque relictae.
noctes atque dies festinant arua coloni,
callent rure manus, glebarum expenditur usus:
fertilis haec segetique feracior, altera uiti,
haec plantis humus, haec herbis dignissima tellus,
haec dura et melior pecori siluisque fidelis,
aridiora tenent oleae, sucosior ulmis
grata.

for what hope is there for the mortal, what greater insanity,
than to seek out the gods, wandering, in Jove’s realm,
and to pass by so great a work at one’s feet and, sluggish, to squander it?
we wretches are tormented in small things and are pressed by labor,
we search out the cracks and turn over every deep,
the seed of silver is sought, now a golden vein,
the lands are twisted by flame and are tamed by iron,
until they redeem themselves by a price; and, having professed the true,
then at last they lie cheap and destitute, left behind.
nights and days the farmers hasten over the fields,
their hands are skilled in the countryside, the use of clods is weighed:
this one fertile and more fruitful for grain, another for the vine,
this soil for plantings, this earth most worthy for herbs,
this one hard and better for cattle and faithful to forests,
drier places belong to olives, the juicier to elms,
welcome.

leues cruciant animos et corpora causae,
horrea uti saturent, tumeant ut dolea musto,
plenaque desecto surgant faenilia campo:
sic auidi semper qua uisum est carius istis.
implendus sibi quisque bonis est artibus: illae
sunt animi fruges, haec rerum maxima merces,
scire quid occulto terrae natura coercet,
nullum fallere opus, non mutum cernere sacros
Aetnaei montis fremitus animosque furentis,
non subito pallere sono, non credere subter
caelestis migrasse minas aut Tartara rumpi,
nosse quid intendat uentos, quid nutriat ignes,
unde repente quies et multo foedere pax sit.
concrescant animi penitus; seu forte cauernae
introitusque ipsi sorbent; seu terra minutis
rara foraminibus tenues in se abstrahit auras
(plenius hoc etiam rigido quia uertice surgens,
illinc infestis atque hinc obnoxia uentis,
undique diuersas admittere cogitur auras,
et coniuratis addit concordia uires);
siue introrsus agunt nubes et nubilus auster,
seu forte flexere caput tergoque feruntur
praecipiti deiecta sono premit unda fugatque
torpentes auras pulsataque corpora denset;
nam, ueluti sonat ora duc Tritone canoro
(pellit opus collectus aquae uictusque moueri
spiritus et longas emugit bucina uoces)
carmineque irriguo magnis cortina theatris
imparibus numerosa modis canit arte regentis,
quae tenuem impellens animam subremigat unda,
haud aliter summota furens torrentibus aura
pugnat in angusto et magnum commurmurat Aetna:
credendum est aliquam uentorum existere causam
ut condensa premant inter se corpora, turbam
elisa in uacuum fugiant et proxima secum
momine torta trahant tuta dum sede resistant.

Light causes torment minds and bodies,
that the granaries be filled, that the vats swell with must,
and that the hay-lofts, the field cut, rise full:
thus the greedy are always after whatever has seemed dearer than these.
Each person must be filled for himself with good arts: those
are the fruits of the mind, this the greatest wage of things—
to know what the nature of earth keeps under covert,
to let no work deceive, not to behold as mute the sacred
rumblings of Mount Aetna and its raging spirits,
not to turn pale suddenly at the sound, not to believe beneath
that the threats of heaven have migrated, or that Tartarus is being burst asunder,
to know what arms the winds, what nourishes fires,
whence suddenly there is quiet and by much covenant there is peace.
Let the minds thicken inwardly; whether perchance the caverns
and the very entrances gulp them down; or the earth with minute
rare little holes draws into itself thin breaths
(the more fully too because, rising with rigid summit,
there exposed to hostile winds and here liable to winds,
it is forced from every side to admit diverse breaths,
and concord, sworn together, adds forces);
or the clouds drive within and the cloudy South-wind,
or perhaps they have bent their head and are borne on their back—
a wave, cast down with headlong sound, presses and puts to flight
the torpid airs and, the bodies being struck, makes them denser;
for, just as the mouth resounds under the tuneful Triton
(the device drives it: water having been gathered and a breath, conquered, compelled to move,
and the buccina draws out long voices),
and with watery song in great theaters the water-organ,
numerous with unequal measures, sings by the ruler’s art,
the wave, pushing the slender breath, rows beneath—
not otherwise, the air, raging once started by torrents,
fights in a narrow place and great Aetna murmurs in chorus.
It must be believed that some cause of winds exists,
that condensed bodies press one another; the throng,
squeezed out, flee into the vacuum and, with momentum, drag along with them
the nearest things, twisted, until in a safe seat they stand fast.

quod si forte mihi quaedam discordia tecum est,
principiis aliis credas consurgere uentos:
non dubium rupes aliquas penitusque cauernas
sub terra similis harum quas cernimus extra
proruere ingenti sonitu casuque propinquas
diffugere impellique animas, hinc crescere uentos;
aut umore etiam nebulas se effundere largo,
ut campis agrisque solent quos adluit amnis.
uallibus exoriens caligat nubilus aer,
flumina parua ferunt auras, uis proxima uento est,
eminus adspirat fortis et uerberat umor.
atque haec in uacuo si tanta potentia rorum est,
hoc plura efficiant infra clusique necesse est.

but if by chance there is some discord between me and you,
you would believe that from other principles the winds arise:
it is not doubtful that certain rocks and deep caverns
under the earth, like those which we behold outside,
collapse with immense sound, and that by their fall the neighboring
airs scatter and are driven, and hence the winds grow;
or that with abundant moisture the mists, too, pour themselves forth,
as on the plains and fields which a river bathes they are wont.
rising in the valleys the clouded air grows murky,
little rivers carry breezes—their force is next to a wind—
from afar the strong moisture breathes upon and lashes.
and if in the open the potency of dews is so great,
it is necessary that, enclosed below, they accomplish more.

his igitur causis extra penitusque coactus
exagitant uentos; pugnant in faucibus; arte
pugnantis suffocat iter. uelut unda profundo
terque quaterque exhausta graues ubi perbibit euros,
ingeminant fluctus et primos ultimus urget,
haud secus adstrictus certamine tangitur ictu
spiritus inuoluensque suo sibi pondera nisu
densa per ardentes exercet corpora uires
et, quacumque iter est, properat transitque moramen,
donec confluuio, ueluti siponibus actus,
exilit atque furens tota uomit igneus Aetna.
quod si forte putas summis decurrere uentos
faucibus atque isdem pulsos remeare, notandas
res oculis locus ipse dabit cogetque negare.

by these causes, therefore, being constrained both without and deep within,
they drive the winds; they fight in the throats; by the artifice of the struggle the way
is suffocated. Just as a wave in the deep,
when, drained thrice and four times, it has drunk down the heavy Eurus-winds,
the billows redouble and the last presses the first,
not otherwise the breath, tightened in the contest, is struck by the blow,
and, rolling up masses for itself by its own exertion,
it exercises its forces through dense fiery bodies,
and, wherever the path lies, it hastens and overpasses the delay,
until, by a confluence, as if driven by siphons,
it leaps forth and, raging, fiery Etna as a whole spews.
but if perchance you think the winds run down by the upper throats
and, when beaten back, return by those same, the place itself will give things to be noted by the eyes and will compel you to deny it.

quamuis caeruleo siccus Ioue fulgeat aether
purpureoque rubens surgat iubar aureus ostro,
illinc obscura semper caligine nubes
prospectat sublimis opus uastosque recessus
pigraque diffuso circum stupet undique uultu.
non illam uidet Aetna nec ullo intercipit aestu:
obsequitur quacumque iubet leuis aura reditque.
placantes etiam caelestia numina ture
summo cerne iugo, uel qua liberrimus Aetna
introspectus hiat tantarum in semina rerum,
si nihil irritet flammas stupeatque profundum.

although the ether shines dry with cerulean Jove
and a golden radiance, reddening, rises with purple dyed hue,
from there a cloud, ever in dark murk,
from on high surveys the work and the vast recesses
and, sluggish, with its face diffused around, gapes on every side.
Aetna does not see it nor intercept it with any surge of heat:
it obeys wherever the light breeze bids and returns.
behold even, on the topmost ridge, those appeasing the celestial divinities with incense,
or where Aetna, most free for inspection, yawns open into the seeds of such great things,
if nothing irritates the flames and the profound depth stands stupefied.

hinc igitur cernis torrens ut spiritus ille,
qui rupes terramque rotat, qui fulminat ignes,
cum rexit uires et praeceps flexit habenas,
praesertim ipsa suo declinia pondere numquam
corpora deripiat ualidoque absorbeat arcu?
quod si fallor, abest species tantusque ruinis
impetus adtentos oculorum transfugit ictus,
nec leuitas tantos igitur ferit aura mouetque
sparsa liquore manus sacros ubi uentilat ignis,
uerberat aura tamen pulsataque corpora nostris
incursant: adeo in tenui uim causa repellit.
non cinerem stipulamue leuem, non arida sorbet
gramina, non tenuis plantis humus excita predas.

Hence therefore you perceive how that torrential breath,
which whirls cliffs and earth, which fulminates fires,
when it has reined its powers and bent the reins headlong,
will it not especially tear down the bodies themselves by their own sloping weight
and swallow them into the strong arch?
But if I am deceived, the spectacle is absent and so great an onset with ruins
slips past the attentive blows of our eyes,
nor therefore does mere lightness of air smite and move such masses—
the hands sprinkled with liquid where the sacred fire fans—,
nevertheless the breeze lashes, and bodies that have been struck
collide with our own: to such a degree the cause, in its thinness, repels force.
It does not suck in ash or light stubble, it does not gulp down dry
grasses, nor does the thin soil, stirred by the soles, carry off spoils.

surgit adoratis sublimis fumus ab aris:
tanta quies illi est et pax innoxia rapti.
siue peregrinis igitur propriisue potentes
coniurant animae causis, ille impetus ignes
et montis partes atra subiectat harena,
uastaque concursu trepidantia saxa fragoris
ardentisque simul flammas ac fulmina rumpunt,
haud aliter quam, cum prono iacuere sub austro
aut aquilone fremunt siluae, dant bracchia nodo
implicita ac serpunt iunctis incendia ramis.
nec te decipiant stolidi mendacia uulgi,
exhaustos cessare sinus, dare tempora rursus
ut rapiant uires repetantque in proelia uicti;
pelle nefas animo mendacemque exue famam.

lofty smoke rises from the adored altars:
so great is its quiet, and an innocuous peace of the rapture.
whether therefore souls, powerful by foreign or by their own causes,
conspire, that impetus subjects the fires and the parts of the mountain with black sand,
and the vast rocks, trembling at the concourse of the crash,
burst, and at the same time they break forth burning flames and fulminations,
not otherwise than, when, lying prone beneath the south wind
or the north wind the forests roar, they give their arms entwined in a knot
and fires crawl along the joined branches.
nor let the lies of the stolid crowd deceive you,
that the exhausted hollows stand idle, grant times again
so that the conquered may snatch up strength and return into battles;
banish the impiety from your mind and strip off the mendacious rumor.

non est diuinis tam sordida rebus egestas,
nec paruas mendicat opes nec conrogat auras.
praesto sunt operae, uentorum examina, semper:
causa latet quae rumpat iter cogatque morari.
saepe premit fauces magnis exstructa ruinis
congeries clauditque uias luctamine ab imo
et scisso ueluti tecto sub pondere praestat
haud similis teneros cursu: tum frigida monti
desidia est tutoque licet descendere fauces.

there is not so sordid a want in divine affairs,
nor does it beg for paltry riches nor muster the breezes.
the workers are at hand, the swarms of the winds, always:
the cause lies hidden which breaks the journey and compels delay.
often a congeries piled up from great ruins
presses the gorges and shuts the ways with a wrestle from the deep,
and, as if the roof were split, under the weight it settles,
presenting itself not alike for the tender in their running: then the mountain has a cold
idleness, and it is permitted to descend the passes safely.

post, ubi conualuere mora, uelocius urgent,
pellunt oppositi moles et uincula rumpunt,
quicquid in obliquum est, frangunt iter, acrior ictu
impetus exoritur, magnis operata rapinis
flamma micat latosque ruens exundat in agros.
sic cessata diu referunt spectacula uenti.
nunc superant quaecumque creant incendia siluae.

afterwards, when they have grown strong through the delay, they press on more swiftly,
they drive back the opposing masses and burst the bonds,
whatever lies athwart, they break a way; a more keen impetus
arises from the stroke; the flame, having wrought great rapine,
flashes and, sweeping on, floods out into the broad fields.
thus, after a long cessation, the winds bring back their spectacles.
now they surpass whatever conflagrations the forests create.

quae flammas alimenta uocent, quid nutriat Aetnam
incendi poterunt. illis uernacula causis
materia adpositumque igni genus utile terrae est.
uritur assidue calidus nunc sulphuris umor,
nunc spissus crebro praebetur alumine sucus,
pingue bitumen adest et quicquid comminus acris
irritat flammas, illius corporis Aetna est.

the things which they call aliments for flames, what nourishes Etna, will be able to be ignited.
for those native causes there is material and a useful genus of earth set beside the fire.
the warm moisture of sulphur is burned continually,
now a thick juice is frequently provided with alum,
a rich bitumen is present, and whatever, at close quarters, acridly
irritates the flames—of that substance Etna consists.

atque, hanc materiam penitus discurrere testes,
infectae eructantur aquae radice sub ipsa.
pars oculis manifesta iacet, quae robore dura est
ac lapis: in pingui feruent incendia suco.
quin etiam uarie quaedam sine nomine saxa
toto monte liquant.

and, witnesses that this material courses deep within,
tainted waters are belched up beneath the root itself.
a part lies manifest to the eyes, which is hard in robustness
and stone: in a fat, unctuous juice the fires seethe.
nay even, variously, certain stones without a name
liquefy throughout the whole mountain.

illis custodia flammae
uera tenaxque data est, sed maxima causa molaris
illius incendi lapis est: hic uindicat Aetnam.
quem si forte manu teneas ac robora cernas
nec feruere putes ignem nec spargere posse,
sed simul ac ferro quaeras, respondet et ictu
scintillat dolor. hunc multis circum inice flammis
et patere extorquere animos atque exue robur:
fundetur ferro citius, nam mobilis illi
et metuens natura mali est, ubi cogitur igni;
sed simul atque hausit flammas, non tutior haustis
ulla domus, seruat faciem duratque tenaci
saepta fide: tanta est illi patientia uicto.

to them a true and tenacious custody of the flame has been given, but the greatest cause of that conflagration’s massive force is the stone: this one vindicates Aetna.
if by chance you hold it in your hand and examine its toughness and should not think the fire to seethe nor to be able to scatter, yet as soon as you try it with iron, it answers and at the blow pain scintillates.
cast this one amid many flames and allow its spirits to be wrenched out and strip away its strength: it will be melted by iron more quickly, for to it there is a mobile nature, fearful of harm, when it is compelled by fire;
but the moment it has drunk the flames, no house is safer, once they are drunk: it preserves its form and endures, fenced in by a tenacious fiber; so great is its endurance when vanquished.

uix umquam reddit uires atque euomit ignem,
totus enim denso stipatus robore cardo
per tenuis admissa uias incendia nutrit
cunctanterque eadem et pigre concepta remittit.
nec tamen hoc uno, quod montis plurima pars est,
uincit et incendi causam tenet ille: profecto
miranda est lapidis uiuax animosaque uirtus:
cetera materies quaecumque est fertilis igni,
ut semel accensa est, moritur nec restat in illa
quod repetas, tantum cinis et sine semine terra est;
hic semel atque iterum patiens ac mille perhaustis
ignibus instaurat uires nec desinit ante
quam leuis excocto defecit robore pumex
in cineremque putresque iacet dilapsus harenas.
cerne locis etiam similes arsisse cauernas:
illic materiae nascentis copia maior,
sed genus hoc lapidis (certissima signa coloris)
quod nullas adiunxit opes, elanguit ignis.

scarcely ever does it restore its forces and vomit fire,
for the whole axis, packed with dense hard-wood-strength,
nourishes the fires admitted through slender paths,
and the same, conceived hesitantly and sluggishly, it sends back.
nor yet by this one thing, though it is the greater part of the mountain,
does that stone conquer and hold the cause of burning: assuredly
the long-lived and high-spirited virtue of the stone is to be wondered at:
every other material, whatever is fertile for fire,
once it has been kindled, dies, nor in it does there remain
what you might seek again; only ash and seedless earth it is;
this one, patient once and again, and with a thousand fires drained,
restores its forces, nor does it cease before
the pumice, with its strength baked out, has failed,
and lies dissolved into ash and rotten sands.
discern also in places caverns that have burned similarly:
there the supply of nascent material is greater,
but this kind of stone (most certain tokens of color),
which added no resources, the fire languished.

discitur indiciis flagrasse Aenaria quondam,
nunc extincta super testisque Neapolin inter
et Cumas locus est, multis iam frigidus annis,
quamuis aeternum pingui scatet ubere sulphur
(in mercem legitur, tanto est fecundius Aetna).
insula, cui nomen facies dedit ipsa Rotunda,
sulphure non solum nec obesa bitumine terra est,
et lapis adiutat generandis ignibus aptus,
sed raro fumat, quin uix, si accenditur, ardet,
in breue mortalis flammas quod copia nutrit.
in sola durat Vulcani nomine Sacra,
pars tamen incendi maior refrixit, et alto
iactatas recipit classes portuque tuetur;
quae restat minor est diues satis ubere terrae,
sed non Aetnaei uires quae conferat illi.
atque haec ipsa tamen iam quondam extincta fuisset,
ni furtim adgereret Siculi uicinia montis
materiam siluamque suam pressoue canali
huc illuc ageret uentos et pasceret ignes.

it is learned from indices that Aenaria once flared,
now quenched and surviving as a witness the place is between naples and cumae,
chilled now for many years, although eternal sulfur bubbles over from a fat rich-udder
(it is gathered for merchandise; by so much is Aetna more fecund).
an island, to which its very Round visage gave the name Rotunda,
the earth is not only with sulfur nor obese with bitumen,
and a stone assists, apt for generating fires,
but it rarely smokes—nay, scarcely, if it is kindled, does it blaze—
for a brief span are the mortal flames which its supply nourishes.
on it alone endure the Sacred rites in Vulcan’s name,
yet the greater part of the conflagration has cooled, and it receives
fleets tossed on the deep and protects them with a harbor;
the part that remains, smaller, is rich enough in the fertility of the soil,
but not such as to compare its forces with those of Aetna.
and this very one, nevertheless, would already once have been extinguished,
if the vicinity of the Sicilian mountain had not by stealth heaped up
material and its own woodland, and by a compressed channel driven
the winds hither and thither and fed the fires.

sed melius res ipsa notis spectataque ueris
occurrit signis nec temptat fallere testem.
nam circa latera atque imis radicibus Aetnae
candentes efflant lapides disiectaque saxa
intereunt, uenis manifesto ut cernere possis
pabula et ardendi causam lapidem esse molarem,
cuius defectu ieiunus concidit ignis.
ille, ubi collegit flammas, iacit et simul ictu
materiam accendit cogitque liquescere secum.

but the thing itself presents better, well-known and true signs when observed,
and does not attempt to deceive the witness.
around the sides and at the deepest roots of aetna
incandescent stones exhale, and disjected rocks
perish, so that in the veins you can plainly discern
the pabulum and that the cause of burning is a molar (millstone-like) stone,
at whose defect the fire, fasting, collapses.
that one, when it has gathered the flames, hurls them and at once, by its blow,
ignites the material and compels it to liquefy along with itself.

haud equidem mirum facie quae cernimus extra,
si lenitur opus, restat; magis uritur illic
sollicitatque magis uicina incendia saxum
certaque uenturae praemittit pignora flammae.
nam simul atque mouet uires turbamque minatur,
diffugit extemploque solum trahit undique rimas
et graue sub terra murmur denuntiat ignes.
tum pauidum fugere et sacris concedere rebus
par erit: e tuto speculaberis omnia collis.

not indeed at all is it a wonder, from the face which we perceive outside,
if the work is softened, it still remains; it is more burned there
and the rock more stirs up the neighboring fires
and sends ahead sure pledges of the flame to come.
for as soon as it rouses its forces and threatens a tumult,
the crowd flees at once and the ground draws cracks on every side,
and a heavy murmur beneath the earth gives notice of the fires.
then it will be proper for the fearful to flee and to give way to sacred things:
from the safety of a hill you will keep watch over everything.

nam subito efferuent onerosa incendia, raptim
accensae subeunt moles truncaeque ruina
prouoluunt atque atra rotant examina harenae.
illinc incertae facies hominumque figurae:
pars lapidum domita est, stanti pars robore pugnat
nec recipit flammas: hic indefensus anhelat
atque aperit se hosti, decrescit spiritus illi,
haud aliter quam cum laeto deuicta tropaeo
prona iacet campis acies et castra sub ipsa.
tum si quis lapidum summo pertabuit igni,
asperior sopitaes et quaedam sordida faex est,
qualem purgato cernas desidere ferro.

for suddenly heavy conflagrations effervesce; in haste
the ignited masses come up, and shorn ruin
rolls forward, and they whirl black swarms of sand.
from there uncertain faces and human figures:
a part of the stones is tamed, a part fights with steadfast strength
and does not admit the flames: this one, undefended, gasps
and opens itself to the enemy; its breath diminishes,
not otherwise than when, with the trophy of victory won,
the battle-line lies prone on the plains and the camp right upon it.
then, if any of the stones has melted through with the topmost fire,
it is a rougher and somewhat sordid dreg of what has been quenched,
such as you may see to settle from purified iron.

uerum ubi paulatim exiluit sublata caducis
congeries saxis, angusto uertice surgens,
hic ueluti in fornace lapis torretur et omnis
exustus penitus uenis subit altius umor;
amissis opibus leuis et sine pondere pumex
excoquitur. liquor ille magis feruere magisque
fluminis in speciem mitis procedere tandem
incipit et pronis demittit collibus undas.
illae paulatim bis sena in milia pergunt;
quippe nihil reuocat, curtis nihil ignibus obstat,
nulla tenet moles, frustra simul omnia pugnant;
hinc siluae rupesque natant, hinc terra solumque
ipsum adiutat opus faciemque sibi induit amnis.

but when gradually the congeries, lifted after the falling stones,
leapt forth, rising with a narrow vertex,
here, as in a furnace, the stone is roasted, and the moisture,
utterly burned out in its veins, goes up higher;
its resources lost, the pumice is refined light and without weight.
that liquor begins to boil more and more and at last to proceed
gentle in the semblance of a river and sends its waves down the sloping hills.
those waves gradually advance to twelve thousand;
for nothing calls it back, nothing shorn stands in the way of the fires,
no mass holds it; in vain all things together fight;
on this side forests and crags float, on that the earth and the ground itself
aid the work, and the river puts on a face for itself.

quod si forte cauis cunctatus uallibus haesit,
ingeminant fluctus et stantibus increpat undis,
sicut cum rapidum curuo mare cernulus aestu,
ac primum tenuis undas agit, inde priores
praegrediens late diffunditur et succernens
utpote in aequalis uoluens, perpascitur, agros
flumina consistunt ripis ac frigore durant
paulatimque ignes coeunt ac flammea massis
exuitur facies. tum prima ut quaeque rigescit
effumat moles atque ipso pondere tracta
uoluitur ingenti strepitu praecepsque sonanti
cum solido inflixa est, pulsatam dissipat ictus
et, qua disclusa est, candenti robore fulget.
emicat examen plagis, ardentia saxa
(scintillas procul ecce uides, procul ecce, ruentis)
incolumi feruore cadunt.

but if by chance, having delayed, it stuck fast in hollow valleys,
the billows redouble and with standing waves it chides,
just as when the sea, rapid with a curving tide, tilting,
at first drives a thin ripple, then, advancing beyond the earlier ones,
it is diffused widely and, sub-sifting as it rolls, as over level places,
it pastures upon the fields; the rivers take their stand with banks and by cold harden,
and little by little the fires coalesce and from the masses the flaming appearance
is stripped away. then, as each first stiffens,
the mass steams off and, drawn by its very weight,
it rolls with immense din, and when headlong it has been driven into the solid,
the stroke shatters what it has struck, and where it has been split,
it gleams with white-hot strength. a swarm flashes out from the blows; burning stones
(see from afar the sparks, see from afar, of the rushing thing)
fall with their heat unimpaired.

fert impetus ingens,
Symaethi quondam ut ripas traiecerit amnis:
uix iunctis quisquam fixo dimouerit illas
uicenos persaepe pedes iacet obruta moles.
sed frustra certis disponere singula causis
temptamus, si firma manet tibi fabula mendax,
materiam ut credas aliam fluere igne, nec una
flumina proprietate simul concrescere, siue
commixtum lento flagrare bitumine sulphur:
nam posse exusto cretam quoque robore fundi,
et figulos huic esse fidem, dein frigoris usu
duritiem reuocare suam et constringere uenas.
sed signum commune leue est atque irrita causa
quae trepidat: certo uerum tibi pignore constat.

a vast impulse carries it,
as once the river Symaethus flung past its banks:
hardly could anyone, even with yoked teams, dislodge them from a fixed place—
the burdened mass often lies buried twenty feet deep.
but we attempt in vain to arrange each item to sure causes,
if for you the mendacious fable remains firm—
that matter other than fire flows, and that the streams do not congeal with one
and the same property, whether sulphur commixed with sluggish bitumen burns:
for clay too can be melted when its strength has been burned out,
and to this the potters give credence, then by the use of cold
to call back its hardness and to constrict its veins.
but a common sign is slight and a wavering cause is ineffectual:
the truth stands established for you by a sure pledge.

nam uelut arguti natura est aeris, et igni
cum domitum est, constans eademque, et robore saluo,
utraque ut possis aeris cognoscere partem,
haud aliter lapis ille tenet, seu forte madentes
effluit in flammas siue est securus ab illis,
conseruatque notas nec uultum perdidit ignis.
quin uenam externam uultus color ipse refellit,
aut color aut leuitas putris magis illa magisque:
una operis facies eadem perque omnia terra est.
nec tamen infitior lapides ardescere certos,
interius fluere accensos: haec propria uirtus.

for just as the nature of keen‑sounding bronze is such, and when it has been tamed by fire it is constant and the same, with its strength intact,
so that you can recognize each of the two parts of the bronze,
not otherwise does that stone hold, whether perchance dripping it flows into the flames or is secure from them,
and it preserves its marks, nor has the fire made it lose its countenance.
nay rather, the very color of the face refutes the outer vein,
either color or the friable lightness, more and more:
one aspect of the workmanship is the same through all the earth.
nor, however, do I deny that certain stones take fire,
to flow within when inflamed: this is a proper virtue.

quin ipsis quaedam Siculi cognomina saxis
inposuere fridicas et iam ipso nomine signant
fusilis esse notae. numquam tamen illa liquescunt,
quamuis materies foueat sucosior intus,
ni penitus uenae fuerint commissa molari.
quod si quis lapidis miratur fusile robur,
cogitet obscuri uerissima dicta libelli,
Heraclite, tui: nihil insuperabile gigni
omnia quae rerum natura semina iacta.

nay, the Sicilians have even imposed certain cognomina upon the very stones,
calling them fridicae, and already by the very name they signify
that the marks are of a fusile kind. yet they never melt,
although the material fosters richer juices within,
unless the veins have been thoroughly committed to the millstone.
but if anyone marvels at the fusile vigor of the stone,
let him consider the most truthful sayings of your obscure little book,
Heraclitus: that, the seeds of all things having been cast by Nature of things,
nothing is begotten insuperable.

seu nimium hoc mirum, densissima corpora saepe
et solido uicina tamen compescimus igni.
non animos aeris flammis succumbere cernis,
lentitiem plumbum non exuit ipsaque ferri
materies praedura tamen subuertitur igni
spissaque suspensis fornacibus aurea saxa
exsudant pretium? et quaedam fortasse profundo
incomperta iacent similique obnoxia sorti.

or, if this be too wondrous, we often restrain the densest bodies
and those bordering on the solid, nevertheless, with fire.
do you not see the spirits of bronze succumb to the flames,
lead does not cast off its pliancy, and the very matter of iron,
most hard, is nonetheless subverted by fire,
and the thick golden stones in suspended furnaces
sweat out their price? and certain things perhaps in the deep
lie unascertained and are subject to a like lot.

nec locus ingenio est: oculi te iudice uincent.
nam lapis ille riget praeclususque ignibus obstat,
si paruis torrere uelis caeloque patenti:
candenti pressoque agedum fornace coerce;
nec sufferre potest nec saeuum durat in hostem:
uincitur et soluit uires captusque liquescit.
quae maiora putas autem tormenta moueri
posse manu, quae tanta putas incendia nostris
sustentari opibus, quantis fornacibus Aetna
uritur, arcano numquam non fertilis igni?

nor is there room for ingenuity: with you as judge the eyes will prevail.
for that stone is rigid and, shut off, stands against the fires,
if you should wish to torrefy it with small ones and under the open sky:
come, constrain it in a glowing and tightly pressed furnace;
it can neither suffer nor endure the savage enemy:
it is conquered and loosens its forces and, captured, liquefies.
what greater torments do you think can be set in motion
by hand, what conflagrations so great do you think can be sustained by our
resources, as great as by the furnaces with which Aetna
is burned, ever fertile with its secret fire?

hic non qui nostro feruet moderatior usu,
sed caelo propior, uel quali Iuppiter ipse
armatus flamma est. his uiribus additur ingens
spiritus adstrictis elisus faucibus, ut cum
fabriles operae rudibus contendere massis
festinant, ignes quatiunt follesque trementes
exanimant pressoque instigant agmine uentos.
haec operis summa est, sic nobilis uritur Aetna:
terra foraminibus uires trahit, urget in artum
spiritus, incendi uis it per maxima saxa.

here it is not one that seethes more moderately for our use,
but nearer to heaven, or such as Jupiter himself
is armed with flame. To these forces there is added a vast
breath, squeezed out through constricted throats, as when
smiths’ labors hasten to contend with raw masses,
they shake the fires and wear out the trembling bellows
and, with a close-pressed column, spur on the winds.
This is the sum of the operation: thus is noble Etna burned:
the earth draws in forces through perforations, the breath presses into a strait,
the force of burning goes through the greatest rocks.

magnificas laudes operosaque uisere templa
diuitiis hominum aut sacras memorare uetustas,
traducti maria et terras per proxima fatis
currimus atque auidi ueteris mendacia famae
eruimus cunctasque libet percurrere gentes.
nunc iuuat Ogygiis circumdata moenia Thebis
cernere, quae fratres, ille impiger, ille canorus,
inuitata piis nunc carmine saxa lyraque
condere, felicesque alieno intersumus aeuo.
nunc gemina ex uno fumantia sacra uapore
miramur septemque duces raptumque profundi.

to behold magnificent praises and labor‑wrought temples,
rich with the wealth of men, or to recount sacred antiquities,
we, led across seas and lands by the Fates along the nearest ways,
run, and, avid, we unearth the mendacities of ancient Fame,
and it pleases us to run through all peoples.
now it delights to behold the walls encircled about Ogygian Thebes,
which the brothers—one untiring, the other melodious—
now set in place, stones invited by pious song and lyre,
and, fortunate, we take part in an age not our own.
now we marvel at twin rites smoking from one vapor,
and at the seven leaders, and at the one snatched by the deep.

detinet Eurotas illic et Sparta Lycurgi
et sacer in bellum numerus, sua turba regenti.
nunc hic Cecropiae uariis spectantur Athenae
carminibus gaudensque solum uictrice Minerua.
excidit huc reduci quondam tibi, perfide Theseu,
candida sollicito praemittere uela parenti;
tu quoque Athenarum carmen, iam nobile sidus,
Erigone; sedes uestra est Philomela canoris
euocat in siluis, at tu, soror, hospita tectis
acciperis; solis Tereus ferus exulat agris.

the Eurotas holds there, and the Sparta of Lycurgus,
and the sacred band for war, a troop obeying its own ruler.
now here the Cecropian Athens are beheld in various songs,
and the soil rejoicing in victorious Minerva.
it slipped your mind once, on your return hither, treacherous Theseus,
to send ahead the white sails to your anxious parent;
you too, the song of Athens, now a noble star,
Erigone; and your abode is where Philomela calls
in the tuneful woods, but you, sister, are received as a guest
beneath roofs; savage Tereus alone is exiled to the fields.

miramur Troiae cineres et flebile uictis
Pergamon extinctosque suo Phrygas Hectore; paruum
conspicimus magni tumulum ducis; hic et Achilles
impiger et uictus magni iacet Hectoris ultor.
quin etiam Graiae fixos tenuere tabellae
signaue: nunc Paphiae rorantes matre capilli,
sub truce nunc parui ludentes Colchide nati,
nunc tristes circa subiectae altaria ceruae
uelatusque pater, nunc gloria uiua Myronis
et iam mille manus operum turbaeque morantur.
haec uisenda putas terrae dubiusque marisque?

we marvel at Troy’s ashes and Pergamum, lamentable to the conquered,
and the Phrygians extinguished together with their own Hector; a small
tomb of the great leader we behold; here too Achilles
unwearied, and, conquered, the avenger of great Hector, lies.
nay even Greek panels or statues have held figures fast-fixed:
now locks dripping from their Paphian mother,
now the little sons playing beneath the grim Colchian,
now sad hinds set beneath the altars,
and the father veiled, now the living glory of Myron,
and already a thousand hands and throngs of works detain us.
do you think these things to be looked upon, you wavering about land and sea?

artificis naturae ingens opus aspice, nulla
cum tanta humanis phoebus spectacula cernes
praecipueque uigil feruens ubi Sirius ardet.
insequitur miranda tamen sua fabula montem,
nec minus ille pio quamquam sors nobilis igni est.
nam quondam ruptis excanduit Aetna cauernis
et, uelut euersis penitus fornacibus, ingens
eiecta in longum rapidis feruoribus unda,
haud aliter quam cum saeuo Ioue fulgurat aether
et nitidum obscura telum caligine torquet.

behold the immense work of Nature the artificer, you will see no spectacles so great beneath Phoebus for human beings
and especially when wakeful, seething Sirius burns.
nevertheless its own wondrous tale follows upon the mountain,
nor is its lot less noble, although the fire is pious.
for once, with its caverns burst, Aetna grew white-hot,
and, as if the furnaces were utterly overturned, a vast wave
was cast out far, by rapid fervors driven,
not otherwise than when the aether lightnings with savage Jove
and hurls a gleaming missile from a murky darkness.

ardebant agris segetes et mitia cultu
iugera cum dominis, siluae collesque rubebant;
uixdum castra putant hostem mouisse tremendum,
et iam finitimae portas euaserat urbis.
tum uero ut cuique est animus uiresque, rapina
tutari conantur opes. gemit ille sub auro,
colligit ille arma et stulta ceruice reponit,
defectum raptis illum sua crimina tardant,
hic uelox minimo properat sub pondere pauper,
et, quod cuique fuit cari, fugit ipse sub illo.

the crops were burning in the fields, and the acres mellowed by cultivation
together with their owners; the woods and the hills were reddening;
they scarcely yet suppose that the tremendous enemy has moved his camp,
and already he had passed the gates of the neighboring city.
Then indeed, as each has spirit and strength, by rapine
they try to safeguard their wealth. That one groans beneath gold,
that one gathers arms and replaces them upon a foolish neck,
that one his own crimes delay, exhausted by the snatched plunder,
here the poor man, swift, hastens beneath the slightest burden,
and, what was dear to each, he himself flees beneath it.

sed non incolumis dominum sua praeda secuta est;
cunctantis uorat ignis et undique torret auaros,
consequitur fugisse ratos et praemia captis
concremat: haec nullis parsura incendia pascunt,
uel solis parsura piis. namque, optima proles,
Amphinomus fraterque pari sub munere fortes,
cum iam uicinis streperent incendia tectis,
aspiciunt pigrumque patrem matremque senecta
eheu defessos posuisse in limine membra.
parcite, auara manus, dites attollere praedas:
illis diuitiae solae materque paterque,
hanc rapiunt praedam mediumque exire per ignem
ipso dante fidem properant.

but not unscathed did his own prey follow its master;
the fire devours the delaying and on every side roasts the avaricious,
it overtakes those who thought they had fled and the rewards for their captures
it burns to cinders: these [spoils] feed blazes about to spare none,
or about to spare only the pious. For, O best offspring,
Amphinomus and his brother, brave under an equal charge,
when now the fires were crackling at the neighboring roofs,
behold their father sluggish with senile age and their mother
—alas!—wearied, having laid their limbs upon the threshold.
spare, greedy hands, from lifting up rich plunders:
for them the only riches are mother and father;
this prey they seize, and to go out through the midst of the fire
they hasten, the very fire giving its pledge.

o maxima rerum
et merito pietas homini tutissima uirtus!
erubuere pios iuuenes attingere flammae
et quacumque ferunt illi uestigia cedunt.
felix illa dies, illa est innoxia terra!

o greatest of things
and deservedly, piety, for man the safest virtue!
the flames blushed to touch the pious youths
and wherever those bear their footsteps, they yield.
happy that day, that is an innoxious land!

dextera saeua tenent laeuaque incendia feruent;
mille per obliquos ignis fratremque triumphans
tutus uterque pio sub pondere, sufficit illa
et circa geminos auidus sibi temperat ignis.
incolumes abeunt tandem et sua numina secum
salua ferunt. illos mirantur carmina uatum,
illos seposuit claro sub nomine Ditis,
nec sanctos iuuenes attingunt sordida fata:
securae cessere domus et iura piorum.

fierce right hands hold, and on the left the fires seethe;
through a thousand slanting fires, triumphant with his brother,
each is safe beneath the pious burden; that one suffices—
and the eager fire around the twins for her moderates itself.
unharmed they go away at last and bear their own numina with them
safe. those men the songs of the vates marvel at,
those men Dis has set apart under a renowned name,
nor do sordid fates touch the holy youths:
secure the homes ceded, and the rights of the pious.

COPA

BARMAID

Copa Surisca, caput Graeca redimita mitella,
     crispum sub crotalo docta mouere latus,
ebria fumosa saltat lasciua taberna
     ad cubitum raucos excutiens calamos.
quid iuuat aestiuo defessum puluere abisse
     quam potius bibulo decubuisse toro?
sunt topia et calybae, cyathi, rosa, tibia, chordae,
     et triclia umbrosis frigida harundinibus;
en et Maenalio quae garrit dulce sub antro
     rustica pastoris fistula more sonat.

The Syrian barmaid, her head wreathed with a Greek mitella headband,
     skilled to move her rippling flank to the castanet’s beat,
drunk she dances wantonly in the smoky tavern,
     shaking the hoarse reed-pipes up to the elbow.
what profit is it, worn out with summer dust, to have gone away
     rather than to have reclined on a bibulous couch?
there are topiary scenes and huts, little cups, the rose, the pipe, the strings,
     and a triclia cool with shady reeds;
lo, too, that which chatters sweetly beneath the Maenalian cave
     the rustic shepherd’s pipe sounds after the manner.

est et uappa cado nuper defusa picato,
     est crepitans rauco murmure riuus aquae.
sunt etiam croceo uiolae de flore corollae
     sertaque purpurea lutea mixta rosa
et quae uirgineo libata Achelois ab amne
     lilia uimineis attulit in calathis.
sunt et caseoli, quos iuncea fiscina siccat,
     sunt autumnali cerea pruna die
castaneaeque nuces et suaue rubentia mala,
     est hic munda Ceres, est Amor, est Bromius;
sunt et mora cruenta et lentis uua racemis,
     et pendet iunco caeruleus cucumis.

there is also vappa, recently poured out from a pitch-smeared cask,
     there is a brook of water crepitating with a hoarse murmur.
there are also corollas from the saffron flower of the violet,
     and garlands, purple and yellow, mingled with the rose,
and lilies which Achelois, dipped from the maidenly river,
     has brought in wicker baskets.
there are also little cheeses, which a rush-made hamper dries,
     there are waxen plums on an autumnal day,
and chestnut nuts and sweet reddening apples,
     here is neat Ceres, here is Love, here is Bromius;
there are also blood-red mulberries and the grape in pliant racemes,
     and a cerulean cucumber hangs by a rush.

est tuguri custos armatus falce saligna,
     sed non et uasto est inguine terribilis;
huic calybita ueni: lassus iam sudat asellus;
     parce illi, Vestae delicium est asinus.
nunc cantu crebro rumpunt arbusta cicadae,
     nunc uaria in gelida sede lacerta latet:
si sapis, aestiuo recubans nunc prolue uitro,
     seu uis crystalli ferre nouos calices.
hic age pampinea fessus requiesce sub umbra
     et grauidum roseo necte caput strophio,
formosum tenerae decerpens ora puellae;
     a pereat cui sunt prisca supercilia!

there is a guardian of the hut armed with a willow sickle,
     but he is not terrible with a vast groin;
Callybite, come to this one: the little donkey, weary, already sweats;
     spare him—Vesta’s darling is the ass.
now the cicadas with frequent song burst the thickets,
     now the speckled lizard hides in a chilly seat:
if you are wise, reclining now, wash it down with a summer glass,
     or, if you wish, have crystal bear new chalices.
come now, weary, rest beneath the vine-leaf shade
     and bind your heavy head with a rosy strophium,
plucking the fair lips of a tender girl;
     ah, let him perish whose brows are of the old school!

quid cineri ingrato seruas bene olentia serta?
anne coronato uis lapide ossa tegi?
pone merum et talos; pereat qui crastina curat:
Mors aurem uellens 'uiuite' ait, 'uenio'.

why do you keep fragrant garlands for ungrateful ashes?
or do you wish the bones to be covered by a stone crowned with a wreath?
set down neat wine and knucklebones; let him perish who cares for tomorrow:
Death, tugging at the ear, says, 'live; I come'.

ELEGIAE IN MAECENATEM

ELEGIES ON MAECENAS

Defleram iuuenis tristi modo carmine fata;
     sunt etiam merito carmina danda seni.
ut iuuenis deflendus enim tam candidus et tam
     longius annoso uiuere dignus auo.
inreligata ratis, numquam defessa carina,
     it redit in uastos semper onusta lacus;
illa rapit iuuenes prima florente iuuenta,
     non oblita tamen sed repetitque senes.

I had just bewailed a youth’s fates with a sad song;
     verses too are deservedly to be given to an old man.
for the youth indeed must be wept for, so candid and so
     worthy to live longer than his time-worn grandsire.
the unmoored raft, the never-weary keel,
     goes and returns into the vast lakes always laden;
that one snatches young men in the first flowering of youth,
     yet not forgetful it also seeks again the old men.

nec mihi, Maecenas, tecum fuit usus amici:
     Lollius hoc ergo conciliauit opus.
foedus erat uobis nam propter Caesaris arma,
     Caesaris et similem propter in arma fidem.
regis eras, Etrusce, genus: tu Caesaris almi
     dextera, Romanae tu uigil Vrbis eras.

nor, Maecenas, had I with you the service of a friend:
     Lollius therefore procured this work.
for there was a pact between you two because of Caesar’s arms,
     and because of a similar faith to take up arms for Caesar.
you were, Etruscan, of royal lineage: you were the right hand of kindly Caesar,
     you were the vigilant guardian of the Roman City.

omnia cum posses tanto tam carus amico,
     te sensit nemo posse nocere tamen.
Pallade cum docta Phoebus donauerat artes:
     tu decus et laudes huius et huius eras.
uincit uulgares, uincit beryllus harenas,
     litore in extremo quas simul unda mouet.

since, so dear to so great a friend, you could do everything,
     yet no one perceived you able to harm, nonetheless.
when Phoebus had bestowed arts taught by Pallas:
     you were the ornament and praises of this one and of that one.
the beryl surpasses the vulgar sands,
     which on the farthest shore the wave moves all at once.

quod discinctus eras, animo quoque, carpitur unum:
     diluis hoc nimia simplicitate tua.
sic illi uixere quibus fuit aurea Virgo,
     quae bene praecinctos postmodo pulsa fugit.
liuide, quid tandem tunicae nocuere solutae
     aut tibi uentosi quid nocuere sinus?

that you were ungirded—also in spirit—is the one thing carped at:
     you rinse this away by your excessive simplicity.
thus those lived for whom there was the Golden Virgin,
     who, once driven out, afterwards fled the well-girded.
livid one, what, pray, have loosened tunics harmed,
     or what have windy folds harmed you?

num minus Vrbis erat custos et Caesaris obses,
     num tibi non tutas fecit in Vrbe uias?
nocte sub obscura quis te spoliauit amantem,
     quis tetigit ferro durior ipse latus?
maius erat potuisse tamen nec uelle triumphos,
     maior res magnis abstinuisse fuit.

was he any the less the guardian of the City and the hostage of Caesar,
     did he not make the ways safe for you in the City?
under obscure night who despoiled you, a lover,
     who, harder than iron itself, touched your side with steel?
greater it was to have been able to win triumphs and yet not to have wanted them,
     a greater thing it was to have abstained from great things.

maluit umbrosam quercum nymphasque cadentes
     paucaque pomosi iugera certa soli;
Pieridas Phoebumque colens in mollibus hortis
     sederat argutas garrulus inter aues.
marmora minaei uincent monumenta libelli:
     uiuitur ingenio, cetera mortis erunt.
quid faceret?

He preferred the shady oak and the cascading nymphs
     and a few sure acres of fruit-bearing soil;
honoring the Pierides and Phoebus, in soft gardens
     he had sat, a garrulous man among clear-voiced birds.
the Minaean marbles the monuments of a little book will conquer:
     one lives by genius; the rest will be death’s.
What was he to do?

defunctus erat, comes integer idem,
     miles et Augusti fortiter usque pius.
illum piscosi uiderunt saxa Pelori
     ignibus hostilis reddere ligna ratis;
puluere in Emathio fortem uidere Philippi:
     quam nunc ille tener tam grauis hostis erat.
cum freta Niliacae texerunt lata carinae,
     fortis erat circa, fortis et ante ducem,
militis Eoi fugientia terga secutus,
     territus ad Nili dum ruit ille caput.

he had been laid to rest, likewise an unimpaired comrade,
     a soldier and ever stoutly dutiful to Augustus.
the rocks of fishy Pelorus saw him
     return the timbers of an enemy ship to hostile fires;
at Philippi they saw him brave in Emathian dust:
     how weighty a foe was he who is now so tender.
when the broad hulls veiled the Nilean straits,
     he was brave on every side, brave even before the leader,
having pursued the fleeing backs of the Eastern soldiery,
     while that man, terrified, rushed to the head of the Nile.

pax erat: haec illos laxarunt otia cultus:
     omnia uictores Marte sedente decent.
Actius ipse lyram plectro percussit eburno,
     postquam uictrices conticuere tubae.
hic modo miles erat, ne posset femina Romam
     dotalem stupri turpis habere sui,
hic tela in profugos (tantum curuauerat arcum)
     misit ad extremos exorientis equos.

There was peace: these leisures relaxed them for refinements:
     all things befit victors with Mars sitting idle.
The Actian himself struck the lyre with an ivory plectrum,
     after the victorious trumpets had fallen silent.
This man just now was a soldier, lest a woman might be able
     to hold dowried Rome as the price of her own foul debauchery,
this man sent missiles at the fugitives (so far had he bent his bow)
     to the farthest horses of the rising East.

Bacche, coloratos postquam deuicimus Indos,
     potasti galea dulce iuuante merum,
et tibi securo tunicae fluxere solutae;
     te puto purpureas tunc habuisse duas.
sum memor et certe memini sic ducere thyrsos
     bracchia purpurea candidiora niue;
et tibi thyrsus erat gemmis ornatus et auro:
     serpentes hederae uix habuere locum.
argentata tuos etiam talaria talos
     uinxerunt certe nec puto, Bacche, negas.

Bacchus, after we had vanquished the colored Indians,
     you drank pure wine from a helmet, sweet aid assisting,
and for you, with no care, tunics flowed loosened;
     I think you then had two purpureous ones.
I am mindful and surely I remember your thus bearing the thyrsi,
     your purpureous arms whiter than snow;
and your thyrsus was adorned with gems and with gold:
     the serpents, the ivies, scarcely had room.
argent talaria even bound your ankles,
     surely—and I do not think, Bacchus, you deny it.

mollius es solito mecum tum multa locutus,
     et tibi consulto uerba fuere noua.
impiger Alcide, multo defuncte labore,
     sic memorant curas te posuisse tuas,
sic te cum tenera multum lusisse puella
     oblitum Nemeae iamque, Erymanthe, tui.
ultra numquid erat?

you were softer than usual with me then, speaking many things,
     and, by design, the words were novel to you.
tireless Alcides, discharged from much labor,
     thus they recount that you put down your cares,
thus that you played much with a tender girl,
     forgetful of Nemea and now of you, Erymanthus.
was there anything beyond?

torsisti pollice fusos,
     lenisti morsu leuia fila parum;
percussit crebros te propter Lydia nodos,
     te propter dura stamina rupta manu,
Lydia te tunicas iussit lasciua fluentes
     inter lanificas ducere saepe suas.
claua torosa tua pariter cum pelle iacebat,
     quam pede suspenso percutiebat Amor.
quis fore credebat, premeret cum iam impiger infans
     hydros ingentes uix capiente manu,
cumue renascentem meteret uelociter hydram,
     frangeret immanes uel Diomedis equos,
uel tribus aduersis communem fratribus aluum
     et sex aduersas solus in arma manus?

you twisted the spindles with your thumb,
     you softened the light threads a little with a bite;
Lydia, on your account, struck frequent knots,
     on your account the tough warp-threads were snapped by hand,
the lascivious Lydia ordered you often to trail flowing tunics
     among her wool-working girls.
your brawny club lay together with the pelt,
     which Love would tap with a dangling foot.
who would have believed that he, when already an energetic infant,
     pressed huge serpents with a hand scarcely able to grasp them,
or would swiftly reap the re-sprouting Hydra,
     would break the immense horses of Diomedes,
or, against three hostile brothers sharing one belly,
     and six hostile hands, would go alone to arms?

fudit Aloidas postquam dominator Olympi,
     dicitur in nitidum percubuisse diem
atque aquilam mississe suam quae quaereret ecquid
     posset amaturo signa referre Ioui,
ualle sub Idaea dum te, formose sacerdos,
     inuenit et presso molliter ungue rapit.
sic est: uictor amet, uictor potiatur in umbra,
     uictor odorata dormiat inque rosa;
uictus aret uictusque metat, metus imperet illi,
     membra nec in strata sternere discat humo.
tempora dispensant usus et tempora cultus,
     haec homines, pecudes, haec moderantur aues
lux est, taurus arat; nox est, requiescit arator,
     liberat et merito feruida colla boui.

after the dominator of Olympus had routed the Aloidae,
     he is said to have reclined in the shining day,
and to have sent his eagle to seek whether it
     could bring back signs for Jupiter about to love,
while in an Idaean vale it found you, beautiful priest,
     and softly seized you with a pressed talon.
so it is: let the victor love, let the victor possess in the shade,
     let the victor sleep on the fragrant rose;
let the vanquished plow and let the vanquished reap, let fear rule him,
     nor let him learn to lay his limbs on spread earth.
seasons dispense the tasks, and seasons the cultivation—
     these govern men, herd-beasts, these govern birds.
it is light, the bull plows; it is night, the plowman rests,
     and with good desert it frees the ox’s hot neck.

conglaciantur aquae, scopulis se condit hirundo;
     uerberat egelidos garrula uere lacus.
Caesar amicus erat: poterat uixisse solute,
     cum iam Caesar idem quod cupiebat erat.
indulsit merito: non est temerarius ille;
     uicimus: Augusto iudice dignus erat.

the waters are congealed, the swallow hides itself in the crags;
     the garrulous one in spring lashes the egelid lakes.
Caesar was a friend: he could have lived freely,
     since now Caesar was the same as what he desired.
he indulged deservedly: that man is not temerarious;
     we have prevailed: with Augustus as judge he was worthy.

Argo saxa pauens postquam Scyllaea relegit
     Cyaneosque metus iam religanda ratis,
uiscera dissecti mutauerat arietis agno
     Aeetis sucis omniperita suis:
his te, Maecenas, iuuenescere posse decebat;
     haec utinam nobis Colchidos herba foret!
redditur arboribus florens reuirentibus aetas;
     ergo non homini quod fuit ante redit,
uiuacesque magis ceruos decet esse pauentes
     si quorum in torua cornua fronte rigent?
uiuere cornices multos dicuntur in annos;
     cur nos angusta condicione sumus?

After the Argo, shuddering, had repassed the Scyllaean rocks
     and, dreading the Cyaneae, the raft now needing to be bound again,
the viscera of a dissected ram she had transformed into a lamb
     by her own juices, the all‑skilled daughter of Aeetes:
by these it were fitting that you, Maecenas, could grow young again;
     would that this Colchian herb were ours!
a flowering age is restored to trees as they green again;
     therefore does not what was before return to man,
and should stags, more long‑lived, be quaking
     if there are those whose horns stand rigid on a grim brow?
crows are said to live for many years;
     why are we under a straitened condition?

pascitur Aurorae Tithonus nectare coniunx,
     atque ita iam tremulo nulla senecta nocet:
ut tibi uita foret semper medicamine sacro,
     te uellem Aurorae complacuisse uirum.
illius aptus eras croceo recubare cubili,
     et modo poeniceum rore lauante torum
illius aptus eras roseas adiungere bigas,
     tu dare purpurea lora regenda manu,
tu mulcere iubam, cum iam torsisset habenas
     procedente die, respicientis equi.
quaesiuere chori iuuenem sic Hesperon illum,
     quem nexum medio soluit in igne Venus,
quem nunc in fuscis placida sub nocte nitentem
     Luciferum contra currere cernis equis:
hic tibi Corycium, casias hic donat olentis,
     hic e palmiferis balsama missa iugis.

Tithonus, husband of Aurora, is fed with nectar,
     and so now no old age harms him with trembling:
that for you life might be always by a sacred medicament,
     I would wish you to have pleased Aurora as her man.
you were apt to recline on her saffron-hued couch,
     and now on the Phoenician-crimson bed as the dew washed it;
you were apt to yoke her rosy two-horse chariot,
     you to give the purple reins to a governing hand,
you to soothe the mane, when now he had twisted the reins,
     as the day advanced, of the horse looking back.
thus the choruses sought that youth, Hesperus,
     whom Venus loosed, bound in the mid-fire,
whom now you see, shining beneath peaceful night in the dusky (heavens),
     to run opposite to Lucifer with dark horses:
this one gives you Corycian crocus, this one gives fragrant cassias,
     this one balms sent from palm-bearing ridges.

nunc pretium candoris habes, nunc redditur umbris:
     te sumus obliti decubuisse senem.
et Pylium fleuere sui ter Nestora canum
     dicebantque tamen non satis esse senem:
Nestoris annosi uicisses saecula, si me
     dispensata tibi stamina nente forent.
nunc ego quod possum: tellvs levis ossa teneto,&
     pendvla librato pondvs et ipsa tvvm.

now you have the reward of your candor, now it is rendered to the shades:
     we have forgotten that you lay down an old man.
and the Pylians wept their thrice-grey Nestor,
     and yet they said he was not old enough:
you would have outstripped the ages of time-worn Nestor, if for you
     the apportioned threads had been spun by me.
now what I can: light earth, hold his bones,&
     and you yourself, hanging, poise your own weight.

semper serta tibi dabimvs, tibi semper odores,&
non vmqvam sitiens, florida semper eris.

we will always give you garlands, to you always odors,&
not ever thirsting, you will always be flowery.

Sic est Maecenas fato ueniente locutus,
     frigidus et iamiam cum moriturus erat:
'mene' inquit 'iuuenis primaeui, Iuppiter, ante
     angustum Drusi non cecidisse diem!
pectore maturo fuerat puer, integer aeuo,
     et magnum magni Caesaris illud opus.
discidio uellemque prius; ' non omnia dixit
     inciditque pudor quae prope dixit amor,
sed manifestus erat.

Thus did Maecenas speak with fate coming on,
     chill, and even now when he was about to die:
'Me,' he says, 'a youth in first prime, Jupiter, to have not fallen before
     the narrow day of Drusus!
with a mature breast he had been a boy, integral in age,
     and that was a great work of great Caesar.
I would have wished for a sundering sooner;' he did not say everything
     and modesty fell upon the things which love nearly said,
but he was manifest.

moriens quaerebat amatae
     coniugis amplexus oscula uerba manus.
'sed tamen hoc satis est: uixi te, Caesar, amico
     et morior' dixit, 'dum moriarque, sat est.
mollibus ex oculis aliquis tibi procidet umor,
     cum dicar subita uoce fuisse tibi.

dying, he was seeking the embraces, kisses, words, the hands of his beloved consort.
'but yet this is enough: I have lived, Caesar, your friend,
and I die,' he said, 'and, so long as I die, it is enough.
some moisture will drop from your soft eyes,
when by a sudden voice I am said to have been yours.

hoc mihi contingat, iaceam tellure sub aequa;
     nec tamen hoc ultra te doluisse uelim,
sed meminisse uelim: uiuam sermonibus illic;
     semper ero, semper si meminisse uoles.
et decet et certe uiuam tibi semper amore,
     nec tibi qui moritur desinit esse tuus.
ipse ego quicquid ero cineres interque fauillas,
     tum quoque non potero non memor esse tui.

may this befall me, let me lie beneath level earth;
     nor yet would I wish you to have grieved beyond this,
but I would wish you to remember: I shall live there in discourses;
     I shall always be, always, if you will to remember.
and it is fitting and surely I shall live for you always in love,
     nor does he who dies for you cease to be yours.
I myself, whatever I shall be among cinders and among embers,
     then too I shall not be able not to be mindful of you.

exemplum uixi te propter molle beati,
     unus Maecenas teque ego propter eram.
arbiter ipse fui, uolui quod contigit esse,
     pectus eram uere pectoris ipse tui.
uiue diu, mi care, senex pete sidera sero:
     est opus hoc terris, te quoque uelle decet.

i have lived, because of you, a soft exemplar of the blessed,
     o unique Maecenas, and i too existed because of you.
i myself was arbiter; to be what i wished has come to pass,
     i was truly a heart of your very heart.
live long, my dear; as an old man seek the stars late:
     this is needful for the lands; it is fitting that you, too, should will it.

et tibi succrescant iuuenes bis Caesare digni
     et tradant porro Caesaris usque genus.
sit secura tibi quam primum Liuia coniunx,
     expleat amissi munera rupta gener.
cum deus intereris diuis insignis auitis,
     te Venus in patrio collocet ipsa sinu.'

and may there grow up for you two youths worthy of Caesar,
     and may they hand on further the line of Caesar unbroken.
let Livia your consort be secure to you as soon as may be,
     let a son-in-law fulfill the sundered offices of the one lost.
when, as a god, you shall enter among the gods, illustrious with your ancestors,
     may Venus herself place you in her ancestral bosom.'

CIRIS

Etsi me uario iactatum laudis amore
irritaque expertum fallacis praemia uulgi
Cecropius suauis expirans hortulus auras
florentis uiridi sophiae complectitur umbra,
mensque, ut quiret eo dignum sibi quaerere carmen,
longe aliud studium inque alios accincta labores
altius ad magni suspexit sidera mundi
et placitum paucis ausa est ascendere collem,
non tamen absistam coeptum detexere munus,
in quo iure meas utinam requiescere musas
et leuiter blandum liceat deponere amorem.
quod si mirificum genus omnes . . . . .
mirificum sedi modo sit tibi uelle libido,
si mihi iam summas sapientia panderet arces,
quattuor antiquis heredibus est data consors,
unde hominum errores longe lateque per orbem
despicere atque humilis possem contemnere curas,
non ego te talem uenerarer munere tali,
non equidem (quamuis interdum ludere nobis
et gracilem molli liceat pede claudere uersum),
sed magno intexens, si fas est dicere, peplo,
qualis Erectheis olim portatur Athenis,
debita cum castae soluuntur uota Mineruae
tardaque confecto redeunt quinquennia lustro,
cum leuis alterno Zephyrus concrebuit Euro
et prono grauidum prouexit pondere currum.
felix illa dies, felix et dicitur annus,
felices qui talem annum uidere diemque.

Although, tossed by the various love of praise
and provoked, having experienced the rewards of the fallacious crowd,
the sweet Cecropian little garden, breathing out breezes,
embraces with the green shade of blooming sophia,
and my mind, so that it might be able to seek for itself a song worthy of it,
girded for quite another pursuit and for other labors,
looked up higher to the stars of the great world
and dared to ascend the hill pleasing to the few,
yet I will not desist from weaving out the task begun,
in which—by right—would that my Muses might rest,
and it be permitted to lay down lightly the alluring love.
but if the wondrous kind all . . . . .
a wondrous thing—if only the desire to will it had but taken seat in you,
if wisdom were now to open the highest citadels to me,
it has been given as consort to the four ancient heirs,
whence I might look down upon the errors of men far and wide through the orb
and despise lowly cares;
not would I venerate you thus with such a gift,
not indeed (although it is sometimes permitted for us to play
and to close a slender verse with a soft foot),
but weaving into a great peplos, if it be lawful to say,
such as once is carried in Erechthean Athens,
when the due vows are paid to chaste Minerva
and the quinquennia return with the lustrum completed,
when the light Zephyr has thickened with the alternating Eurus
and with a slanting weight has borne along the laden chariot.
happy that day, and happy is the year called,
happy they who have seen such a year and day.

ergo Palladiae texuntur in ordine pugnae,
magna Giganteis ornantur pepla tropaeis,
horrida sanguineo pinguntur proelia cocco,
additur aurata deiectus cuspide Typhon,
qui prius Ossaeis consternens aethera saxis
Emathio celsum duplicabat uertice Olympum.
tale deae uelum sollemni tempore portant,
tali te uellem, iuuenum doctissime, ritu
purpureos inter soles et candida lunae
sidera, caeruleis orbem pulsantia bigis,
naturae rerum magnis intexere chartis,
aeterno ut sophiae coniunctum carmine nomen
nostra tuum senibus loqueretur pagina saeclis.
sed quoniam ad tantas nunc primum nascimur artes,
nunc primum teneros firmamus robore neruos,
haec tamen interea quae possumus, in quibus aeui
prima rudimenta et iuuenes exegimus annos,
accipe dona meo multum uigilata labore
promissa atque diu iam tandem . . . . .
impia prodigiis ut quondam exterruit amplis
Scylla nouos auium sublimis in aere coetus
auxerit et tenui conscendens aethera penna
caeruleis sua tecta super uolitauerit alis,
hanc pro purpureo poenam scelerata capillo
pro patria soluens excisa et funditus urbe.

therefore the Palladian battles are woven in order,
great pepla are adorned with Giant trophies,
grim battles are painted in blood-red scarlet,
Typhon cast down by the gilded spear-cusp is added,
who earlier, strewing the aether with the rocks of Ossa,
was doubling lofty Olympus with Emathian peak.
such a veil of the goddess they bear at the solemn season,
in such rite I would wish you, most learned of youths,
among the purple suns and the white stars of the moon,
beating the orb with cerulean chariots,
to weave the nature of things on great charts,
so that our page, with sophia joined to an eternal song,
might speak your name to age-worn generations.
but since we are now for the first time born to such great arts,
now for the first time we strengthen our tender sinews with vigor,
yet meanwhile receive these things which we can, in which we passed
the first rudiments of our age and our youthful years,
gifts much kept awake by my labor, promised and now at last long . . . . .
how once impious Scylla with vast prodigies terrified
the new gatherings of birds high in the air,
and, mounting the aether with slender feather,
flew above her own roofs on cerulean wings,
she paying this penalty for the crimson criminal lock
for her fatherland, the city cut down and razed from the foundations.

complures illam magni, Messalla, poetae
(nam uerum fateamur: amat Polyhymnia uerum)
longe alia perhibent mutatam membra figura
Scyllaeum monstro saxum infestasse uoraci;
illam esse aerumnis quam saepe legamus Vlixi
candida succinctam latrantibus inguina monstris
Dulichias uexasse rates et gurgite in alto
deprensos nautas canibus lacerasse marinis.
sed neque Maeoniae patiuntur credere chartae
nec malus istorum dubiis erroribus auctor.
namque alias alii uulgo finxere puellas
quae Colophoniaco Scyllae dicantur Homero.

many great poets, Messalla, report that she (for let us confess the truth: Polyhymnia loves the truth) with her limbs changed into a far different figure, infested the Scyllaean rock with a voracious monster; that she is the bane of Ulysses’s hardships, which we so often read, white-girdled at the loins with barking monsters, that she harried the Dulichian ships and, in the deep whirlpool, tore to pieces the sailors she had seized with sea-dogs. But neither do the Maeonian pages permit us to believe this, nor is the author of those dubious wanderings a bad one. For different men have commonly fashioned other maidens who are said to be Scylla in the Colophonian Homer.

ipse Crataein ait matrem, sed siue Crataeis,
siue illam monstro generauit Echidna biformi,
siue necutra parens atque hoc in carmine toto
inguinis est uitium et ueneris descripta libido;
siue etiam iactis speciem mutata uenenis
infelix uirgo (quid enim commiserat illa?);
siue pater timidam saeua complexus harena
coniugium castae uiolauerat Amphitrites,
at tamen exegit longo post tempore poenas,
ut, cum cura sui ueheretur coniugis alto,
ipsa trucem multo misceret sanguine pontum
seu uero, ut perhibent, forma cum uinceret omnis
et cupidos quaestu passim popularet amantes,
horribilis circum uidit se existere formas,
piscibus et canibusque malis uallata repente est
(heu quotiens mirata nouos expalluit artus
ipsa suos, quotiens heu pertimuit latratus),
ausa quod est mulier numen fraudare deorum
et dictam Veneri notorum uertere poenam,
quam mala multiplici iuuenum consaepta caterua
dixerat atque modo meretrix uulgata ferarum
(infamem tali merito rumore fuisse
docta Palaepaphiae testatur uoce Pachynus):
quidquid et ut quisque est tali de clade locutus,
omnia sim: potius liceat notescere cirin
atque unam ex multis Scyllam non esse puellis.
quare, quae cantus meditanti mittere cocos
magna mihi cupido tribuistis praemia, diuae
Pierides, quarum castos altaria postis
munere saepe meo inficiunt foribusque hyacinthi
deponunt flores aut suaue rubens narcissus
aut crocus alterna coniungens lilia caltha
sparsaque liminibus floret rosa, nunc age, diuae,
praecipue nostro nunc aspirate labori
atque nouum aeterno praetexite honore uolumen.
sunt Pandioniis uicinae sedibus urbes
Actaeos inter colles et candida Thesei
purpureis late ridentia litora conchis,
quarum non ulli fama concedere digna
stat Megara, Alcathoi quondam murata labore,
Alcathoi Phoebique; deus namque affuit illi,
unde etiam citharae uoces imitatus acutas
saepe lapis recrepat Cyllenia murmura pulsus
et ueterem sonitu Phoebi testatur honorem.

he himself says Crataeis as mother, but whether Crataeis,
or whether Echidna, the biform monster, begot her,
or whether neither is parent and in this whole song
the blemish is of the groin and the libido of Venus is described;
or even whether, her appearance changed by hurled venoms,
the unhappy maiden (for what had she committed?);
or whether her father, having embraced the timid girl with cruel sand,
had violated the marriage of chaste Amphitrite—
yet nevertheless after a long time he exacted the penalties,
so that, when the care of her husband was being borne upon the deep,
she herself would mix the grim sea with much blood—
or truly, as they report, when she surpassed all in beauty
and for gain everywhere plundered eager lovers,
she saw horrible forms arise around her;
she was suddenly walled in by fishes and evil dogs
(alas how often, marveling at her new limbs, she grew pale
at her very own, how often, alas, she feared the barking),
because the woman dared to defraud the numen of the gods
and to turn the punishment assigned to Venus upon her paramours,
she whom, hemmed in by an evil manifold crowd of youths,
he had called and now a meretrix made common to wild beasts
(that she was ill-famed with such-deserved rumor
learned Pachynus attests with Palaepaphian voice):
whatever, and however each has spoken about such a disaster,
let all be so: rather let it be permitted to be known as the Ciris
and that Scylla be not one from among many maidens.
wherefore, you goddesses
Pierides, who have granted me to send scarlets as great prizes
to one practicing songs, whose chaste door-post altars
they often stain by my gift and on whose doors the hyacinth
lays down its flowers, or the sweet-blushing narcissus,
or the crocus joining lilies alternately with the marigold,
and the rose, scattered on thresholds, blooms—now come, goddesses,
especially now breathe favor on our labor
and fringe the new volume with eternal honor.
there are cities neighboring the Pandionian seats
among the Actaean hills and the bright shores of Theseus,
laughing far and wide with purple shells,
of which to none does fame, worthy, bid to yield: there stands Megara,
once walled by the toil of Alcathous—of Alcathous and of Phoebus;
for the god was present to him, whence also, imitating the shrill voices
of the cithara, the stone, often when struck, re-echoes Cyllenian murmurs
and by its sound attests the ancient honor of Phoebus.

hanc urbem, ante alios qui tum florebat in armis,
fecerat infestam populator remige Minos,
hospitio quod se Nisi Polyidos auito
Carpathium fugiens et flumina Caeratea
texerat. hunc bello repetens Gortynius heros
Attica Cretaea sternebat rura sagitta.
sed neque tum ciues neque tum rex ipse ueretur
infesto ad muros uolitantis agmine turmas
dicere et indomitas uirtute retundere mentes,
responsum quoniam satis est meminisse deorum.

this city, which then before others was flourishing in arms,
the ravager Minos with his oar-crew had made hostile,
because Polyidus, under the ancestral hospitality of Nisus,
fleeing the Carpathian Sea and the Caeratean streams,
had hidden himself. Seeking to recover this man by war, the Gortynian hero
was laying low the Attic fields with Cretan arrow.
but neither then the citizens nor then the king himself does he shrink
to call out squadrons, flying with a hostile column to the walls,
and to blunt untamed spirits by valor,
since it is enough to remember the response of the gods.

nam capite ab summo regis, mirabile dictu,
candida caesarie florebant tempora lauro
et roseus medio surgebat uertice crinis,
cuius quam seruata diu natura fuisset,
tam patriam incolumem Nisi regnumque futurum
concordes stabili firmarunt numine Parcae.
ergo omnis caro residebat cura capillo,
aurea sollemni comptum quem fibula ritu
Cecropiae tereti nectebat dente cicadae.
nec uero haec urbis custodia uana fuisset
(nec fuerat), ni Scylla nouo correpta furore,
Scylla, patris miseri patriaeque inuenta sepulcrum,
o nimium cupidis Minoa inhiasset ocellis.

for from the very top of the king’s head, marvelous to say,
his temples were flourishing with laurel, with white hair,
and a rosy lock rose from the middle of the crown,
and the longer its nature should be preserved,
so long would the fatherland of Nisus and his kingdom be unharmed,
the concordant Fates confirmed with a steadfast numen.
therefore all precious care resided in the hair,
which a golden fibula, in solemn rite adorned,
was fastening with the rounded tooth of a Cecropian cicada.
nor indeed would this guardianship of the city have been vain
(nor had it been), if Scylla, seized by a new frenzy,
Scylla, who proved the sepulcher of her wretched father and fatherland,
had not, O with too desirous little eyes, gaped after Minos.

sed malus ille puer, quem nec sua flectere mater
iratum potuit, quem nec pater atque auus idem
Iuppiter (ille etiam Poenos domitare leones
et ualidas docuit uires mansuescere tigris,
ille etiam diuos, homines; sed dicere magnum est),
idem tum tristis acuebat paruulus iras
Iunonis magnae, cuius periura puella
olim (sed meminere diu periuria diuae)
non ulli licitam uiolauerat inscia sedem,
dum sacris operata deae lasciuit et extra
procedit longe matrum comitumque cateruam,
suspensam gaudens in corpore ludere uestem
et tumidos agitante sinus aquilone relaxans.
necdum etiam castos gustauerat ignis honores,
necdum sollemni lympha perfusa sacerdos
pallentis foliis caput exornarat oliuae,
cum lapsa e manibus fugit pila quoque ea lapsa est
procurrit uirgo. quod uti ne prodita ludo
aureolam gracili soluisses corpore pallam.

but that wicked boy, whom not even his own mother
could bend when angry, whom neither father nor the same grandsire,
Jupiter (he even taught Punic lions to be tamed
and the strong powers of tigers to grow mild,
he even [taught] divinities, men; but it is great to tell),
the same little one then, grim, was sharpening the angers
of great Juno, whose perjured girl
once (but goddesses remember perjuries long)
unknowing had violated the seat permitted to no one,
while, busied with the sacred rites of the goddess, she frolicked and far beyond
the band of mothers and companions she went forth,
rejoicing to make the garment hanging upon her body play
and, with Aquilo agitating, loosening her swelling folds.
and not yet had she even tasted the chaste honors of the fire,
nor had the priestess, bathed with solemn lympha, adorned her head
with the pale leaves of the olive,
when, slipping from her hands, the ball too slipped away;
the maiden runs forward; and so that, betrayed by the sport,
she might not loosen the golden-tinged mantle from her slender body.

omnia quae retinere gradum cursusque morari
possent, o tecum uellem tua semper haberes.
non, numquam uiolata manu sacraria diuae
iurando, infelix, nequiquam periurasses.
et, si quis nocuisse tibi periuria credat
causa pia est: timuit fratri te ostendere Iuno.

all the things that could hold back your step and delay your course
O would that you had always had your own with you.
not, by swearing that the sanctuaries of the goddess had never been violated by hand,
unhappy one, would you have perjured yourself to no purpose.
and, if anyone believes that perjuries have harmed you,
the cause is pious: Juno feared to show you to her brother.

at leuis ille deus, cui semper ad ulciscendum
quaeritur ex omni uerborum iniuria dictu,
aurea fulgenti depromens tela pharetra
(heu nimium certo, nimium, thirintia missu)
uirginis in tenera defixit acumina mente.
quae simul ut uenis hausit sitientibus ignem
et ualidum penitus concepit in ossa furorem,
saeua uelut gelidis Edonum Bistonis oris
ictaue barbarico Cybeles antistita buxo
infelix uirgo tota bacchatur in urbe,
non storace Idaeo fragrantis cincta capillos,
coccina non teneris pedibus Sicyonia seruans,
non niueo retinens bacata monilia collo.
multum illi incerto trepidant uestigia cursu;
saepe petit patrios ascendere perdita muros
aeriasque facit causam se uisere turris;
saepe etiam tristis uoluens in nocte querelas
sedibus ex altis caeli speculatur amorem
castraque prospectat crebris lucentia flammis.

but that light god, for whom, for avenging, some utterance is always sought from every injury of words,
drawing forth golden shafts from his gleaming quiver
(alas, too sure—too sure—by a Thirintian cast),
fixed the points in the tender mind of the maiden.
As soon as she drank the fire with thirsty veins
and conceived a strong madness deep in her bones,
fierce, like on the icy shores of Bistonian Edoni,
or as a priestess of Cybele struck by barbarian boxwood,
the ill-fated maiden runs Bacchic through the whole city—
not girt with Idaean storax fragrant in her hair,
not keeping Sicyonian scarlet on her tender feet,
not holding bead-set necklaces on her snow-white neck.
Her footsteps quiver much in an uncertain course;
often, undone, she seeks to climb her father’s walls
and makes it her pretext to go look upon the airy towers;
often too, turning over sad complaints in the night,
from lofty seats she keeps watch for her love,
and looks out toward the camp gleaming with frequent flames.

nulla colum nouit, carum non respicit aurum,
non arguta sonant tenui psalteria chorda,
non Libyco molles plauduntur pectine telae;
nullus in ore rubor: ubi enim rubor, obstat amori.
atque ubi nulla malis reperit solacia tantis
tabidulamque uidet labi per uiscera mortem,
quo uocat ire dolor, subigunt quo tendere fata,
fertur et horribili praeceps impellitur oestro,
ut patris, a demens, crinem de uertice serum
furtiue arguto detonsum mitteret hosti.
namque haec condicio miserae proponitur una,
siue illa ignorans (quis non bonus omnia malit
credere quam tanti sceleris damnare puellam?);
heu tamen infelix: quid enim imprudentia prodest?

she knows no distaff, she does not regard dear gold,
the psaltery does not ring with its shrilling, tenuous string,
the soft webs are not clapped by the Libyan comb;
there is no blush on her face: for where there is blush, it stands in the way of love.
and when she finds no consolations for such great evils
and sees a wasting death gliding through her viscera,
where pain calls to go, where the fates compel to aim,
she is borne and headlong is driven by a horrible oestrus,
so that—ah, demented!—she might send to the shrewd foe, by stealth, hair shorn
from her father’s crown, a belated lock.
for this one condition is set forth to the wretched girl,
whether she, unknowing (who among good men would not rather
believe everything than condemn the maiden of so great a crime?);
alas, nevertheless unlucky: for what does imprudence avail?

Nise pater, cui direpta crudeliter urbe
uix erit una super sedes in turribus altis
fessus ubi extructo possis considere nido,
tum quoque auis metuere: dabit tibi filia poenas.
gaudete, o celeres, subnixae nubibus altis,
quae mare, quae uiridis siluas lucosque sonantis
incolitis, gaudete, uagae, gaudete, uolucres,
uosque adeo, humanos mutatae corporis artus,
uos o crudeli fatorum lege, puellae
Dauliades, gaudete: uenit carissima uobis
cognatos augens reges numerumque suorum
ciris et ipse pater. uos, o pulcherrima quondam
corpora, caeruleas praeuertite in aethera nubes,
qua nouus ad superum sedes haliaeetos et qua
candida concessos ascendat ciris honores.

Father Nisus, for whom, with the city cruelly plundered,
scarcely will there be a single perch left upon the high towers,
weary, where on a built-up nest you may be able to sit down—
then too, as a bird, be afraid: your daughter will pay you penalties.
Rejoice, O swift ones, propped upon the high clouds,
you who inhabit the sea, who the green forests and the sounding groves,
rejoice, you wandering ones, rejoice, you birds,
and you as well, you who have been changed from human bodily limbs,
you, O girls of Daulis, by the cruel law of the fates,
rejoice: she most dear to you comes,
augmenting her kindred kings and the number of her own—
the ciris, and her father himself. You, O bodies once most beautiful,
outstrip the cerulean clouds into the upper aether,
where the new sea-eagle (haliaeetus) goes to the seats of the gods, and where
the shining-white ciris may ascend the allotted honors.

iamque adeo dulci deuinctus lumina somno
Nisus erat uigilumque procul custodia primis
excubias foribus studio iactabat inani,
cum furtim tacito descendens Scylla cubili
auribus arrectis nocturna silentia temptat
et pressis tenuem singultibus aera captat.
tum suspensa leuans digitis uestigia primis
egreditur ferroque manus armata bidenti
auolat: at demptae subita in formidine uires.
caeruleas sua furta prius testatur ad umbras;
nam qua se ad patrium tendebat semita limen,
uestibulo in thalami paulum remoratur et alte
suspicit ad clari nictantia sidera mundi,
non accepta piis promittens munera diuis.

and now indeed Nisus’s eyes were bound by sweet sleep,
and, far off, the guard of the first watch was making a show of sentry-duty at the doors with idle zeal,
when Scylla, stealing down from her silent couch,
with ears pricked up tests the nocturnal silences
and, with pressed-down sobs, catches the thin air.
then, poised, lifting her footsteps on her foremost toes,
she goes out, and her hand armed with a bident of iron
she flies off; but her strength is taken away in sudden fear.
to the cerulean shades she first calls her thefts to witness;
for where the path was tending toward her father’s threshold,
she lingers a little in the vestibule of the bedchamber and, high,
looks up to the winking stars of the bright world,
promising gifts not accepted by the pious gods.

quam simul Ogygii Phoenicis filia Carme
surgere sensit anus, sonitum nam fecerat illi
marmoreo aeratus stridens in limine cardo,
corripit extemplo fessam languore puellam
et simul 'o nobis sacrum caput' inquit 'alumna,
non tibi nequiquam uiridis per uiscera pallor
aegroto tenuis suffundit sanguine uenas,
nec leuis hoc faceret, neque enim pote, cura subegit,
aut fallor: quod ut o potius, Rhamnusia, fallar.
nam qua te causa nec dulcis pocula Bacchi
nec grauidos Cereris dicam contingere fetus;
qua causa ad patrium solam uigilare cubile,
tempore quo fessas mortalia pectora curas,
quo rapidos etiam requiescunt flumina cursus?
dic age nunc miserae saltem, quod saepe petenti
iurabas nihil esse mihi, cur maesta parentis
formosos circum uirgo remorere capillos.

as soon as Carme, daughter of the Ogygian Phoenician, the old woman,
sensed her to rise—for the bronze-clad hinge, creaking on the marble threshold,
had made a sound to her—she immediately seizes the girl, weary with languor,
and at once says: “O sacred head to us, alumna,
not for nothing does green pallor through your viscera suffuse your veins
with thin, sickly blood; nor has a slight care wrought this—nor indeed could it—
or I am mistaken: which, O Rhamnusian, would that I rather be mistaken.
for by what cause am I to say you do not touch the sweet cups of Bacchus
nor the gravid yields of Ceres; by what cause to keep vigil alone by the paternal couch,
at the time when cares unyoke weary mortal hearts,
when even rivers rest their rapid courses?
come, tell now at least to the wretched one, what, to me so often asking,
you swore was nothing—why, maiden, sad, you linger around your parent’s
beautiful locks.”

ei mihi, ne furor ille tuos inuaserit artus,
ille Arabae Myrrhae quondam qui cepit ocellos,
ut scelere infando (quod nec sinat Adrastea)
laedere utrumque uno studeas errore parentem.
quod si alio quouis animi iactaris amore
(nam te iactari, non est Amathusia nostri
tam rudis ut nullo possim cognoscere signo),
si concessus amor noto te macerat igni,
per tibi Dictynae praesentia numina iuro,
prima deum dulcem mihi quae te donat alumnam,
omnia me potius digna atque indigna laborum
milia uisuram, quam te tam tristibus istis
sordibus et senio patiar tabescere tali.'
haec loquitur mollique ut se uelauit amictu
frigidulam iniecta circumdat ueste puellam,
quae prius in tenui steterat succincta crocota.
dulcia deinde genis rorantibus oscula figens
persequitur miserae causas exquirere tabis.

ah me, lest that fury have invaded your limbs, that which once seized the little eyes of Arabian Myrrha, so that by an unspeakable crime (which may Adrastea not allow) you strive to wound each parent by a single error. But if you are tossed by any other love whatsoever of the soul (for that you are tossed, our Amathusia is not so rude that I cannot recognize it by some sign), if a conceded love is wasting you with a known fire, by the present divinities of Dictynna I swear to you, who first of the gods gives you to me as a sweet foster-child, that I would sooner see all thousands of toils, worthy and unworthy, than suffer you to waste away in those so gloomy sordidnesses and in such decay.'
she says these things and, when she has veiled herself with a soft mantle, she wraps the chilly little girl with a garment thrown around her, she who previously had stood girded in a thin saffron-dyed crocota. then, fixing sweet kisses on her dew-wet cheeks, she proceeds to seek out the causes of the wretched girl’s wasting.

nec tamen ante ullas patitur sibi reddere uoces,
marmoreum tremebunda pedem quam rettulit intra.
illa autem 'quid . . . me' inquit, 'nutricula, torques?
quid tantum properas nostros nouisse furores?

nor yet does she allow herself to utter any words,
before, trembling, she has drawn her foot back inside upon the marble.
she, however, says, 'why . . . me, nurselet, do you torture?
why do you so hasten to come to know our frenzies?'

non ego consueto mortalibus uror amore,
nec mihi notorum deflectunt lumina uultus,
nec genitor cordi est: ultro namque odimus omnis.
nil amat hic animus, nutrix, quod oportet amari,
in quo falsa tamen lateat pietatis imago,
sed media ex acie, mediis ex hostibus; eheu,
quid dicam quoue aegra malum hoc exordiar ore?
dicam equidem, quoniam tu nunc non dicere, nutrix,
non sinis: extremum hoc munus morientis habeto.

I am not burned with the love customary to mortals,
nor do the faces of the known deflect my eyes,
nor is a father dear to my heart: indeed we of our own accord hate all men.
this spirit loves nothing, nurse, that ought to be loved,
in which, nevertheless, a false image of pietas lies hidden,
but from the very battle-line, from the midst of enemies; alas,
what shall I say, or with what mouth, sick at heart, shall I begin this malady?
I will speak indeed, since you now do not allow, nurse,
me not to speak: take this as the last gift of one dying.

ille, uides, nostris qui moenibus assidet hostis,
quem pater ipse deum sceptri donauit honore,
cui Parcae tribuere nec ullo uulnere laedi
(dicendum est, frustra circumuehor omnia uerbis),
ille mea, ille idem oppugnat praecordia Minos.
quod per te diuum crebros obtestor amores
perque tuum memori sanctum mihi pectus alumnae,
ut me, si seruare potes, nec perdere malis,
sin autem optatae spes est incisa salutis,
nec mihi quam merui inuideas, nutricula, mortem.
nam nisi te nobis malus, o malus, optima Carme,
ante in conspectum casusue deusue tulisset,
aut ferro hoc' (aperit ferrum quod ueste latebat)
'purpureum patris dempsissem uertice crinem,
aut mihi praesenti peperissem uulnere letum.'
uix haec ediderat, cum clade exterrita tristi
insontes multo deturpat puluere crinis
et grauiter questu Carme complorat anili:
'o mihi nunc iterum crudelis reddite Minos,
o iterum nostrae Minos inimice senectae,
semper aut olim natae te propter eundem
aut amor insanae luctum portauit alumnae.

he, you see, the enemy who sits besieging our walls,
whom the father of the gods himself endowed with the honor of the scepter,
whom the Fates have allotted to be harmed by no wound
(it must be said; in vain I circle around everything with words),
he—my Minos—he that same one assails my heart-strings. By that which I through you adjure, the frequent loves of the gods,
and by your breast, sacred to me and mindful of your fosterling,
that you, if you can preserve me, do not choose to destroy me;
but if the hope of the desired salvation is cut off,
do not begrudge me, little nurse, the death which I have deserved.
for unless some evil—O evil!—chance or god, best Carme,
had brought you before my sight,
either with this steel' (she opens the steel which lay hidden by her garment)
'I would have taken off the purple lock from my father’s head,
or I would have procured death for myself by a present wound.'
hardly had she uttered these things, when, terrified by the sad disaster,
she defiles her innocent hair with much dust,
and Carme bewails grievously with an old-woman’s lament:
'o render him back to me now again, cruel Minos,
o again, Minos, enemy of our old age,
always either once upon a time because of you the same
either a daughter’s love or the love of a mad fosterling has borne mourning.'

tene ego tam longe capta atque auecta nequiui,
tam graue seruitium, tam duros passa labores,
effugere, o bis iam exitium crudele meorum?
iam iam nec nobis aequo senioribus ullum,
uiuere uti cupiam, uiuit genus. ut quid ego amens
te erepta, o Britomarti, mei spes una sepulcri,
te, Britomarti, diem potui producere uitae?

Is it you that I, captured and carried so far away, could not escape,
so heavy a servitude, having endured such hard labors,
to flee—O twice now the cruel ruin of my own?
Now, now there is for us elders no fair share at all,
that I should wish to live, while the lineage lives. Why do I, out of my mind,
with you snatched away, O Britomartis, the sole hope of my sepulcher,
you, Britomartis—could I prolong the day of my life?

atque utinam celeri nec tantum grata Dianae
uenatus esses uirgo sectata uirorum,
Cnosia nec Partho contendens spicula cornu
Dictaeas ageres ad gramina nota capellas.
numquam tam obnixe fugiens Minois amores
praeceps aerii specula de montis iisses,
unde alii fugisse ferunt et numen Aphaeae
uirginis assignant, alii, quo notior esses,
Dictynam dixere tuo de nomine Lunam.
sint haec uera uelim: mihi certe, nata, peristi;
numquam ego te summo uolitantem uertice . . .
Hyrcanos inter comites agmenque ferarum
conspiciam nec te redeuntem amplexa tenebo.

and would that, swift, you had hunted, maiden, not only pleasing to Diana,
following after men, nor, Cnossian, contending with Parthian horn with little-darts,
you were driving the Dictean she-goats to the well-known grasses.
never, so stubbornly fleeing Minos’s loves,
would you have gone headlong from the lookout of the airy mountain,
whence some say you fled and assign the numen of the maiden Aphaea;
others, that you might be more noted, called the Moon Dictynna from your name.
may these things be true, I would wish: to me surely, daughter, you have perished;
never shall I you flying upon the highest summit . . .
amid Hyrcanian companions and the battle-line of wild beasts
shall I espy, nor, embracing, shall I hold you returning.

uerum haec tum non sic grauia atque indigna fuere,
tum, mea alumna, tui cum spes integra maneret,
nam uox ista meas nondum uiolauerat auris.
tene etiam fortuna mihi crudelis ademit,
tene, o sola meae uiuendi causa senectae?
saepe tuo dulci nequiquam capta sopore,
cum premeret natura, mori me uelle negaui,
ut tibi Corycio glomerarem flammea luto.

but these things then were not thus grievous and unworthy,
then, my foster-child, when hope of you remained intact,
for that voice had not yet violated my ears.
is it you too that cruel Fortune has taken from me,
you, O sole cause of my living in old age?
often, caught in vain by your sweet slumber,
when nature pressed, I denied that I wished to die,
so that for you I might fashion the flame-colored veil with Corycian weld.

quo nunc me, infelix, aut quae me fata reseruant?
an nescis, qua lege patris de uertice summo
edita candentis praetexat purpura canos,
quae tenui patriae spes sit suspensa capillo?
si nescis, aliquam possum sperare salutem,
inscia quandoquidem scelus es conata nefandum;
sin est quod metuo, per te, mea alumna, tuumque
expertum multis miserae mihi rebus amorem,
perdere seua precor per flumina elithie
ne tantum in facinus tam nulla mente feraris.

Where now, unhappy, am I to go, or what Fates reserve me?
Or do you not know, by what law, you, born from your father’s highest crown,
the purple borders veil the gleaming hoary hairs,
what slender hope of the fatherland hangs by a single hair?
If you do not know, I can hope for some salvation,
since, unknowing, you have attempted a nefarious crime;
but if it is what I fear, by you, my foster-daughter, and by your love
proved to me, wretched, in many matters,
by the cruel streams of Eileithyia I pray
do not be borne with so null a mind into so great a wicked deed.

non ego te incepto, fieri quod non pote, conor
flectere amore, nec est cum dis contendere nostrum,
sed patris incolumi potius denubere regno
atque aliquos tamen esse uelis tibi, alumna, penates;
hoc unum exilio docta atque experta monebo.
quod si non ulla poteris ratione parentem
flectere (sed poteris: quid enim non unica possis?),
tum potius tandem ista, pio cum iure licebit,
cum facti causam tempusque doloris habebis,
tum potius conata tua atque incepta referto,
meque deosque tibi comites, mea alumna, futuros
polliceor: nihil est, quod texitur ordine, longum.'
his ubi sollicitos animi releuauerat aestus
uocibus et blanda pectus spe mulserat aegrum,
paulatim tremebunda genis obducere uestem
uirginis et placidam tenebris captare quietem,
inuerso bibulum restinguens lumen oliuo,
incipit ad crebrosque insani pectoris ictus
ferre manum, assiduis mulcens praecordia palmis.
noctem illam sic maesta super marcentis alumnae
frigidulos cubito subnixa pependit ocellos.

I do not try, by love, in your undertaking to make what cannot be come to pass, nor is it ours to contend with the gods,
but rather, while your father’s realm stands unharmed, to renounce the kingship and yet to wish, my foster-child, to have some Penates for yourself;
this one thing, taught and proven by exile, I will advise. But if by no reasoning you will be able to bend your parent (but you will be able: for what could not an only one accomplish?),
then rather at last those things, when it will be permitted by pious right, when you will have the cause of the deed and a time for grief,
then rather resume your attempts and undertakings, and I promise that I and the gods will be companions to you, my foster-child: nothing is long that is woven in order.'
When by these words she had lightened the anxious surges of her spirit and had soothed the ailing breast with coaxing hope,
little by little, trembling, she begins to draw a covering over the maiden’s cheeks and to catch gentle rest by means of darkness,
quenching the drinker-light with the olive-oil lamp turned down,
she begins to bring her hand to the frequent strokes of the maddened breast, soothing the heart with continual palms.
That night thus, sorrowing, she hung, propped on her elbow, over her drooping foster-child’s chilly little eyes.

postera lux ubi laeta diem mortalibus almum
et gelida uenientem ignem quatiebat ab Oeta,
quem pauidae alternis fugitant optantque puellae
(Hesperium uitant, optant ardescere Eoum),
praeceptis paret uirgo nutricis et omnis
undique conquirit nubendi sedula causas.
temptantur patriae submissis uocibus aures
laudanturque bonae pacis bona; multus inepto
uirginis insolitae sermo nouus errat in ore:
nunc tremere instantis belli certamina dicit
communemque timere deum; nunc regis amicis
(namque ipsi uerita est) toruum flet maesta parentem,
cum Ioue communis qui nolit habere nepotes.
nunc etiam conficta dolo mendacia turpi
inuenit et diuum terret formidine ciuis;
nunc alia ex aliis (nec desunt) omina quaerit;
quin etiam castos ausa est corrumpere uates,
ut, cum caesa pio cecidisset uictima ferro,
essent qui generum Minoa auctoribus extis
iungere et ancipitis suaderent tollere pugnas.

when the next glad light was shaking forth for mortals the kindly day
and from Oeta was brandishing the gelid fire as it came,
whom the timorous maidens in turn flee and desire
(the Hesperian they shun, they desire to kindle with the Eoan),
the maiden obeys the precepts of her nurse and, sedulous, everywhere
seeks out all causes for wedding. With low voices the ears
of the fatherland are tested, and the boons of good peace are praised; much new
speech, unwonted to the inept maiden, wanders upon her lips:
now she says one should tremble at the contests of impending war
and fear the common god; now to the king’s friends
(for she feared him himself) sad she laments her grim parent,
who is unwilling to have grandchildren in common with Jove.
Now too she finds lies fabricated by turpid guile
and frightens the citizens with dread of the gods;
now she seeks omens one from another (nor are they lacking);
nay even she dared to corrupt chaste vates,
so that, when the victim had fallen, slaughtered by pious iron,
there might be those who, with the entrails as authorities, would urge
to join Minos as son-in-law and to lift away the two-edged wars.

at nutrix patula componens sulpura testa
narcissum casiamque herbas incendit olentis
terque nouena ligans triplici diuersa colore
fila 'ter in gremium mecum' inquit 'despue, uirgo,
despue ter, uirgo: numero deus impare gaudet.'
inde mago geminata Ioui frigidula sacra,
sacra nec Idaeis anubus nec cognita Grais,
pergit Amyclaeo spargens altaria thallo
regis Iolciacis animum defigere uotis.
uerum ubi nulla mouet stabilem fallacia Nisum,
nec possunt homines nec possunt flectere diui
(tanta est in paruo fiducia crine cauendi),
rursus ad inceptum sociam se adiungit alumnae
purpureumque parat rursus tondere capillum,
tam longo quod iam captat succurrere amori,
non minus illa tamen reuehi quod moenia Cretae
gaudeat: et cineri patria est iucunda sepulto.
ergo iterum capiti Scylla est inimica paterno:
tum coma Sidonio florens deciditur ostro,
tum capitur Megara et diuum responsa probantur,
tum suspensa nouo ritu de nauibus altis
per mare caeruleum trahitur Niseia uirgo.

but the nurse, arranging sulfurs in a wide earthenware pot,
ignites fragrant herbs, narcissus and cassia,
and, thrice binding nine threads differing with triple color,
says, 'thrice into my lap with me spit, maiden,
spit thrice, maiden: a god rejoices in an odd number.'
then come the chilly little rites doubled to Jove by a magus—
rites known neither to the Idaean old women nor to the Greeks—
she proceeds, sprinkling the altars with Amyclaean greenery,
to fasten the king’s spirit with Iolcian vows.
but when no trick moves steadfast Nisus,
and neither men nor gods can bend him
(so great is the confidence in a small lock of hair for warding danger),
again she joins herself as ally to her foster-child for the undertaking
and again prepares to shear the purple hair,
because now she aims to succor a love so long endured,
yet no less does that maiden rejoice to be carried back, because the walls of Crete
delight her: and to buried ash the fatherland is pleasant.
therefore again Scylla is hostile to her father’s head:
then the hair, blooming with Sidonian purple, is cut down,
then Megara is taken and the responses of the gods are approved,
then, hung up by a new rite from tall ships,
across the cerulean sea the Nisaean maiden is dragged.

complures illam nymphae mirantur in undis,
miratur pater Oceanus et candida Tethys
et cupidas secum rapiens Galatea sorores,
illa etiam iunctis magnum quae piscibus aequor
et glauco bipedum curru metitur equorum
Leucothea paruusque dea cum matre Palaemon,
illi etiam alternas sortiti uiuere luces,
cara Iouis suboles, magnum Iouis incrementum,
Tyndaridae niueos mirantur uirginis artus.
has adeo uoces atque haec lamenta per auras
fluctibus in mediis questu uoluebat inani,
ad caelum infelix ardentia lumina tendens,
lumina, nam teneras arcebant uincula palmas:
'supprimite o paulum turbati flamina uenti,
dum queror et diuos (quamquam nil testibus illis
profeci) extrema moriens tamen alloquor hora.
uos ego, uos adeo, uenti, testabor, et aurae,
uos o numantana si qui de gente uenitis,
cernitis?

Many a nymph marvels at her in the waves,
her father Ocean and fair Tethys marvel,
and Galatea, sweeping along her desirous sisters with her;
she too, who with fishes yoked together measures the mighty plain of the sea,
and in the glaucous chariot of two-footed horses,
Leucothea and the little god Palaemon with his mother—
they too, allotted to live on alternate lights,
dear offspring of Jove, the great increment of Jove,
the Tyndaridae marvel at the snow-white limbs of the maiden.
So these words and these laments through the airs
in the midst of the waves she kept rolling with vain complaint,
unhappy, stretching her burning lights toward heaven—
her lights, for bonds were holding back her tender palms:
“Hold back a little, O troubled blasts of winds,
while I lament and address the gods (although with those witnesses
I have accomplished nothing), yet dying I speak at my last hour.
You—yes, you—I will call to witness, winds, and you, breezes;
you, O if any come from the Numantine race,
do you behold?”

illa ego sum cognato sanguine uobis
Scylla (quod o salua liceat te dicere, Procne),
illa ego sum Nisi pollentis filia quondam,
certatim ex omni petiit quam Graecia regno
qua curuus terras amplectitur Hellespontus;
illa ego sum, Minos, sacrato foedere coniunx
dicta tibi: tamen haec, etsi non accipis, audis.
uinctane tam magni tranabo gurgitis undas?
uincta tot assiduas pendebo ex ordine luces?

I am she, of kindred blood to you,
Scylla (O may it be permitted to say that you are safe, Procne),
I am she once the daughter of puissant Nisus,
whom in rivalry all Greece from every kingdom sought,
where the curved Hellespont embraces the lands;
I am she, Minos, called your spouse by a consecrated covenant:
yet these things, though you do not accept them, you hear.
Shall I, bound, swim the waves of so great a whirlpool?
Bound, shall I hang through so many successive days?

non equidem me alio possum contendere dignam
supplicio, quae sic patriam carosque penates
hostibus immitique addixi ignara tyranno.
uerum istaec, Minos, illos scelerata putaui,
si nostra ante aliqui nudasset foedera casus,
facturos, quorum direptis moenibus urbis
o ego crudelis flamma delubra petiui.
te uero uictore prius uel sidera cursus
mutatura suos quam te mihi talia captae
facturum metui.

Indeed I cannot contend that I am deserving of any other punishment,
I who thus consigned my fatherland and dear Penates
to enemies and, ignorant, to a merciless tyrant.
But these things, Minos, I judged those men criminal,
who, if some mischance had first stripped bare our treaties,
would do them; and for them, when the walls of the city were torn apart,
O cruel I, I made for the shrines with flame.
But with you the victor, I feared sooner that even the stars
would change their courses than that you would do such things to me,
a captive.

iam iam scelus omnia uicit.
tene ego plus patrio dilexi perdita regno?
tene ego?

Now, now crime has conquered all things.
Is it you whom I, ruined, loved more than my paternal kingdom?
You—was it you?

nec mirum: uultu decepta puella
ut uidi, ut perii, ut me malus abstulit error.
non equidem ex isto speraui corpore posse
tale malum nasci forma uel sidera fallar.
me non deliciis commouit regia diues,
curalio fragili aut electro lacrimoso,
me non florentes aequali corpore nymphae,
non metus impendens potuit retinere deorum:
omnia uicit amor: quid enim non uinceret ille?

nor a marvel: a girl deceived by his countenance—
how I saw, how I perished, how an evil error carried me off.
I did not indeed hope that from that body such an evil could
be born—unless I be deceived by the form or by the stars.
no rich royal palace moved me with its delights,
nor fragile coral or tearful amber,
nor nymphs blooming with a well-proportioned body moved me,
nor could the impending fear of the gods hold me back:
love conquered all: for what would he not conquer?

non mihi iam pingui sudabunt tempora myrrha,
pronuba nec castos accendet pinus odores,
non Libys Assyrio sternetur lectulus ostro;
parua queror: ne me illa quidem communis alumna
omnibus iniecta tellus tumulabit harena.
mene inter matres ancillarique maritas,
mene alias inter famularum munere fungi,
coniugis atque tuae, quaecumque erit illa, beatae
non licuit grauidos penso deuoluere fusos?
at belli saltem captiuam lege necasses.

no longer will my temples sweat with rich myrrh,
nor will the pronuba pine kindle chaste odors,
nor will my Libyan little bed be spread with Assyrian purple;
I complain of small things: not even that common foster-mother,
the earth, cast with sand over all, will entomb me.
am I, among mothers and serving-wives,
am I, among others, to perform the office of maidservants,
and, for your spouse—whoever she will be—the blessed one,
was it not permitted to let the heavy spindles run down by the weight?
but at least, by the law of war, you should have slain the captive.

iam tandem casus hominum, iam respice, Minos.
sit satis hoc, tantum Scyllam uidisse malorum.
uel fato fuerit nobis haec debita pestis,
uel casu incerto, merita uel denique culpa:
omnia nam potius quam te fecisse putabo.'
labitur interea resoluta ab litore classis,
magna repentino sinuantur lintea coro,
flectitur in uiridi remus sale, languida fessae
uirginis in cursu moritur querimonia longo.

now at last the fortunes of humans—now regard us, Minos.
let this be enough, that Scylla has seen so many evils.
whether by fate this plague was owed to me,
or by uncertain chance, or finally by merited fault:
for I will suppose anything rather than that you have done it.'
meanwhile the fleet, loosed from the shore, glides,
the great linen-sails are billowed by a sudden Corus,
the oar is bent in the green brine; the languid complaint
of the weary maiden dies in the long course.

deserit angustis inclusum faucibus Isthmon
Cypselidae et magni florentia regna, Corinthum;
praeterit abruptas Scironis protinus arces
infestumque suis dirae testudinis exit
spelaeum multoque cruentas hospite cautes.
iamque adeo tutum longe Piraeea cernit
et notas, eheu frustra, respectat Athenas;
iam procul e fluctu Salaminia respicit arua
florentisque uidet iam Cycladas: hinc sinus illi
Sunius, hinc statio contra patet Hermionaea.
linquitur ante alias longe gratissima Delos
Nereidum matri et Neptuno Aegaeo;
prospicit incinctam spumanti litore Cythnum
marmoreamque Paron uiridemque adlapsa Donysam
aeginamque simul salutiferamque Seriphum.

he leaves the Isthmus enclosed in narrow jaws
and Corinth, the flourishing realms of the Cypselidae, great Corinth;
he passes straight by the sheer citadels of Sciron
and departs from the cave of the dread tortoise, perilous to its own,
and the crags bloodstained by many a guest.
and now indeed he sees from afar the Piraeus safe
and looks back at well-known, alas in vain, Athens;
now from the wave he looks back at the Salaminian fields afar
and already sees the flourishing Cyclades: on this side for him lies open
the bay at Sunium, on that side over against it the Hermionian anchorage.
far before others Delos is left behind, most pleasing
to the mother of the Nereids and to Aegaean Neptune;
he looks out upon Cythnus girdled with a foaming shore
and marble Paros, and, having glided near, green Donysa,
and Aegina as well, and health-bringing Seriphos.

iam fessae tandem fugiunt de corpore uires
et caput inflexa lentum ceruice recumbit,
marmorea adductis liuescunt bracchia nodis.
aequoreae pristes, immania corpora ponti,
undique conueniunt et glauco in gurgite circum
uerbere caudarum atque oris minitantur hiatu.
fertur et incertis iactatur ad omnia uentis,
cumba uelut magnas sequitur cum paruula classis
Afer et hiberno bacchatur in aequore turbo,
donec tale decus formae uexarier undis
non tulit ac miseros mutauit uirginis artus
caeruleo pollens coniunx Neptunia regno.

now at last the forces flee from her weary body
and her head sinks, with neck bent and pliant,
her marble arms grow livid, the sinews knotted tight.
sea-monsters (pristes), the immense bodies of the deep,
gather from all sides, and in the glaucous whirlpool around
they threaten with the lash of their tails and the gaping of their jaws.
she is borne along and is tossed every which way by uncertain winds,
just as when a tiny skiff follows great fleets,
and the African and a winter whirlwind revel on the sea,
until the powerful consort of the Neptunian realm, mighty in the cerulean kingdom,
did not endure that such a glory of beauty be harried by the waves,
and transformed the wretched limbs of the maiden.

sed tamen aeternam squamis uestire puellam
infidosque inter teneram committere pisces
non statuit (nimium est auidum pecus Amphitrites):
aeriis potius sublimem sustulit alis,
esset ut in terris facti de nomine ciris,
ciris Amyclaeo formosior ansere Ledae.
hic uelut in niueo tenera est cum primitus ouo
effigies animantis et internodia membris
imperfecta nouo fluitant concreta calore,
sic liquido Scyllae circumfusum aequore corpus
semiferi incertis etiam nunc partibus artus
undique mutabant atque undique mutabantur.
oris honos primum et multis optata labella
et patulae frontis species concrescere in unum
coepere et gracili mentum producere rostro;
tum, qua se medium capitis discrimen agebat,
ecce repente uelut patrios imitatus honores
puniceam concussit apex in uertice cristam;
at mollis uarios intexens pluma colores
marmoreum uolucri uestiuit tegmine corpus
lentaque perpetuas fuderunt bracchia pennas;
inde alias partes minioque infecta rubenti
crura noua macies obduxit squalida pelli
et pedibus teneris unguis affixit acutos.

but yet to clothe the girl with eternal scales
and to commit the tender one among unfaithful fishes
he did not resolve (too greedy a herd is Amphitrite’s):
rather he lifted her aloft on airy wings,
so that on land she might be a ciris from the name of the deed,
a ciris more beautiful than Leda’s Amyclaean goose.
here, just as when in a snowy egg the tender effigy of a living being first is,
and the internodes in the limbs, imperfect, float,
concreted by new heat,
so the body of Scylla, surrounded by the limpid sea,
the limbs of the half-beast, in parts still uncertain,
on every side were changing and on every side were being changed.
the honor of the face first, and the little lips desired by many,
and the aspect of a broad brow began to grow together into one
and the chin to extend into a slender beak;
then, where the parting ran through the middle of the head,
lo, suddenly, as if imitating paternal honors,
a point shook a crimson crest upon the crown;
but a soft plume, interweaving various colors,
clothed the marble-white body with a winged covering,
and the pliant arms poured forth perpetual feathers;
then a scaly leanness covered other parts, and legs tinged with ruddy minium,
down to the skin, and to the tender feet he affixed sharp claws.

et tamen hoc demum miserae succurrere pacto
uix fuerat placida Neptuni coniuge dignum.
numquam illam post haec oculi uidere suorum
purpureas flauo retinentem uertice uittas,
non thalamus Syrio fragrans accepit amomo,
nullae illam sedes: quid enim cum sedibus illi?
quae simul ut sese cano de gurgite uelox
cum sonitu ad caelum stridentibus extulit alis
et multum late dispersit in aequora rorem,
infelix uirgo nequiquam a morte recepta
incultum solis in rupibus exigit aeuum,
rupibus et scopulis et litoribus desertis.

and yet to succor the wretched girl by this device at last
had scarcely been worthy of Neptune’s gentle consort.
never after this did the eyes of her own behold her
holding purple fillets on her blond crown,
nor did a bridal chamber fragrant with Syrian amomum receive her,
no abodes for her: for what has she to do with abodes?
who, as soon as she swift from the hoary whirlpool
with a roar lifted herself to heaven on strident wings
and far and wide scattered spray upon the seas,
the unhappy maiden, rescued from death to no purpose,
passes an uncultivated age on solitary cliffs,
on rocks and crags and deserted shores.

nec tamen hoc ipsum poena sine: namque deum rex,
omnia qui imperio terrarum milia uersat,
commotus talem ad superos uolitare puellam,
cum pater extinctus caeca sub nocte lateret,
illi pro pietate sua (nam saepe rubentis
sanguine taurorum supplex resperserat aras,
saepe deum largo decorarat munere sedes)
reddidit optatam mutato corpore uitam
fecitque in terris haliaeetos ales ut esset:
quippe aquilis semper gaudet deus ille coruscis.
huic uero miserae, quoniam damnata deorum
iudicio natique et coniugis ante fuisset,
infesti apposuit odium crudele parentis.
namque ut in aetherio signorum limite praestans,
unum quem duplici stellarunt sidere diui,
Scorpios alternis clarum fugat Oriona,
sic inter sese tristis haliaeetos iras
et ciris memori seruant ad saecula fato.

nor yet was this thing itself without penalty: for the king of the gods,
who with his command turns all the thousands of the lands,
moved at such a maiden flitting toward the gods above,
while her father, extinguished, lay hidden beneath blind night,
to him for his piety (for often, suppliant, he had spattered the ruddy
altars with the blood of bulls, often had he adorned the seats of the gods with a lavish gift)
restored the desired life with the body changed
and made that he should be on earth a haliaeetus bird:
for that god ever rejoices in flashing eagles.
to her indeed, miserable, since she had been condemned by the judgment of the gods
and by son and by husband before, he set upon her the cruel hatred of a hostile parent.
for as, outstanding on the aetherial boundary of the constellations,
the one whom the gods have starred with a double constellation,
Scorpius by turns puts bright Orion to flight,
so between themselves the grim haliaeetus their wraths
and the ciris keep, to the ages, by mindful Fate.

quacumque illa leuem fugiens secat aethera pennis,
ecce inimicus atrox magno stridore per auras
insequitur Nisus; qua se fert Nisus ad auras,
illa leuem fugiens raptim secat aethera pennis.

wherever she, fleeing, cleaves the light ether with wings,
behold, the fierce enemy, Nisus, with great stridor, through the airs,
pursues; where Nisus bears himself into the airs,
she, fleeing, swiftly cleaves the light ether with wings.

PRIAPEA

Vere rosa, autumno pomis, aestate frequentor
spicis: una mihi est horrida pestis hiemps;
nam frigus metuo et uereor ne ligneus ignem
hic deus ignauis praebeat agricolis.
Ego haec, ego arte fabricata rustica,
ego arida, o uiator, ecce populus,
agellulum hunc, sinistra et ante quem uides,
erique uillulam hortulumque pauperis
tuor, malaque furis arceo manu.
mihi corolla picta uere ponitur,
mihi rubens arista sole feruido,
mihi uirente dulcis uua pampino,
mihi gelante oliua cocta frigore.

In spring by the rose, in autumn by pomes, in summer I am frequented by ears of grain: there is for me one horrid pest—winter;
for I fear the cold and I dread lest, being wooden, this god should furnish fire to lazy farmers.
I—these things—I, fashioned by rustic art, I, dry, O traveler, behold, of poplar,
I guard this very small field, which you see to the left and in front,
and the master’s little villa and the poor man’s little garden,
and I ward off the thief’s wicked hand.
for me a painted garland is set in spring,
for me the reddening ear under the burning sun,
for me the sweet grape with its greening vine-leaf,
for me the olive, cooked by freezing cold.

meis capella delicata pascuis
in urbem adulta lacte portat ubera,
meisque pinguis agnus ex ouilibus
grauem domum remittit aere dexteram
teneraque matre mugiente uaccula
deum profundit ante templa sanguinem.
proin, uiator, hunc deum uereberis
manumque sursum habebis. hoc tibi expedit,
parata namque trux stat ecce mentula.

my delicate she-goat, on my pastures,
bears into the city udders swollen with milk,
and from my sheepfolds my fat lamb
remits the right hand home heavy with bronze;
and a little heifer, with her tender mother lowing,
pours out the blood of the gods before the temples.
therefore, traveler, you will revere this god
and you will hold your hand up. This is expedient for you,
for behold a grim phallus stands ready.

'uelim pol' inquis? at pol ecce uilicus
uenit, ualente cui reuulsa bracchio
fit ista mentula apta claua dexterae.
Hunc ego, o iuuenes, locum uillulamque palustrem
tectam uimine iunceo caricisque maniplis,
quercus arida rustica fomitata securi
nutrior: magis et magis fit beata quotannis.

"'Would you like, by Pollux,' you say? But, by Pollux, look, the bailiff
comes, for whom, with a strong arm, if torn off, this mentula
would become a club apt for his right hand.
For this place, O youths, and the marshy little villa,
roofed with rush-wicker and bundles of sedge,
I am maintained, fueled with rustic dry oak, chopped by the axe;
and it becomes more and more blessed each year.

huius nam domini colunt me, deumque salutant
pauperis tuguri pater filiusque adulescens,
alter assidua cauens diligentia, ut herbae,
aspera ut rubus a meo sit remota sacello,
alter parua manu ferens semper munera larga.
florido mihi ponitur picta uere corolla,
primitus tenera uirens spica mollis arista,
luteae uiolae mihi lacteumque papauer
pallentesque cucurbitae et suaue olentia mala,
uua pampinea rubens educata sub umbra;
sanguine haec etiam mihi (sed tacebitis) arma
barbatus linit hirculus cornipesque capella.
pro quis omnia honoribus nunc necesse Priapo est
praestare, et domini hortulum uineamque tueri.

for the master of this place do worship me and greet me as a god—
the father of the poor hut and his adolescent son—
the one, with assiduous diligence, taking care that grasses,
rough as bramble, be kept away from my little shrine;
the other always bringing with a small hand abundant gifts.
for me in flowery spring a painted garland is set down,
first the tender green spike, the soft ear of grain,
yellow violets for me and the milky poppy,
pale gourds and sweet-smelling apples,
a grape reddening with vine-leafage, reared under shade;
even with blood (but you will keep silent) the bearded little he-goat
and the horn-footed she-goat smear these “arms.”
pro quibus honors, now it is necessary for Priapus to render all services
and to guard the master’s little garden and vineyard.

quare hinc, o pueri, malas abstinete rapinas:
uicinus prope diues est neglegensque Priapi.
inde sumite: semita haec deinde uos feret ipsa.

therefore from here, o boys, abstain from evil rapine:
the neighbor close by is rich and negligent of Priapus.
from there take; this path then will itself carry you.

CATALEPTON

TRIFLES

De qua saepe tibi, uenit: sed, Tucca, uidere
non licet: occulitur limine clausa uiri.
de qua saepe tibi, non uenit adhuc mihi: namque
si occulitur; longe est, tangere quod nequeas.
uenerit: audiui.

Of whom I have often spoken to you, she has come: but, Tucca, to see
is not permitted: she is hidden, shut within the man’s threshold.
of whom I have often spoken to you, she has not yet come to me: for
if she is concealed; she is far off, what you cannot touch.
she has come: I have heard.

sed iam mihi nuntius iste
quid prodest? illi dicite cui rediit.

but now to me, what profit is that news?
tell it to him to whom she has returned.

Corinthiorum amator iste uerborum,
iste, iste rhetor, namque quatenus totus
Thucydides, tyrannus Atticae febris,
tau Gallicum, min et sphin ut male illisit,
ita omnia ista uerba miscuit fratri.III

That lover of Corinthian words,
that one, that very rhetorician, for inasmuch as he is entirely
Thucydides, the tyrant of Attic fever,
how badly he has thrust in the Gallic tau, and ‘min’ and ‘sphin,’
so he has mixed in all those words for his brother.3

Aspice quem ualido subnixum Gloria regno
     altius et caeli sedibus extulerat:
terrarum hic bello magnum concusserat orbem,
     hic reges Asiae fregerat, hic populos;
hic graue seruitium tibi, iam tibi, Roma, ferebat
     (cetera namque uiri cuspide conciderant),
cum subito in medio rerum certamine praeceps
     corruit e patria pulsus in exilium.
tale Deae numen: tali mortalia nutu
     fallax momento temporis hora dedit.

Behold him whom Glory, propped upon a mighty kingdom,
     had raised higher, even to the seats of heaven:
this man had shaken the great orb of lands by war,
     here he had broken the kings of Asia, here the peoples;
here a grave servitude upon you—yes, upon you, Rome—he was bearing
     (for the rest had fallen by the man’s spear),
when suddenly, in the midst of the contest of affairs, headlong
     he fell, driven from his fatherland into exile.
Such is the Goddess’s will: with such a nod
     the treacherous hour gave mortal things in a moment of time.

Quocumque ire ferunt uariae nos tempora uitae,
     tangere quas terras, quosque uidere homines,
dispeream, si te fuerit mihi carior alter
     (alter enim qui te dulcior esse potest?),
cui iuueni ante alios diui diuumque sorores
     cuncta, neque indigno, Musa, dedere bona,
cuncta quibus gaudet Phoebi chorus ipseque Phoebus;
     doctior o quis te, Musa, fuisse potest?
o quis te in terris loquitur iucundior uno?
     (Clio nam certe candida non loquitur.)
quare illud satis est, si te permittis amari:
     nam contra ut sit amor mutuus, unde mihi?

Wherever the various times of life bear us to go,
     to touch what lands, and what men to see,
may I perish, if there shall have been to me another dearer than you
     (for who other can be sweeter than you?),
to whom, a youth, before others, the gods and the sisters of the gods
     have given, Muse, all goods—and not to one unworthy—,
all the things with which the chorus of Phoebus and Phoebus himself rejoice;
     O who can have been more learned than you, Muse?
O who on earth speaks more pleasant than you alone?
     (for fair Clio surely does not so speak.)
wherefore that is enough, if you allow yourself to be loved:
     for how, in return, should there be mutual love for me?

Ite hinc, inanes, ite, rhetorum ampullae,
inflata rhoezo non Achaico uerba;
et uos, Selique Tarquitique Varroque,
scholasticorum natio madens pingui,
ite hinc, inane cymbalon iuuentutis;
tuque, o mearum cura, Sexte, curarum,
uale, Sabine; iam ualete, formosi.
nos ad beatos uela mittimus portus
magni petentes docta dicta Sironis,
uitamque ab omni uindicabimus cura.
ite hinc, Camenae, uos quoque ite iam sane,
dulces Camenae (nam fatebimur uerum,
dulces fuistis), et tamen meas chartas
reuisitote, sed pudenter et raro.

Go hence, empty ones, go, ampullae of rhetors,
words inflated with “rheum” not Achaean;
and you too, Selius and Tarquitius and Varro,
a nation of scholastics dripping with grease,
go hence, empty cymbal of the youth;
and you, O care of my cares, Sextus,
farewell, Sabinus; now farewell, you handsome ones.
We send our sails to the blessed harbors,
seeking the learned sayings of great Siro,
and we will vindicate life from every care.
Go hence, Camenae, you too go now indeed,
sweet Camenae (for we shall confess the truth,
you have been sweet), and yet my pages
do you revisit, but modestly and rarely.

Socer, beate nec tibi nec alteri,
generque Noctuine, putidum caput,
tuoque nunc puella talis et tuo
stupore pressa rus abibit? ei mihi,
ut ille uersus usquequaque pertinet:
'gener socerque, perdidistis omnia'.

Father-in-law, “blessed,” a blessing neither to you nor to another,
and you, son-in-law Noctuinus, putrid head,
and now will such a girl—yours—and, pressed by your stupor,
go off to the country? Alas for me,
how that verse applies everywhere:
“son-in-law and father-in-law, you have ruined everything.”

VII

Si licet, hoc sine fraude, Vari dulcissime, dicam
'dispeream, nisi me perdidit iste Pothus';
sin autem praecepta uetant me dicere, sane
non dicam, sed: 'me perdidit iste puer'.

If it is permitted, without fraud, sweetest Varius, I will say this:
'May I perish, unless that Pothus has ruined me';
but if the precepts forbid me to say it, certainly
I will not say it, but: 'that boy has ruined me'.

VIII

Villula, quae Sironis eras, et pauper agelle;
     uerum illi domino tu quoque diuitiae;
me tibi, et hos una mecum, quos semper amaui,
     si quid de patria tristius audiero,
commendo, in primisque patrem. tu nunc eris illi
     Mantua quod fuerat quodque Cremona prius.

Little villula, which were Siro’s, and poor little agellus;
     yet to that dominus you too were riches;
I commend me to you, and these together with me, whom I have always loved,
     if I shall have heard anything sadder about the fatherland,
I commend them, and in the first place my father. You now will be to him
     what Mantua had been, and what Cremona before.

Pauca mihi, niueo sed non incognita Phoebo,
     pauca mihi, doctae, dicite, Pegasides.
uictor adest, magni magnum decus ecce triumphi,
     uictor qua terrae, quaque patent maria,
horrida barbaricae portans insignia pugnae,
     magnus ut Oenides, utque superbus Eryx,
nec minus idcirco uestros expromere cantus
     maximus, et sanctos dignus inire choros.
hoc itaque insuetis iactor magis, optime, curis,
     quid de te possim scribere, quidue tibi;
namque (fatebor enim) quae maxima deterrendi
     debuit, hortandi maxima causa fuit.

A few things for me, but not unknown to snow-white Phoebus,
     a few for me, learned, say, Pegasids.
the victor is present, behold the great glory of a great triumph,
     a victor wherever the lands, and wherever the seas lie open,
bearing the bristling insignia of barbarian battle,
     great as Oenides, and as proud Eryx,
and no less therefore most mighty to bring forth your songs,
     and worthy to enter the sacred choruses.
therefore by these unwonted cares I am tossed the more, best one,
     what I can write about you, or what for you;
for (I will confess indeed) that which ought to have been the greatest cause of deterring
     has been the greatest cause of encouraging.

pauca tua in nostras uenerunt carmina chartas,
     carmina cum lingua tum sale Cecropia,
carmina quae Phrygium, saeclis accepta futuris,
     carmina quae Pylium uincere digna senem.
molliter hic uiridi patulae sub tegmine quercus
     Moeris pastores et Meliboeus erant,
dulcia iactantes alterno carmina uersu
     qualia Trinacriae doctus amat iuuenis.
certatim ornabant omnes heroida diuae,
     certatim diuae munere quoque suo.

a few of your songs have come onto our pages,
     songs with the Cecropian tongue and with salt,
songs which, accepted by ages to come, the Phrygian [elder] outdo,
     songs which are worthy to conquer the Pylian old man.
softly here, beneath the green cover of a wide-spreading oak,
     Moeris and Meliboeus were shepherds,
tossing sweet songs in alternate verse,
     such as the learned youth of Trinacria loves.
in rivalry all the goddesses adorned the heroine,
     in rivalry the goddesses too with their own gift.

felicem ante alias o te scriptore puellam:
     altera non fama dixerit esse prior;
non illa, Hesperidum ni munere capta fuisset,
     quae uolucrem cursu uicerat Hippomenen;
candida cycneo non edita Tyndaris ouo;
     non supero fulgens Cassiopea polo;
non defensa diu multum certamine equorum,
     optabant grauide quam sibi quaeque manus,
saepe animam generi pro qua pater inpius hausit,
     saepe rubro pro qua sanguine fluxit humus;
regia non Semele, non Inachis Acrisione,
     inmitti expertae fulmine et imbre Iouem;
non cuius ob raptum pulsi liquere penates
     Tarquinii patrios filius atque pater,
illo quo primum dominatus Roma superbos
     mutauit placidis tempore consulibus.
multa, neque inmeritis, donauit praemia alumnis,
     praemia Messallis maxima Publicolis:
nam quid ego inmensi memorem studia ista laboris,
     horrida quid durae tempora militiae?
castra foro solitos, urbi praeponere castra,
     tam procul hoc gnato, tam procul hac patria?

fortunate before others, O girl, with you as writer:
     Fame would not say that another was prior;
not she who, had she not been captured by the gift of the Hesperides,
     had outstripped wing-swift Hippomenes in the race;
not the fair Tyndarid born from the swan’s egg;
     not Cassiopeia shining in the upper pole;
not she long defended by the great contest of horses,
     whom each and every hand, heavy with gifts, desired for itself,
for whom an impious father often drained life from suitors,
     for whom the ground often flowed with ruddy blood;
not royal Semele, not the Inachian Acrisionian maid,
     who experienced Jove let in by thunderbolt and by shower;
not she at whose rape, driven out, the Tarquins, both son and father,
     left their ancestral Penates,
when for the first time Rome changed the proud rulers
     for calm consuls. many prizes, and not to the undeserving, she has given to her nurslings,
     to the Messallae, the Publicolae the greatest rewards:
for why should I recall these pursuits of immense labor,
     why the horrid times of hardy soldiery?
men accustomed to put the camp before the forum, to prefer the camp to the city,
     so far from this son, so far from this fatherland?

inmoderata pati iam frigora iamque calores?
sternere uel dura posse super silice?
saepe trucem aduerso perlabi sidere pontum?

to endure immoderate now frosts and now heats?
to be able to lie even upon hard flint?
to often glide across the grim sea under an adverse star?

saepe mare audendo uincere, saepe hiemem?
saepe etiam densos inmittere corpus in hostes?
communem belli non meminisse deum?

often to conquer the sea by daring, often the winter?
often too to launch the body into dense enemies?
not to remember the common god of war?

nunc celeris Afros, periurae milia gentis,
     aurea nunc rapidi flumina adire Tagi?
nunc aliam ex alia bellando quaerere gentem,
     uincere et Oceani finibus ulterius?
non nostrum est tantas, non, inquam, attingere laudes;
     quin ausim hoc etiam dicere: uix hominum est.

now the swift Africans, the thousands of a perjured nation,
     now to approach the golden rivers of the rapid Tagus?
now to seek one nation after another by warring,
     and to conquer even further beyond the bounds of Ocean?
it is not ours to attain such great praises—no, I say, not to touch them;
     nay, I would even dare to say this: it is scarcely human.

ipsa haec, ipsa ferent rerum monumenta per orbem,
     ipsa sibi egregium facta decus parient;
nos ea quae tecum finxerunt carmina diui,
     Cynthius et Musae, Bacchus et Aglaie.
si laudi aspirare humili, si adire Cyrenas,
     si patrio Graios carmine adire sales
possumus, optatis plus iam procedimus ipsis:
     hoc satis est: pingui nil mihi cum populo.

these very things themselves, these very monuments of deeds will bear it through the world,
     they themselves by their deeds will beget for themselves distinguished honor;
as for us, the songs which with you the gods have fashioned,
     Cynthius and the Muses, Bacchus and Aglaia.
if we can aspire to humble praise, if to approach the Cyrenaean Muses,
     if with our native song to approach Greek wit
we can, we already advance beyond our very wishes themselves:
     this is enough: I have nothing to do with the fat populace.

Sabinus ille, quem uidetis, hospites,
ait fuisse mulio celerrimus,
neque ullius uolantis inpetum cisi
nequisse praeterire, siue Mantuam
opus foret uolare, siue Brixiam.
et hoc negat Tryphonis aemuli domum
negare nobilem insulamue Ceryli,
ubi iste, post Sabinus, ante Quinctio,
bidente dicit attodisse forcipe
comata colla, ne Cytorio iugo
premente dura uulnus ederet iuba.
Cremona frigida, et lutosa Gallia,
tibi haec fuisse et esse cognitissima,
ait Sabinus; ultima ex origine
tua stetisse dicit in uoragine,
tua in palude deposisse sarcinas,
et inde tot per orbitosa milia
iugum tulisse, laeua siue dextera
strigare mula siue utrumque ceperat.

That Sabinus there, whom you see, guests,
says he was the swiftest muleteer,
and that the impetus of no flying cisium
was able to pass him by, whether there was need to fly to Mantua
or to Brixia.
and this, he says, neither the house of Tryphon his rival
nor the noble Insula of Cerylus denies,
where that fellow—later with Sabinus, earlier with Quinctius—
says he used to nip with a two‑toothed forceps
the hairy necks, lest the mane,
when the Cytorian yoke pressed, should make a harsh wound.
Cold Cremona, and muddy Gaul,
these things to you to have been and to be most well‑known,
so says Sabinus; from the farthest source
he says he stood in your whirlpool,
laid down his packs in your marsh,
and from there through so many rutted miles
he bore the yoke, whether the left or the right
mule was stricken, or it had taken both.

neque ulla uota semitalibus deis
sibi esse facta praeter hoc nouissimum:
paterna lora proximumque pectinem.
sed haec prius fuere: nunc eburnea
sedetque sede seque dedicat tibi,
gemelle Castor, et gemelle Castoris.

nor that any vows to the wayside gods
had been made by him, except this most recent:
the paternal reins and, next, the curry-comb.
but these were before: now on an ivory
seat he sits and dedicates himself to you,
twin Castor, and twin of Castor.

Quis deus, Octaui, te nobis abstulit? an quae
     dicunt, a, nimio pocula dura mero?
'uobiscum, si est culpa, bibi: sua quemque secuntur
     fata: quid inmeriti crimen habent cyathi?'
scripta quidem tua nos multum mirabimur: et te
     raptum et Romanam flebimus historiam.

Which god, Octavius, has taken you from us? or—as
     they say—ah—are the cups harsh from too much unmixed wine?
'I drank with you, if there is fault: each person is followed by his
     own fates: what blame do the undeserving little cups bear?'
your writings indeed we shall greatly admire; and we shall weep for
     you snatched away and for Roman history.

sed tu nullus eris. peruersi, dicite, Manes,
hunc superesse patri quae fuit inuidia?

but you will be nothing. Perverse Manes, say, what envy was there that this man should survive his father?

XII

Superbe Noctuine, putidum caput,
datur tibi puella quam petis, datur;
datur, superbe Noctuine, quam petis.
sed, o superbe Noctuine, non uides
duas habere filias Atilium?
duas, et hanc et alteram, tibi dari?

Superb Noctuine, putrid head,
the girl whom you seek is given to you, is given;
is given, superb Noctuine, the one you seek.
but, O superb Noctuine, do you not see
that Atilius has two daughters?
two, both this one and the other, being given to you?

adeste nunc, adeste: ducit, ut decet,
superbus ecce Noctuinus hirneam.
Thalassio, Thalassio, Thalassio.

be present now, be present: he leads, as is fitting,
behold proud Noctuinus an earthenware chamber-pot.
Thalassio, Thalassio, Thalassio.

XIII

Iacere me, quod alta non possim, putas,
     ut ante, uectari freta,
nec ferre durum frigus aut aestum pati,
     neque arma uictoris sequi?
ualent, ualent mihi ira et antiquus furor
     et lingua qua assim tibi,
seu prostitutae turpe contubernium
     sororis (o quid me incitas,
quid, inpudice et inprobande Caesari?),
     seu furta dicantur tua,
et helluato sera patrimonio
     in fratre parsimonia,
uel acta puero cum uiris conuiuia,
     udaeque per somnum nates,
et inscio repente clamatum insuper
     'Thalassio, Thalassio'.
quid palluisti, femina? an ioci dolent?

You think me to lie low, because I cannot,
     as before, be carried across the deep straits,
and not bear the hard cold or suffer the heat,
     nor follow the arms of the victor?
they have power, they have power for me—ire and ancient fury
     and a tongue with which I am a match for you,
whether the shameful cohabitation
     with your prostituted sister (o why do you incite me,
why, shameless one and to be disapproved by Caesar?),
     or your thefts be spoken of,
and, the patrimony gluttonously squandered,
     belated parsimony toward your brother,
or banquets held as a boy with men,
     and buttocks wet in sleep,
and, you not knowing, suddenly shouted over you besides
     'Thalassio, Thalassio'.
why have you paled, woman? or do the jests hurt?

     an facta cognoscis tua?
non me uocabis, pulchra, per Cotytia
     ad feriatos fascinos;
nec deinde te mouere lumbos in ratulam
     prensis uidebo altaribus,
flauumque propter Thybrim olentis nauticum
     uocare, ubi adpulsae rates
caeno retentae sordido stant in uadis
     macraque luctantes aqua;
neque in culinam et uncta compitalia
     dapesque duces sordidas,
quibus repletus et saliuosis aquis
     obesam ad uxorem redis,
et aestuantes docte soluis pantices,
     osiculisque lambis sauiis.
nunc laede, nunc lacesse, si quidquam uales.

     or do you recognize your deeds?
you will not call me, fair one, through the Cotytian rites
     to the festival phalluses;
nor then will I see you move your loins on a little cart
     with the altars grasped,
and beside the blond Tiber to hail a boatman of the reeking river,
     where the barges, driven in,
held back by filthy mud, stand in the shallows
     and, gaunt, struggle with the water;
nor will you lead me into the kitchen and the greasy crossroads-shrines
     and lead to filthy feasts,
with which, gorged and with slobbery waters,
     you return to your fat wife,
and skillfully you loosen the heaving paunches,
     and with little kisses you lick the little lips.
now injure, now provoke, if you are worth anything.

     en nomen adscribo tuum,
cinaede Lucci. iamne liquerunt opes,
     fameque genuini crepant?
uidebo habentem praeter ignauos nihil
     fratres et iratum Iouem
scissumque uentrem et hirneosi patrui
     pedes inedia turgidos.

     lo, I inscribe your name,
catamite Luccius. Have your means already left you,
     and do your molars rattle with hunger?
I shall see you having nothing except cowardly
     brothers and an angry Jove,
and a split belly, and the feet of your hernia-ridden uncle
     swollen with starvation.

XIV

Si mihi susceptum fuerit decurrere munus,
     o Paphon, o sedes quae colis Idalias,
Troius Aeneas Romana per oppida digno
     iam tandem ut tecum carmine uectus eat,
non ego ture modo aut picta tua templa tabella
     ornabo, et puris serta feram manibus:
corniger hos aries humilis et maxima taurus
     uictima sacratos sparget honore focos,
marmoreusque tibi aut mille coloribus ales
     in morem picta stabit Amor pharetra.
adsis o Cytherea: tuus te Caesar Olympo
     et Surrentini litoris ara uocat.

If the task to run through be undertaken by me,
     O Paphos, O seat that tendest the Idalian haunts,
that Trojan Aeneas through Roman towns, with a worthy
     song at last, may go borne along with you,
not with incense only or a painted tablet will I
     adorn your temples, and I will bear garlands with pure hands:
a horn-bearing ram, lowly, and a very great bull
     as a victim will sprinkle the consecrated hearths with honor,
and a marble Love for you, or winged in a thousand colors,
     painted with quiver in the accustomed manner, shall stand.
be present, O Cytherean: your Caesar in Olympus
     and the altar of the Surrentine shore calls you.

Vate Syracosio qui dulcior, Hesiodoque
maior, Homereo non minor ore fuit,
illius haec quoque sunt diuini elementa poetae,
et rudis in uario carmine Calliope.

Than the Syracusan vates who was sweeter, and greater than Hesiod,
he was not lesser than Homer in utterance;
these too are the elements of that divine poet,
and Calliope raw in varied song.

XVI

Callide mage sub hec celi est iniuria secli
antiquis, hospes, non minor ingeniis,
et quo Roma uiro doctis certaret Athenis;
ferrea sed nulli uincere fata datur.]

More cunningly under this heaven is the injustice of the age,
not inferior, guest, to the ancients in talents,
and the man by whom Rome would contend with learned Athens;
but to no one is it given to conquer iron fates.]

PRIAPEVM 'QVID HOC NOVI EST?'

PRIAPEUM 'WHAT NEW THING IS THIS?'

Quid hoc noui est? quid ira nuntiat deum?
silente nocte candidus mihi puer
tepente cum iaceret abditus sinu,
Venus fuit quieta, nec uiriliter
iners senile penis extulit caput.

What is this new thing? what does the anger of the gods announce?
with the night silent, a fair boy for me
when he was lying hidden in my warm bosom,
Venus was quiet, nor virilely
did the inert, senile penis lift its head.

placet, Priape, qui sub arboris coma
soles, sacrum reuincte pampino caput,
ruber sedere cum rubente fascino?
at, o Triphalle, saepe floribus nouis
tuas sine arte deligauimus comas,
abegimusque uoce saepe, cum tibi
senexue coruus impigerue graculus
sacrum feriret ore corneo caput.
uale, nefande destitutor inguinum,
uale, Priape: debeo tibi nihil.

does it please, Priapus, you who beneath the tree’s tresses
are wont, your sacred head re-bound with a vine-leaf,
to sit ruddy with a ruddy fascinum (phallus)?
but, o Triphallus, often with new flowers
we have tied your locks without art,
and we have often driven away with our voice, when for you
either an old crow or a tireless jackdaw
would strike the sacred head with a horny beak.
farewell, nefarious forsaker of loins,
farewell, Priapus: I owe you nothing.

iacebis inter arua pallidus situ,
canisque saeua susque ligneo tibi
lutosus affricabit oblitum latus.
at, o sceleste penis, o meum malum,
graui piaque lege noxiam lues.
licet querare: nec tibi tener puer
patebit ullus, inminente qui toro
iuuante uerset arte mobilem natem,
puella nec iocosa te leui manu
fouebit, adprimetue lucidum femur.

you will lie among the fields, pallid with mould,
and both a savage dog and a sow, muddy, will rub a besmeared flank upon your wooden self.
but, O accursed penis, O my bane,
you will expiate your guilt by a grave and pious law.
complain if you like: nor will any tender boy
be open to you, who, with the couch impending,
by helpful art would twist his nimble buttock,
nor will a playful girl with light hand
soothe you, or press a shining thigh against you.

bidens amica Romuli senis memor
paratur, inter atra cuius inguina
latet iacente pantice abditus specus
uagaque pelle tectus annuo gelu
araneosus obsidet forem situs.
tibi haec paratur, ut tuum ter aut quater
uoret profunda fossa lubricum caput.
licebit aeger, angue lentior, cubes,
tereris usque donec, a, miser, miser
triplexque quadruplexque compleas specum.

a two-toothed ewe, the friend of old Romulus, mindful,
is prepared, in the midst of whose black groins
a hidden cave lies, the paunch lying down,
and, covered with a loose hide by the yearly frost,
cobwebby neglect besieges the door.
this is prepared for you, so that a deep ditch
may swallow your lubricous head three or four times.
you may, sick, slower than a serpent, lie down,
you will be rubbed down until—ah, wretch, wretch—
and you fill the cave threefold and fourfold.

superbia ista proderit nihil, simul
uagum sonante merseris luto caput.
quid est, iners? pigetne lentitudinis?

that pride will profit nothing, as soon as
your wandering head has been submerged in the resounding mud.
What is it, inert one? Does lentitude irk you?

licebit hoc inultus auferas semel:
sed ille cum redibit aureus puer,
simul sonante senseris iter pede,
rigente neruos excubet lubidine,
et inquietus inguina arrigat tumor,
neque incitare cesset, usque dum mihi
Venus iocosa molle ruperit latus.

you may carry this off unavenged once:
but when that golden boy returns,
as soon as you perceive the way with a sounding foot,
while stiffening libido keeps the nerves on watch,
and a restless swelling erects the groin,
and does not cease to incite, until for me
jocose Venus has broken my soft flank.

MORETVM

THE MORETUM

Iam nox hibernas bis quinque peregerat horas
excubitorque diem cantu praedixerat ales,
Simulus exigui cultor cum rusticus agri,
tristia uenturae metuens ieiunia lucis,
membra leuat uili sensim demissa grabato
sollicitaque manu tenebras explorat inertes
uestigatque focum, laesus quem denique sensit.
paruulus exusto remanebat stipite fomes
et cinis obductae celabat lumina prunae;
admouet his pronam summissa fronte lucernam
et producit acu stuppas umore carentis,
excitat et crebris languentem flatibus ignem.
tandem concepto, sed uix, fulgore recedit
oppositaque manu lumen defendit ab aura
et reserat clausae qua peruidet ostia clauis.

Now night had completed twice five winter hours
and the watch-bird had presaged the day with song,
Simulus, a rustic cultivator of a scanty field,
fearing the grim fastings of the coming light,
lifts his limbs, little by little, from a cheap pallet where they’d been let down,
and with solicitous hand explores the inert darkness
and tracks down the hearth, which at last, getting hurt, he sensed.
a tiny tinder remained from the burned-out log
and the ash of the overlaid coal was concealing its lights;
he brings his lamp, bent forward with lowered brow, up to these
and draws out with a needle the tow of a moisture-lacking wick,
and rouses with frequent breaths the languishing fire.
at last, the radiance having been caught—but scarcely—he draws back
and with an opposing hand defends the light from the breeze
and unbars with a key the closed doors where he can make them out.

fusus erat terra frumenti pauper aceruus:
hinc sibi depromit quantum mensura patebat,
quae bis in octonas excurrit pondere libras.
inde abit adsistitque molae paruaque tabella,
quam fixam paries illos seruabat in usus,
lumina fida locat; geminos tunc ueste lacertos
liberat et cinctus uillosae tergore caprae
peruerrit cauda silices gremiumque molarum.
aduocat inde manus operi, partitus utroque:
laeua ministerio, dextra est intenta labori.

a poor heap of grain had been spread on the ground:
from here he draws out for himself as much as the measure allowed,
which runs to 16 pounds in weight.
then he goes off and stands by the mill and the little board,
which the wall, keeping it fixed, reserved for those uses,
he sets trusty lights; then from his garment he frees his twin upper arms,
and, girt with the shaggy hide of a goat,
he sweeps through with the tail the flints and the bosom of the millstones.
then he summons his hands to the work, divided to each:
the left to ministration, the right intent on labor.

haec rotat adsiduum gyris et concitat orbem
(tunsa Ceres silicum rapido decurrit ab ictu),
interdum fessae succedit laeua sorori
alternatque uices. modo rustica carmina cantat
agrestique suum solatur uoce laborem,
interdum clamat Scybalen. erat unica custos,
Afra genus, tota patriam testante figura,
torta comam labroque tumens et fusca colore,
pectore lata, iacens mammis, compressior aluo,
cruribus exilis, spatiosa prodiga planta.

she rotates this incessantly with gyrations and speeds the wheel
(threshed Ceres runs down from the flints at the rapid blow),
at times the left hand takes over for her tired sister
and alternates the turns. Now she sings rustic songs
and with an agrestic voice she consoles her own labor,
at times she calls out Scybale. She was the only guardian,
African by race, with her whole figure attesting her fatherland,
hair twisted, swelling at the lip, and dusky in color,
broad in chest, lying in the breasts, more compressed at the belly,
slender in the legs, with a spacious, prodigal sole.

hanc uocat atque arsura focis imponere ligna
imperat et flamma gelidos adolere liquores.
postquam impleuit opus iustum uersatile finem,
transfert inde manu fusas in cribra farinas
et quatit; ac remanent summo purgamina dorso,
subsidit sincera foraminibusque liquatur
emundata Ceres. leui tum protinus illam
componit tabula, tepidas super ingerit undas,
contrahit admixtos nunc fontes atque farinas,
transuersat durata manu liquidoque coacta,
interdum grumos spargit sale.

she calls her and orders her to set on the hearth the wood that is to burn,
and to kindle with flame the cold liquids.
after she completed the due work to its revolving end,
then she transfers with her hand the ground flours into sieves
and shakes them; and the impurities remain on the top surface,
the pure part settles and Ceres, cleansed, is strained through the little holes.
then at once she sets it on a smooth board, pours tepid waters over it,
now draws together the mixed waters and flours,
plies it crosswise with a hardened hand, the mass having been brought to a smooth liquidity,
now and then she sprinkles the lumps with salt.

iamque subactum
leuat opus palmisque suum dilatat in orbem
et notat impressis aequo discrimine quadris.
infert inde foco (Scybale mundauerat aptum
ante locum) testisque tegit, super aggerat ignis.
dumque suas peragit Vulcanus Vestaque partes,
Simulus interea uacua non cessat in hora,
uerum aliam sibi quaerit opem, neu sola palato
sit non grata Ceres, quas iungat comparat escas.

and now the kneaded work he lifts, and with his palms he spreads his own into a circle
and marks it with impressed squares at an even division.
then he carries it to the hearth (Scybale had cleansed a fitting
place beforehand) and covers it with potsherds, and heaps fire above.
and while Vulcan and Vesta perform their parts,
meanwhile Simulus does not cease in the empty hour,
but rather seeks another help for himself, lest Ceres alone be not pleasing to the palate,
he prepares victuals to join with it.

non illi suspensa focum carnaria iuxta
durati sale terga suis truncique uacabant,
traiectus medium sparto sed caseus orbem
et uetus adstricti fascis pendebat anethi:
ergo aliam molitur opem sibi prouidus heros.
hortus erat iunctus casulae, quem uimina pauca
et calamo rediuiua leui munibat harundo,
exiguus spatio, uariis sed fertilis herbis.
nil illi deerat quod pauperis exigit usus;
interdum locuples a paupere plura petebat.

for him the meats did not stand lacking, hanging near the hearth on the rack:
sides of his swine hardened with salt and cut trunks; but there hung
a cheese pierced through the middle with esparto, and an old bundle
of tightly bound dill: therefore the provident hero contrives another aid for himself.
there was a garden joined to the little hut, which a few withies
and a light reed-cane, renewed from the stalk, were fortifying,
small in space, but fertile with various herbs.
nothing there was lacking which the use of a poor man requires;
sometimes a wealthy man would ask more things from a poor man.

nec sumptus erat ullius opus sed regula curae:
si quando uacuum casula pluuiaeue tenebant
festaue lux, si forte labor cessabat aratri,
horti opus illud erat. uarias disponere plantas
norat et occultae committere semina terrae
uicinosque apte circa summittere riuos.
hic holus, hic late fundentes bracchia betae
fecundusque rumex maluaeque inulaeque uirebant,
hic siser et nomen capiti debentia porra
grataque nobilium requies lactuca ciborum,
* * * crescitque in acumina radix,
et grauis in latum dimissa cucurbita uentrem.

nor was there need of any expense, but a rule of care:
if ever, when at leisure, the cottage or the rains kept him in,
or a festive day, if by chance the labor of the plough ceased,
that was a task for the garden. He knew how to arrange various plants
and to commit seeds to the hidden earth,
and to let down neighboring rills suitably around. Here greens, here beets
spreading their arms wide, and fecund sorrel and mallows and elecampanes were green,
here skirret and leeks that owe their name to the head,
and lettuce, the welcome respite of noble dishes,
* * * and the radish grows to sharp points,
and the heavy gourd, let down, swells its belly broad.

uerum hic non domini (quis enim contractior illo?)
sed populi prouentus erat, nonisque diebus
uenalis umero fasces portabat in urbem,
inde domum ceruice leuis, grauis aere redibat
uix umquam urbani comitatus merce macelli:
cepa rubens sectique famem domat area porri
quaeque trahunt acri uultus nasturtia morsu
intibaque et Venerem reuocans eruca morantem.
tum quoque tale aliquid meditans intrauerat hortum;
ac primum leuiter digitis tellure refossa
quattuor educit cum spissis alia fibris,
inde comas apii graciles rutamque rigentem
uellit et exiguo coriandra trementia filo.
haec ubi collegit, laetum consedit ad ignem
et clara famulam poscit mortaria uoce.

but here it was not the master’s (for who was more contractive, more tight-fisted, than he?) but the people’s yield, and on market-days he would carry venal bundles on his shoulder into the city,
thence he would return home light at the neck, heavy with bronze,
hardly ever with the urban company of the macellum’s merchandise:
the reddening onion and a cut strip of leek tame hunger,
and nasturtiums that pull the features with their sharp bite,
and endive, and rocket (arugula) calling back laggard Venus.
then too, meditating something of that sort, he had entered the garden;
and first, the soil lightly dug back with his fingers, he draws out four garlic plants with thick fibers,
then he plucks the slender tresses of celery and the stiff rue,
and the coriander trembling on a meager thread.
when he had gathered these, he sat down glad by the fire
and with a clear voice calls the maidservant for the mortars.

singula tum capitum nodoso corpore nudat
et summis spoliat coriis contemptaque passim
spargit humi atque abicit; seruatum gramine bulbum
tinguit aqua lapidisque cauum demittit in orbem.
his salis inspargit micas, sale durus adeso
caseus adicitur, dictas super ingerit herbas,
et laeua uestem saetosa sub inguina fulcit,
dextera pistillo primum fragrantia mollit
alia, tum pariter mixto terit omnia suco.
it manus in gyrum: paulatim singula uires
deperdunt proprias, color est e pluribus unus,
nec totus uiridis, quia lactea frusta repugnant,
nec de lacte nitens, quia tot uariatur ab herbis.

then he strips each head, laying bare its knotted body,
and strips off the outer skins, and, as things despised,
he scatters them everywhere on the ground and casts them aside; the bulb kept with its grass
he dips in water and lets it down into the stone’s hollow circle.
upon these he sprinkles grains of salt; cheese, hard, gnawed by salt,
is added; on top he heaps the said herbs,
and with his left he props his bristly garment beneath his groin,
with his right he with the pestle first softens the fragrant
garlics, then alike he grinds all with the mixed juice.
the hand goes in a circle: little by little the individual things
lose their proper powers; the color is one out of many,
nor wholly green, because milky fragments resist,
nor shining from milk, because by so many herbs it is variegated.

saepe uiri nares acer iaculatur apertas
spiritus et simo damnat sua prandia uultu,
saepe manu summa lacrimantia lumina terget
immeritoque furens dicit conuicia fumo.
procedebat opus; nec iam salebrosus, ut ante,
sed grauior lentos ibat pistillus in orbis.
ergo Palladii guttas instillat oliui
exiguique super uires infundit aceti
atque iterum commiscet opus mixtumque retractat.

Often the pungent vapor hurls itself at the man’s open nostrils,
and with a snub-nosed face he condemns his luncheon,
often with the back of his hand he wipes his tearful eyes,
and, raging without cause, he speaks revilings to the smoke.
The work was proceeding; and now no longer rugged, as before,
but more weighty the pestle went in slow circles.
Therefore he drips in drops of Palladian olive-oil
and, over and above, pours on the strength of a little vinegar,
and again he commixes the work and reworks the mixture.

tum demum digitis mortaria tota duobus
circuit inque globum distantia contrahit unum,
constet ut effecti species nomenque moreti.
eruit interea Scybale quoque sedula panem,
quem laetus recipit manibus, pulsoque timore
iam famis inque diem securus Simulus illam
ambit crura ocreis paribus tectusque galero
sub iuga parentis cogit lorata iuuencos
atque agit in segetes et terrae condit aratrum.

then at last with two fingers he circles the whole mortar
and draws together the things standing apart into a single globe,
so that the appearance and the name of the made moretum may be established.
meanwhile sedulous Scybale also brings out the bread,
which he gladly receives in his hands, and with fear of hunger driven off
now for the day secure, Simulus thereupon
girdles his shins with matching greaves and, covered with a cap,
drives the leather-harnessed heifers beneath their parent’s yoke
and urges them into the standing grain and sinks the plow in the earth.

DE INSTITVTIONE VIRI BONI

ON THE INSTRUCTION OF THE GOOD MAN

Vir bonus et sapiens, qualem uix repperit unum
milibus e cunctis hominum consultus Apollo,
iudex ipse sui totum se explorat ad unguem.
quid proceres uanique leuis quid opinio uolgi
securus, mundi instar habens, teres atque rotundus,
externae ne quid labis per leuia sidat.
ille, dies quam longus erit sub sidere Cancri
quantaque nox tropico se porrigit in Capricorno,
cogitat et iusto trutinae se examine pendit,
ne quid hiet, ne quid protuberet, angulus aequis
partibus ut coeat, nil ut deliret amussis,
sit solidum quodcumque subest, nec inania subter
indicet admotus digitis pellentibus ictus,
non prius in dulcem declinans lumina somnum,
omnia quam longi reputauerit acta diei:
qua praetergressus, quid gestum in tempore, quid non?

A good and wise man, such as consulted Apollo scarcely found one
out of thousands of all men, a judge of himself, examines himself to the nail.
what the nobles and what the vain, light opinion of the vulgus,
untroubled, having the likeness of a world, smooth and round,
lest any external blemish should settle through the smooth surface.
he considers how long the day will be under the star of Cancer
and how great a night stretches itself at the tropic in Capricorn,
and he weighs himself by the just assay of the balance,
lest anything gape, lest anything protrude, so that an angle may meet with equal parts,
that the straightedge may not in any way wander,
let whatever lies beneath be solid, nor let hollows underneath be indicated
by a blow applied by driving fingers,
not letting his eyes incline into sweet sleep before
he has reckoned up all the things done in the long day:
wherein he has overstepped, what was done in time, what not?

cur isti facto decus afuit aut ratio illi?
quid mihi praeteritum? cur haec sententia sedit
quam melius mutare fuit?

why was honor absent to that act, or reason to it?
what have I omitted? why did this opinion settle
which it had been better to change?

miseratus egentem
cur aliquem fracta persensi mente dolorem?
quid uolui quod nolle bonum foret? utile honesto
cur malus antetuli?

having pitied the needy
why did I perceive someone’s pain with a broken mind?
what did I desire that it would have been good not to desire? the useful to the honest
why did I, as a bad man, put before?

num dicto aut denique uoltu
perstrictus quisquam? cur me natura magis quam
disciplina trahit? sic dicta et facta per omnia
ingrediens ortoque a uespere cuncta reuoluens
offensus prauis dat palmam et praemia rectis.

Has anyone been scathed by a word or, finally, by my countenance?
Why does nature draw me more than discipline?
Thus, going through sayings and doings through all things,
and, with evening arisen, revolving everything,
offended by the crooked, he gives the palm and the prizes to the upright.

DE EST ET NON

ON IS AND IS NOT

Est et non cuncti monosyllaba nota frequentant.
his demptis nihil est, hominum quod sermo uolutet.
omnia in his et ab his sunt omnia, siue negoti
siue oti quicquam est, seu turbida siue quieta.

All frequent the well-known monosyllables ‘is’ and ‘not’.
with these removed, there is nothing that human discourse revolves about.
all things are in these, and from these are all things, whether of business
or of leisure whatever there is, whether turbulent or quiet.

alterutro pariter non numquam, saepe seorsis
obsistunt studiis, ut mores ingeniumque,
et facilis uel difficilis contentio nata est.
si consentitur, mora nulla interuenit 'est, est':
sin controuersum, dissensio subiciet 'non'.
hinc fora dissultant clamoribus, hinc furiosi
iurgia sunt circi, cuneati hinc laeta theatri
seditio, et tales agitat quoque curia lites.
coniugia et nati cum patribus ista quietis
uerba serunt studiis salua pietate loquentes.

sometimes with either alike, often separately,
they take their stand in partisanships, as do mores and ingenium,
and an easy or difficult contention is born.
if there is consent, no delay comes in: “is, is”;
but if it is controverted, dissension will put in “not.”
hence the fora burst with clamor, hence the furious
wrangles of the circus, hence the wedge-rowed theater’s glad sedition,
and the Curia too agitates such suits.
married couples and sons with fathers sow these words of quiet,
speaking their zeal with piety preserved.

hinc etiam placitis schola consona disciplinis
dogmaticas agitat placido certamine lites.
hinc omnis certat dialectica turba sophorum.
estne dies, est ergo dies?

From here too the school, consonant with approved disciplines,
stirs dogmatic disputes with a placid contest.
Hence the whole dialectic throng of sophists contends.
is it day? it is, therefore it is day?

non conuenit istuc.
nam facibus multis aut fulgoribus quotiens lux
est nocturna homini, non est lux ista diei.
est et non igitur, quotiens lucem esse fatendum est,
sed non esse diem.

that does not agree.
for by many torches or gleams, whenever there is nocturnal light for a man, that light is not the light of day.
therefore it both is and is not, whenever it must be admitted that there is light,
but that it is not day.

mille hinc certamina surgunt,
hinc pauci, multi quoque, talia commeditantes
murmure concluso rabiosa silentia rodunt.
qualis uita hominum, duo quam monosyllaba uersant!

a thousand contests arise hence,
hence the few, and many too, contriving such things,
with the murmur shut in, they gnaw rabid silences.
such is the life of men, how two monosyllables toss it!

DE ROSIS NASCENTIBVS

ON THE NASCENT ROSES

Ver erat et blando mordentia frigora sensu
     spirabat croceo mane reuecta dies.
strictior Eoos praecesserat aura iugales,
     aestiferum suadens anticipare diem.
errabam riguis per quadrua compita in hortis,
     maturo cupiens me uegetare die.

It was spring, and the day, returned with saffron morning, breathed with a soothing sense the frosts that bite;
     a crisper breeze had preceded the Eastern yoke-horses,
persuading one to anticipate the heat-bearing day.
     I was wandering in the irrigated gardens along the four-way crossroads,
     wishing to invigorate myself at an early hour of the day.

uidi concretas per gramina flexa pruinas
     pendere aut holerum stare cacuminibus,
caulibus et patulis teretes conludere guttas
* * *
uidi Paestano gaudere rosaria cultu
     exoriente nouo roscida Lucifero.
rara pruinosis canebat gemma frutectis
     ad primi radios interitura die.
ambigeres raperetne rosis Aurora ruborem
     an daret et flores tingeret orta dies.

I saw congealed rimes along the bent grasses
     hanging, or standing on the tips of kitchen-herbs,
and on stalks and outspread leaves the rounded drops playing together
* * *
I saw the rose-beds rejoice in Paestan cultivation,
     dewy with new-risen Lucifer.
an occasional bud was growing hoary in the frosted shrubberies
     destined to perish at the first rays of day.
you would have doubted whether Dawn was snatching the redness from the roses
     or was giving it, and, day arisen, dyeing the flowers.

ros unus, color unus, et unum mane duorum:
     sideris et floris nam domina una Venus.
forsan et unus odor: sed celsior ille per auras
     difflatur, spirat proximus iste magis.
communis Paphie dea sideris et dea floris
     praecipit unius muricis esse habitum.

one dew, one color, and one morning of the two:
     for the mistress of the star and the flower is one—Venus.
perhaps also one odor: but the loftier one through the auras
     is diffused; this nearer breathes more.
the common Paphian goddess, goddess of the star and goddess of the flower,
     prescribes that the attire be of a single murex.

momentum intererat quo se nascentia florum
     germina comparibus diuiderent spatiis.
haec uiret angusto foliorum tecta galero,
     hanc tenui filo purpura rubra notat,
haec aperit primi fastigia celsa obelisci,
     mucronem absoluens purpurei capitis.
uertice collectos illa exinuabat amictus,
     iam meditans foliis se numerare suis.

a moment intervened, at which the nascent shoots of flowers
     divided themselves into comparable spaces.
this one is green, covered by a narrow cap of leaves,
     a red purple marks that one with a slender thread,
this one opens the lofty summits of the first obelisk,
     completing the point of the purple head.
vertex that one was stripping off the garments gathered at the crown,
     already meditating to number herself by her own leaves.

nec mora: ridentis calathi patefecit honorem,
     prodens inclusi stamina densa croci.
haec, modo quae toto rutilauerat igne comarum,
     pallida conlapsis deseritur foliis.
mirabar celerem fugitiua aetate rapinam,
     et dum nascuntur consenuisse rosas.

nor was there delay: it laid open the honor of the smiling calathus,
     revealing the dense threads of the enclosed crocus.
this one, which just now had blazed with the whole fire of its tresses,
     pale, is abandoned, its petals having collapsed.
I marveled at the swift rapine by fugitive time,
     and that, while they are being born, the roses had grown old.

ecce et defluxit rutili coma punica floris
     dum loquor, et tellus tecta rubore micat.
tot species tantosque ortus uariosque nouatus
     una dies aperit, conficit ipsa dies.
conquerimur, Natura, breuis quod gratia florum:
     ostentata oculis ilico dona rapis.

behold, too, the pomegranate-red hair of the ruddy flower has flowed down
     while I speak, and the earth, covered with redness, gleams.
so many species and such great origins and various renovations
     one day opens; the day itself brings them to an end.
we complain, Nature, that the grace of flowers is brief:
     the gifts displayed to the eyes you snatch away immediately.

quam longa una dies, aetas tam longa rosarum,
     quas pubescentes iuncta senecta premit.
quam modo nascentem rutilus conspexit Eoos,
     hanc rediens sero uespere uidit anum.
sed bene quod paucis licet interitura diebus
     succedens aeuum prorogat ipsa suum.

As long as a single day, so long is the age of roses,
     whom, pubescent, conjoined senescence presses.
which the ruddy Dawn just now beheld being born,
     returning late at evening he saw as an old woman.
yet well that, though destined to perish in a few days,
     itself, by a succeeding age, prolongs its own span.

collige, uirgo, rosas dum flos nouus et noua pubes,
et memor esto aeuum sic properare tuum.

gather, virgin, the roses while the flower is new and the youth new,
and be mindful that thus your lifetime hastens.