Landor: Poems of 1795

Haec autem redintegrata studia, quae solebam acriter et attente prosequi, nunc lentus atque languidus respicio. Tamen adolescentiae, non inaniter consumptae, non oscitanter obdormitae, reminisci iucundum est.

However, these renewed studies, which I used to pursue keenly and attentively, I now look back upon sluggish and languid. Yet to recall an adolescence not inanely consumed, not drowsily slept through, is pleasant.

Mea quidem hos, qualescunque sint, fructus tulit: acerbos aliquando et immites fateor.

For my part, it has borne these fruits, whatever they may be: acerbic at times and unripe, I confess.

I
AD CATULLUM
An felix fuerit solum Quirini
Incepi dubitare, quod tulisset
Tot civilia bella Caesaresque:
At, divine Catulle! cum putâssem
Ut suavis fueris, et ut Diones
Cesto laeta Camaena cingeretur,
Tum fugere procul, repente, ocellis
Et civilia bella Caesaresque;
Atque omnis dubitatio recessit
Quin felix fuerit solum Quirini
Te, divine Catulle! te poeta.

Whether the soil of Quirinus had been blessed
I began to doubt, because it had borne
so many civil wars and Caesars:
But, divine Catullus! when I had thought
how sweet you had been, and how the Camena,
joyous, might be girded with Dione’s Cestus,
then suddenly there fled far away from my little eyes
both the civil wars and the Caesars;
and all doubt receded
that the soil of Quirinus had been blessed—
you, divine Catullus! you the poet.

II
AD AMICUM
Faustam se mea Musa praedicabit
P * * * ! tibi: namque liberari
Orbem vidit iniquitate regum:
Faustam quod meminit duces Britannum
Horrentes scelus, ac sacro pavore
Perculsos, remeasse ab Occidenti!
Nolebantque diutius manere
Hostes fratribus, Innocentiaeque
In templo, emeriti! manus lavabant.

2
TO A FRIEND
My Muse will proclaim herself auspicious
P * * * ! to you: for she has seen the world set free
from the iniquity of kings:
Auspicious, because she remembers the British leaders,
shuddering at the crime, and smitten with sacred dread,
to have returned from the West!
And they no longer wished to remain
as enemies to their brothers, and in the temple
of Innocence, O veterans! they were washing their hands.

Nuper, laeta, refrigerantis Arcti
Reges undique, Satrapasque Regum,
Collectos ut acerba fata ferrent
Gallis, vidit inermibus repelli.
En! ut omnia damna, quae parabant
Genti magnanimae, sibi irruere.
En! ut ridiculum iacent; ut hoste
Conculcantur inutiles coronae!

Recently, glad, she saw the kings of the chilling Arctic
from every side, and the satraps of the kings,
gathered to carry bitter fates
to the Gauls, driven back by the unarmed.
Behold! how all the losses which they were preparing
for the magnanimous nation rush upon themselves.
Behold! how they lie ridiculous; how by the foe
useless crowns are trampled underfoot!

En! quae non poterant suis saluti
Servis esse, malum aut diem fugare,
Procuduntur imagines Deorum.

Nos, qui talia vidimus, potimur
Vitae muneribus, cupiditatum
Expertes; tamen est quod haud Silebo,
Et quo se mea Musa praedicabit
Faustam non habet, aut cupit, Patronum.

III
Dii! vobis ago gratias; ago, Dii
Magnas non quia flaveant aristis
Arva, aut gramine prata laeta vernent
At, quod vos mihi Stoicam quietem,
At quod ilia dura, praebuistis,
Nec risu quatiunda nec dolore.
Nam quis, iure alio, videre possit
Quae nos quotidie videmus?

Behold! those who could not be for their servants’ salvation,
nor ward off the evil day,
the images of the gods are being forged.

We, who have seen such things, enjoy
the gifts of life, devoid of desires;
yet there is something I will by no means be silent about,
and by which my Muse will make her boast—
she has not, nor does she desire, a favorable Patron.

3
Gods! to you I give thanks; I give, O gods,
great thanks—not because the fields grow golden with ears of grain,
or the meadows, joyful, grow verdant with grass;
but because you have afforded to me Stoic quiet,
and those hard things,
to be shaken by neither laughter nor pain.
For who, by any other right, could behold
the things which we see every day?

O Dii!
Vos ridetis opinor intueri
Tam macrum atque misellum homuncionem.
Quo venalius est nihil sub astris,
Adulantibus adpeti catervis.

Hic, quos attinet alma cura templi,
Splendescunt dapibus tumentque vino:
Hic, quos purpura delegata plebi
Vestit, mane frequenter hunc salutant;
Obrepuntque silenter, annuuntque
Summisse caput, et genu pavimento
Inflectunt tremulum: ordine antecedit
- Tam summissa, silens, tremensque, turba
Importuna Cubiculariorum.

Felices!

O Gods!
You, I suppose, laugh to behold so lean and wretched a little homunculus; than whom nothing is more venal under the stars, to be courted by fawning cohorts.

Here, those whom the kindly care of the temple concerns, shine with feasts and swell with wine: here, those whom the purple, delegated by the plebs, clothes, often in the morning greet this man; and they creep in silently, and they nod, submissively their head, and they bend their trembling knee to the pavement: in order there goes before—the so submissive, silent, and trembling crowd— the importunate throng of the Chamberlains.

Happy ones!

quibus, inter haec, dedistis
Et servare fidem et tenere risus.

IV
AD CATULLUM
Vilem laesus ut execror Cachistum,
Anne te sequar, O Catulle! versu?

to whom, amid these things, you have given
both to preserve faith and to hold in laughter.

IV
TO CATULLUS
Being hurt, how I execrate the vile Cachistus,
Or shall I follow you, O Catullus, in verse?

Tanto me superas, Catulle! versu
Quanto dulcior est Amor Furore.

V
AD CACHISTUM
Heus! homo Venerique Gratiisque
Invisissime, nec minus Camaenis!

By so much you surpass me, Catullus, in verse,
as much as Love is sweeter than Fury.

V
TO CACHISTUS
Hey! man most hateful to Venus and the Graces,
and no less to the Muses!

Audi paucula quae mihi, hac sub ulmo
Acres Hendecasyllabi ministrant.
Verum, in principio Cachiste! causum
Vis dicem tibi claudicationis?

Listen to a few trifles which, for me, beneath this elm
keen Hendecasyllables minister.
But, at the outset, Cachistus! the cause
do you wish me to tell you of the claudication?

Paucis, dum requiesco, causam habebis.

Novisti graviter, Cachiste! Musas
Iniustum exilium meum tulisse:
Novisti graviter, Cachiste! Musas
Hoc a tempore strenuis iambis,
Alcaeive sonantibus flagellis
Gravisas tua verberare terga.

Paulisper maneas, amabo!

In few words, while I rest, you shall have the cause.

You know full well, Cachistus! that the Muses have taken my unjust exile hard:
You know full well, Cachistus! that the Muses,
from this time, with strenuous iambs,
and with Alcaeus’s resounding scourges,
are to lash your weighed-down back.

Do wait a little, please!

amabo!
Iambo pede fessus ut recumbem,
Tunc mittam tibi carmen hac ab ulmo.

VI
AD CACHISTUM
CUIUS CHARTAE QUAEDAM COMBURERENTUR.
Si possis mihi dic, Cachiste! charta
Dum flammis tua stridula ureretur,
Num maior fuit ista poena chartae
Humenti, vapidaeque, frigidaeque
Tam tarda misere perire morte,
An flammis adeo obstinatam habere
Amplexu in calido, Cachiste!

please!
tired with the iambic foot, as I recline,
then I will send you a poem from this elm.

6
TO CACHISTUS
OF WHOM CERTAIN PAGES WERE BURNED.
If you can, tell me, Cachistus! while your hissing paper
was being burned by the flames,
was that the greater penalty for the paper—
damp, vapid, and cold—
to perish so miserably by so slow a death,
or to have it, so obstinately, in the hot embrace
of the flames, Cachistus!

praedam?

VII
AD CACHISTUM
Debentur tibi, mi Cachiste! grates
Quod tu materiem, satis, dedisti
Ventosaeque venustulaeque Musae:
Et quidnam, mihi dic, negare possim
Ventosaeque venustulaeque Musae?
Si laetatur, equos iubet parari
*Ut tecum volitet super cacumen
Pindi, Pegaseo insonans volatu,
Et pingit duplici colore pennas
Queis sublime per aera auferaris.

Seu, distorta morosiore vultu,
Quaerat materiem novam querelae,
Tu das materiem novam querelae.

prey?

VII
TO CACHISTUS
Thanks are owed to you, my Cachistus!
Because you have given material enough
to the windy and winsome little Muses:
And what, tell me, could I deny
to the windy and winsome little Muses?
If she rejoices, she orders the horses to be made ready
*To fly with you over the summit
of Pindus, resounding with Pegasean flight,
and she paints her feathers with a double color
wherewith you are borne aloft through the air on high.

Or, with a more morose face distorted,
if she seeks new material for complaint,
you give new material for complaint.

Tum, si forte facetiis adornat
Carmen quod rabida inchoârit Ira,
Subridet: velut inquiere vates
Emersam Venerem mari, columbis
Iunctis ante vehentibusque concham.

*Scripseram Cachisti mutationem in picam: Imitatus illud Menagianum de pari clade Gargilii.

VIII
AD BRITANNIAM
BELLO IN ASIA FELICITER PERFECTO
O! Regina Britannia Insularum!
Orbis lucidus universi ocellus!

Then, if by chance he adorns with witticisms the song which rabid Wrath had begun,
he smiles: as the bard would say, Venus emerging from the sea, with doves
yoked in front and carrying the conch.

*I had written Cachistus’s mutation into a magpie: imitating that Menagian piece about the equal calamity of Gargilius.

VIII
TO BRITAIN
WITH THE WAR IN ASIA HAPPILY COMPLETED
O! Queen Britannia of the Islands!
the bright little eye of the whole universe!

Bellique* arbiter, Artiumque mater!
Pulso a finibus Indiae Tyranno,
Ac natis Asiatico triumpho
Missis ad tua castra, nonne Pacem
Optas finitimis favere terris?
Et tu perpatiare sic tyrannos
Tot induere Galliae tumultus?

And arbiter of war*, and mother of the arts!
With the Tyrant driven from the borders of India,
and your sons, for an Asiatic triumph,
sent to your camp, do you not wish Peace
to favor the neighboring lands?
And will you also endure thus that tyrants
inflict so many tumults upon Gaul?

En hos consequitur Rapina, Caedes,
Et Fames malesuada, visque Martis:
Hic Discordia saevit; ecce pallam
Scissam, et purpureo oblitam cruore!
Hic Bellona ruentibus catervis
Ignes iniicit; atque melleos Mors
Prosternit pede flosculos Iuventae.

Infelix puer! imminente letho,
Expectant male te tui parentes!

Lo, upon these follow Rapine, Slaughter,
and ill-seducing Hunger, and the force of Mars:
here Discord rages; behold the mantle
torn, and smeared with purpureal gore!
Here Bellona on the rushing squadrons
casts fires; and Death with her foot lays low
the honey-sweet flowerets of Youth.

Unhappy boy! with death impending,
your parents, alas, await you in vain!

Et lactata puella spe, lacertis
Heu! inanibus, heu! vacante lecto,
Dulci se tibi somnio volutat.

And the girl, enticed by hope, with arms
Alas! empty, alas! with the bed vacant,
tosses and turns herself toward you in a sweet dream.

O crudelia bella! mane clamat,
Ter crudelia! vos enim abstulistis
Illum quem mihi blanda Nox reducit
Et gaudens tenebris Amor: tamen Mors
Hoc a pectore bella nil valetis!

O cruel wars! in the morning she cries,
Thrice cruel! for you have taken away
Him whom coaxing Night brings back to me
And Love rejoicing in the shadows: yet, Death,
from this breast you wars avail nothing!

Tam charum caput una dimovebit.

*Verbo masculini generis hic usus sum: haud aliter Livius, ni fallor, verum arbitrum Romam appellavit.

IX
DE CATONE ET CAESARE
Ut vitam, Cato!

One day will remove so dear a head.

*I have used a verb of the masculine gender here: not otherwise did Livy, if I am not mistaken, call Rome a true arbiter.

9
ON CATO AND CAESAR
As for life, Cato!

Caesari invidebas
Sic mortem tibi Caesar invidebat.

X
AD PAPYRIUM CURSOREM POETAM
Illud me penitus pudet fateri
Cursor! quod temerarius proposti
Qualis sit tua, me arbitro, Camaena.
At fabor licet illico erubescem.

Hanc Afrae similem puto volucri
Quae, cum protulit ora, mandat actae
Et Phaebi radiis; deinde pullos
Crudos, non reditura, derelinquit.

You were envious of Caesar
Thus death was envious of you, Caesar.

10
TO PAPYRIUS CURSOR THE POET
I am deeply ashamed to confess this,
Cursor! that rashly you proposed
Of what sort your Camena is, with me as arbiter.
Yet I will speak, though I shall blush at once.

I deem her like the African bird
who, when she has brought forth, entrusts what has been laid
to the Sun and to Phoebus’s rays; then her chicks,
raw, not to return, she leaves behind.

XI
DE POETARUM INFORTUNIIS
Eheu! vae tibi! vae tibi!

11
ON THE MISFORTUNES OF POETS
Alas! woe to you! woe to you!

O Poeta!
Qui curaeve vel aestimationi
Te Diis esse, miselle, praedicaris.
Olim vae tibi!

O Poet!
You who to care or estimation
are proclaimed, poor little wretch, to be to the gods.
One day woe to you!

vae! senex Poeta!
Aeque sancta Poesis ac Senectus
Aeque nunc inopes iacent.

woe! old Poet!
Equally sacred Poetry and Old Age
Equally now lie destitute.

Quid, oro,
Valent, ingenium, ioci, lepores,
Lusus, deliciae, dicacitates,
Atque omnis chorus Elegantiarum
Quae molli pede quo lubet vagantur?
Dum tu, quo iubet illa saeva Diva
Illa quae regit Antium, vagaris.

XII
AD AMICUM
Chare P***! quid ago requiris?

What, I pray,
avail ingenuity, jests, charms,
pastimes, delights, dicacities,
and the whole chorus of Elegancies
which with a soft foot wander where they please?
While you, where that savage Goddess bids
she who rules Antium, wander.

11I
TO A FRIEND
Dear P***! you ask what I am doing?

Saepe vel tento lepidum Catulli
Carmen, aut tendit mihi Martialis
Musa flagellos.

Rideo, sperno, rabidum Cachistum:
Hei mihi! semper brevis ille risus!
Currui adsigo Scelus, at molestat
Cura triumphum.

Heu iuventutis reditura nunquam
Gaudia!

Often I either try the charming song of Catullus, or Martial’s Muse proffers me her scourges.

I laugh, I spurn rabid Cachistus:
Alas for me! that laughter is always brief!
I fasten Crime to my chariot, but Care troubles the triumph.

Alas, Joys of youth never to return!

infestâ mihi dempta dextrâ;
Innocens risus, agilesque ludi,
Laetaque frontis.

Pila, trans aulam validis lacertis
Acta non crebro resonat; nec aura
Fert citum binis peditum catervis
Altius orbem

Non leves, aptae stabilire foedus
Mutuum, rixae; nec operta stratis
Ora, cum longas timidasque ducit
Fabula noctes.

Haec ego interdum memini, iuvatque
Et dolet; quaedam dolor est voluptas:
Sed parum mitis mea lenta corda
Torquet amaror.

Eia age! abstergam lacrymas; Iacchum
In coronatos cyathos vocabo:
Reddat elapsum catus ille Tempus,
Gaudia reddat.

Forsan et dulcem referat Sodalem,
At procul nobis abes, O Sodalis!
Sin minus, primum mea te iubebunt
Vota valere.

with my right hand taken from me by a hostile stroke;
Innocent laughter, and agile games,
and the gladness of the brow.

The ball, driven across the hall by sturdy biceps,
does not resound often; nor does the breeze
carry the swift orb higher with two companies of footmen.
higher the circle

Not the light quarrels, apt to stabilize a mutual covenant,
nor faces covered with bedspreads,
when story leads out long and timorous nights.
tales through the nights.

These things I sometimes remember, and it both delights
and pains; in a way pain is a pleasure:
but a not-gentle bitterness twists my slow heart.
bitterness torques it.

Come, up! I will wipe away tears; Iacchus
I will summon into garlanded cups:
let that shrewd Time give back what has slipped away,
let it give back joys.

Perhaps he will even bring back the sweet Companion—
but you are far from us, O Companion!
If not, my vows will first bid you
to fare well.

XIII
Saepe iussisti quid in his opinor
Rebus, O tibi mitteretur
Sedulo, donec violare pacem
Purpura cesset.

Aureus donis rabidos tyrannos
Burcus ad coelum tulit, at querelas
Temnit infestas venientis aevi,
Temnit honores.

Quam potest aurum! male dehonestat
Propter hoc, priscumque genus Senator
Seque, nec canos meminit capillos
Morte minari.

Ore quam torvo inspicient parentes
Pallidum fortes, ubi mistus umbris
Umbra! per dura tenebrosa Ditis
Regna vagatur.

Aeacus nullâ reticet loquelâ;
Nec iacet torpens veluti videtur
Bos, sub aestivi medio diei,
Stratus in herbâ.

Ecce!

XIII
Often you have ordered, as I suppose, what in these matters should be sent to you
diligently, O you, until the Purple ceases to violate the peace.
The Purple cease.

The aureus, by gifts, has lifted rabid tyrants to heaven; but Burcus
scorns the hostile complaints of the coming age,
and he scorns honors.
He scorns honors.

How much gold can do! On this account it badly dishonors
the ancient Senatorial stock and himself, and he does not remember
his gray hairs to be threatened by death.
To be threatened by death.

With how grim a face will parents, stout, look upon
the pallid one, when, mingled with shades—Shade!—
through the hard, tenebrous realms of Dis
he wanders.

Aeacus keeps silence in no speech;
nor does he lie torpid, as an ox seems,
beneath the mid of a summer day,
stretched on the grass.

Behold!

fatalem quatit aequus urnam;
Ecce quam circum miseri ministri.
Stant! silet totum nisi quod revolvis
Sisyphe!

the impartial one shakes the fateful urn;
Behold how around it the wretched attendants.
They stand! All is silent except what you roll,
Sisyphus!

saxum:

Et procul stridor resonat rotarum
Raptus Ixion ubi, tot per annos,
Flevit, et flebit, nimium petisse
Improba vota.

XIV
Roscida incumbens properabat ala
Vesper, et tingens radiis Olympum
Sol recedebat: Labor ante postes
Fixerat arma.

Terra subridet. Pueri, ecce!

the rock:

And from afar the screech of wheels resounds
where Ixion, whirled away, for so many years,
has wept, and will weep, that he sought too much—
wicked vows.

XIV
Evening, leaning on dewy wing, was hastening,
and, dyeing Olympus with its rays,
the Sun was withdrawing: Labor had fixed
his arms before the doorposts.

The earth smiles. Boys, look!

nymphas
Elicent claris fidibus; Colono
De manu vomer cadit, et lavantur
Brachia rivo.

Currit ad campum citus. O Puella
Fausta! cui sese, mediâ sodales
Fronte robustos supereminenti,
Conferet heros.

Tela deponit violenta miles,
En! et hirsutam galeam corollis
Ornat immistis, sociique visu
Nympha superbit.

Fluctuant flatu Zephyri corollae
Et viri et nymphae simul; alma Cypri
Marsque sic unâ roseis in hortis
Ora gerebant.

XV
Heu!

they draw forth the nymphs with bright lyres; from the farmer’s hand the ploughshare falls, and arms are washed
in the stream.
He runs swift to the field. O fortunate maiden! to whom the hero will match himself, towering in the midst above his sturdy comrades
with his prominent brow.
The soldier lays down his violent weapons—lo! and he adorns his bristling helmet with interwoven garlands, and at the sight the nymph
is proud, and his comrades too.
The garlands of both man and nymph ripple in the breath of Zephyr together; thus the gracious One of Cyprus and Mars together
bore their faces in rosy gardens.

15
Alas!

meis tandem Cytheraea curis
Parce! lenimen precibus negabis
Cum tuum numen toties adorem
Carmine Sapphus?

Illa sublimi volucres in aurâ
Passeres vidit quoties ad aras
Supplicaretur tibi, et annuebas
Blandula votis:

Dulce subridens Dea! Iam Phaontis
Candidae subpurpurei lacerti
Ambiunt collum, ac tepidâ Cupido
Ventilat alâ

Iam nec umbrosum Zephyrus recessum
Abnuit molli recreare flatu;
Ille campestris, volitans, videtur
Frater Amoris

Ille dormitos, Dea dura!

Cytheraean, at last spare my cares!
Will you deny a leniment to prayers,
when so often I adore your numen
with Sappho’s song?

She saw the winged sparrows in the high
air as often as there was supplication to you
at the altars, and you were nodding assent,
charmingly, to the prayers:

Sweetly smiling Goddess! Now Phaon’s
white, faintly purpled arms
encircle the neck, and Cupid
fans with his tepid wing.

Now not even Zephyrus refuses
to refresh the shady recess with soft breath;
he, of the fields, flitting, seems
the brother of Love.

He the sleepers, harsh Goddess!

flores
Suadet amplexum tenerum subire:
Illo et absenti rosa pulchra marcet,
Lilia languent.

Nonne marcesunt, age dic puellae?
Nonne languescunt? iubar his Iuventae
Cur micat, verno nisi lusum eatur
Tempore vitae.

XVI
O Puellarum chorus!

flowers
He urges to undergo a tender embrace:
Even when he is absent, the fair rose withers,
The lilies languish.

Do they not wither? come, tell the maiden;
Do they not languish? Why does the radiance of Youth
shine for these, unless one go forth to play
in the vernal season of life.

16
O Chorus of Maidens!

O Dianae
Candidae zonâ refluente nymphae!
Phyllidi aequandam, lepidae, potestis
Dicere nomen?

Dicite: illius mea Musa famam
Phyllidi iunctam mala non tacebit.
Quid loquor?

O nymphs of Diana
with the candid zone flowing back! Can you, lepid ones, to Phyllis
speak a name to be equated?

Say it: my Muse will not, for evils, keep silent of her fame
joined to Phyllis. What am I saying?

talem haud pharetrata vidit
Diva puellam.

Ergo parcetis iterum nocere
Phyllidis nostrae nitido decori,
Invidae Nymphae! neque triste sparget
Lingua venenum.

Insequi mollem dominam, et fugare
A genis illi ambrosium ruborem
Quid valet?

Such a one has the quiver-bearing Goddess not seen
a maiden.

Therefore you will refrain from hurting again
the shining comeliness of our Phyllis,
envious Nymphs! nor will the tongue scatter baleful
venom.

To pursue the tender mistress, and to drive
from her cheeks that ambrosial blush—
what avails it?

nostrae quid inhaesit hasta
Vestra Dione.

Vos nimis duras satis indicabant
Lumina: immistâ taciturnitate
Laesa defectâ tremula edidit sus-
piria linguâ.

Vos decet nigris adhibere nodum
Crinibus, vestri est Borean vocare
In sinum nudam, et penetrare cornu
Devia sylvae.

Vos decet fortes catulos ciere
Per locos crassâ rigidos pruinâ,
Mane ubi nondum radiante gemmae
Sole liquescunt.

Illa per suaves adytus rosarum
Mitis incedet, modulosque avenae
Et levem cantum aeria insusurret
Filia vocis.

Inde Livoris digito notari
Tuta vitabit: prece nil ad aras
Adpetens, lectis Veneri sacellum
Floribus ornet.

XVII
Nil, O P***! praeter bona vota, recessu
Exanimis, poterit tibi mittere Rugbia: vino
Solo animi redeunt, et dulcia carmina vino.
Hoc mihi saepe rubet, non deficiente crumenâ
Nunc velut ante: tamen non amplius illa ministrat
Gaudia quae quondam celeres ubicunque ferinam
Quaesumus, niveas quo late Aquila explicat alas,
Quove nigra erectum baculum complectitur Ursa,
Pennigerumve premit Serpentem Celticus Heros.

Verum ubi diripior?

what spear of ours has stuck fast in your Dione.

Your eyes proclaimed you all too hard enough: mingled with taciturnity,
wounded, with her failing, trembling tongue she gave forth sighs.

It befits you to apply a knot to black hair,
it is yours to call Boreas into your naked bosom, and with the horn to penetrate
the pathless places of the wood.

It befits you to rouse stout whelps through places stiff with thick hoarfrost,
in the morning when as yet the gems do not melt in the shining sun.

She, gentle, will walk through the sweet adyta of roses,
and the daughter of voice will whisper into the air the measures of the oaten pipe
and a light song.

Then, safe, she will avoid being marked by the finger of Envy:
seeking nothing by prayer at the altars, let her adorn for Venus a little chapel
with chosen flowers.

17
Nothing, O P***!, besides good wishes, faint in withdrawal,
will Rugby be able to send you: by wine alone spirits return, and sweet songs by wine.
At this I often blush, the purse not failing now as before:
yet no more does it supply those joys which once, swift, wherever we seek the quarry—
where widely the Eagle unfolds her snowy wings,
or where the black Bear embraces the upright staff,
or the Celtic Hero presses the feathered Serpent.
But where am I being torn away?

versus, quem libera dictat
Mens mea, lene fluat; nam cor dabit absque Camaenâ.
At vocor; en! sonipes ut fraena lupata remordet.
Iamque vale. His abeuns a sedibus, alta reviso
Tecta ubi Bacchus adest, Bacchoque beatior Hospes.

the verse, which my free Mind dictates,
let it flow gently; for the heart will give without the Muse.
But I am called; lo! how the steed champs the wolf-toothed reins.
And now, farewell. Departing from these seats, I revisit
the lofty roofs where Bacchus is present, and as a Guest more blessed by Bacchus.

Illic, plena tuum ut sacrarunt pocula nomen,
Tum chari oblitus fio paulisper amici.

XVIII
Si, Melibaee! iuvet quandoque per arva vagari,
Pandit odoratum quo rosa multa decus:
Ne, male defessus! sub gramine languida sternes
Membra; sub infido gramine Fata latent.

There, when the brimming cups consecrated your name,
then I become for a little while forgetful of my dear friend.

18
If, Meliboeus! it should sometime please you to wander through the fields,
where many a rose spreads its fragrant ornament:
Do not, ill-wearied! beneath the grass you will lay your languid
limbs; beneath treacherous grass the Fates lie hidden.

Sirius ut Solem comitatur, iniquior aestu,
Decedit solito vipera quaeque cavo.
Tunc tumet irato metuenda Tarantula morsu,
Quem, licet exiguum, nil Medicina levat.
Miris ora modis pallent, et inertia membra
Corporis insolito pondere pressa tremunt.

As Sirius accompanies the Sun, more oppressive with heat,
each viper departs from its accustomed hollow.
Then the fearsome Tarantula swells with an angry bite,
which, though slight, nothing in Medicine relieves.
Faces grow pale in wondrous ways, and the inert limbs
pressed by the unaccustomed weight of the body, tremble.

At quem non potis es medicamine pellere morbum
Phaebe! agili choreâ carminibusque domas.
Et virus, misto sudore, fugatur in auras
Cum salit ad magicum saucia turba sonum.

But the disease which you are not able to drive out by medicine,
Phoebus! you subdue with agile dance and incantations.
And the poison, in mingled sweat, is put to flight into the air
when the wounded crowd leaps to the magic sound.

Sed, sua cuique placent modulamina. Rusticus audit
Gratius incomptos quos dat avena modos.
Miles ad armorum sonitus, strepitumque tubarum
Surgit, et horrendo percitus igne valet.

But, each man’s own modulations please him. The rustic hears
more gladly the unadorned modes which the oaten pipe gives.
The soldier at the sound of arms, and the din of trumpets,
rises, and, stirred by a dreadful fire, is strong.

At fortasse tibi fuerit, Melibaee! valere
Cum dilecta gravem te tua Laura vocat.

XIX
Dum per Biltonios errabam devius agros,
Atque inconsulto dulce patebat iter:
Tunc, vel avem sequerer, quae nollem linquere nidum
Nolit, et impavide pipilat ante pedes:
Aut, humili volitante alâ per florida prata,
Ducerer in vetitas papilione moras:
Forte, iisdem studiis versata ignobilis otî,
Venit eundem ipsum nescia nympha locum.
Ver tenerum spirabat; erat tenera ipsa puella.

But perhaps it will have been better for you, Meliboeus, to take your leave
when your beloved Laura calls you, heavy of heart.

19
While I was wandering off-track through the Biltonian fields,
and, unadvised, a sweet path lay open:
then, I might even follow a bird, which would not wish to leave its nest,
and fearlessly chirps before my feet;
or, with lowly wing fluttering through flowery meadows,
I might be drawn into forbidden delays by a butterfly:
by chance, busied in the same pursuits of ignoble leisure,
a nymph, unknowing, came to that very same place.
Spring breathed tenderly; the girl herself was tender.

At nec Amoris inops, at nec inepta iugo.
Purpureis velut uva tumet succosa racemis,
Aut pueri digitis inviolata rosa;
Pectora sic illi suffusa rubore tumebant,
Ora pudicitiae tale tulere decus.
Ilicet obstupeo; vox languida faucibus haeret,
Corda micant erebro, genua soluta labant.

But neither destitute of Love, nor inept for the yoke.
As a grape swells, juicy, on purple clusters,
Or a rose inviolate by a boy’s fingers;
So her breasts thus swelled, suffused with blush,
Her face bore such a grace of modesty.
Straightway I am stupefied; a languid voice sticks in my throat,
My heart flutters in the dark, my loosened knees give way.

Hac ego luce puer, memori bene mente recordor,
Certior incepi scire quid esset amor.

XX
Me iuvat in campis pueros lususque videre,
Praeteritos animo me revocare, dies.
Ergo iterum aspicio te, Rugbia laeta! sodales
Ergo iterum veteres, aspiciensque fleo.

On this very day, as a boy, I well remember,
With surer knowledge I began to know what love was.

20
It delights me in the fields to see the boys and their games,
To call back in mind my bygone days.
Therefore again I behold you, cheerful Rugby! comrades
Therefore again the old companions, and, looking, I weep.

Non quia me miserum tua linquere iusserit arva
Iste sed indignos reprime, Musa! modos.
At Natura iubet, quae me mollissima finxit,
Non mala, nec iusto membra vigore carent.

Not because your fields have bidden me, a wretch, to leave,
But restrain, Muse, those unworthy modes!
But Nature bids, who has fashioned me very soft,
Not evil, nor do my limbs lack just vigor.

Sed lacrymas oculo quoties velit elicet, et me
Excruciant alii quae leviora putant.
Stipes agro non est, non septa virentia rident
Vere novo, modicâ non strepit amnis aquâ;
Pernicem puerum quae transiluisse recordor,
Quin ictu subito pectora pulsa micent.

Aspice, conigerae nutant ut in aere pinus,
Subter, ut aureolis laeta genista comis!
Insula!

But as often as it wills, it draws tears from my eye, and those things which others think lighter excruciate me.
Not a stake stands in the field, not do the green hedges laugh in the new spring, not does the stream murmur with modest water,
which I remember the nimble boy to have leapt across,
but that my smitten breast quivers at a sudden stroke.

Look, how the cone-bearing pines nod in the air,
underneath, how the broom, glad with golden locks!
Island!

tu mihi surgis; ego te saepe solebam
Cingere flore capri, te decorare rosis!
Ambit et hos flores, fine nomine, parvula Nympha,
Nympha sub ardenti mox peritura Cane.
Illius in ripâ quoties sub vespere sedi,
Compingens lyricis anxia verba modis!

you rise for me; I was often wont
to gird you with goat’s-beard blossom, to adorn you with roses!
And even these flowers a tiny Nymph, with no name, encircles,
a Nymph soon to perish beneath the burning Dog.
On her bank how often under evening I sat,
piecing together my anxious words to lyric modes!

Forsitan aut calamo liquidas Elegeia voces
Leniter inflaret, forsitan aptus Amor.
Ista diu periere; diu si dicere fas est,
Cum iam bis novies haud mihi venit hyems
At sero linquant puerilia tempora mentem
Quae nisi cum gemitu nec reputare licet.

XXI
SIC, SIC IUVAT IRE SUB UMBRAS Virgil

Sola, Cupidineas volvens sub pectore curas,
Infido statuit Laura perire viro.
Nuper in Hesperias Phoebus descenderat undas,
Coeperat e tepidâ surgere valla vapor:
Plena reliquissent fulvae mulctralia vaccae,
Longaque frendentem terruit umbra canem.

Perhaps either Elegy with the reed would softly breathe liquid voices,
perhaps apt Love would. Long have those things perished—long, if it is lawful to say—
since as yet twice nine winters have not come to me.
But late may boyish times leave the mind,
which it is permitted to recount not otherwise than with a groan.

21
THUS, THUS IT PLEASES TO GO BENEATH THE SHADES Virgil

Alone, rolling Cupid-ine cares beneath her breast,
Laura resolved to perish for the unfaithful man.
Lately Phoebus had descended into the Hesperian waves,
from the tepid vale vapor had begun to rise:
The tawny cows had left their full milking-pails,
and the long shadow terrified the gnashing dog.

Iamque vagis Virgo compleverat omne querelis,
Cum serum varias per nemus audit aves.
Ingreditur: non illa petit lenimina luctus,
Corde sed e tristi talia verba ruunt.
Vae!

And now the Maiden had filled everything with wandering complaints,
when, late, she hears the various birds through the grove.
She enters: she does not seek alleviations of grief,
but from a sad heart such words rush forth.
Woe!

quousque viro sic temnar? inultaque temnar?
Debuerat potius quod licet ille mori!

how long am I to be thus scorned by the man? and scorned unavenged?
He ought rather to have done what is permitted—to die!

Ulmo a procerâ suspendar , inutile pondus,
Hei mihi! vel rapidis obruta mergar aquis?
Obruta merga aquis?

Shall I be hung from a lofty elm , a useless weight,
Alas for me! or, overwhelmed, shall I be submerged by rapid waters?
Overwhelmed, shall I be submerged by the waters?

eheu! fortasse sepulchrum
Non erit, et nullo carmine nota tegar.
Talia dicebat, cum linquens Tityrus umbram
Ecce puellares sternitur ante pedes.

alas! perhaps a sepulcher
will not be, and, marked by no song, I shall be covered.
She was saying such things, when, leaving the shade, Tityrus
behold, is laid low before the maidenly feet.

Anne decet lacrymis madefiant Virginis ora,
Illa ora, illa novâ candidiora nive.
O! mea nectareas abstergant basia guttas
Morte ferâ debet virgo tenella mori?
Suspendare?

Is it fitting that the Virgin’s face be soaked with tears,
those features, those, whiter than new snow?
O! may my nectarous kisses wipe away the drops—
Must the tender maiden die by savage death?
Am I to be hanged?

sequar fugientis ad astra sodalis,
Teque iubente altis obruar unus aquis.
Qualia dixit habes: licet haud memore quid egit;
Hoc Musaeque vetant, et vetat ipse Pudor.
Laetior hinc animus Laurae: Mors undique fugit:
Fertur et haec dulci fassa fuisse proco.
Certa fui lethi; sic, sic iuvat ire sub umbras
O! mihi talem obitum quaelibet hora ferat.

XXII
AD AMICUM
Dona, suis olim Musis, oblata Tibullo,
Me misisse tibi poenitet!

I will follow my comrade fleeing to the stars,
and, at your bidding, let me alone be overwhelmed by the deep waters.
You have the sort of things she said: though hardly mindful of what she did;
this both the Muses forbid, and Modesty itself forbids.
Hence Laura’s spirit is happier: Death flees on every side:
and she too is said to have confessed these things to her sweet suitor.
I was certain of death; thus, thus it pleases to go down beneath the shades
O! may any hour bring me such a death.

22
TO A FRIEND
Gifts, once offered by his own Muses to Tibullus,
I regret to have sent to you!

et fateor!
Captus amore pio teneri suavisque Poetae,
Heu! quibus imprudens!

and I confess!
Captured by the pious love of the tender and sweet Poet,
Alas! in what ways imprudent!

auribus ista dedi!
At sceleri nostro parcas, divine Tibulle!
Mitis es ipse, scio, mitis et ille, puto:
Et veniam nostrae dabit ob tua carmina culpae;
Sustinuit nunquam surdus abire prece.

I gave ear to those things!
But spare our crime, divine Tibullus!
You yourself are gentle, I know, and he too is gentle, I think:
And he will grant pardon to our fault on account of your songs;
He has never endured to go away deaf to a prayer.

Abnuis, O B**! tandem abnuis? ora serenet
Illa memor nostri mens, solitusque favor.
Sic tibi sint docti, velut usque fuere, Sodales,
Sic vacuum libris chara Camaena vocet.

Do you refuse, O B**! do you at last refuse? May that mind mindful of us, and your wonted favor, make your face serene.
So may learned companions be yours, as they have ever been;
So may the dear Muse call you free for books.

Sic tibi sit Nemesis, tibi Delia, cumque recedit
Lux, agitet mollem blanda Neaera sinum.

XXIII
IN OBITUM DAGOBERTI DUCIS:
QUI, PYRENAEIS IN MONTIBUS, VICTOR OCCUBUIT.
Dum tua Pyrene castrum caput aere velat,
Dum latus ad niveum plurima Nympha salit:
Laetaque caerulâ dum Sequana labitur undâ,
Et Rhodanus rapidas in mare volvit aquas:
Semper honos Dagoberte tuus laudesque manebunt,
O patriae vindex! O columen patriae!

XXIV
AD GALLIAM,
GERMANIS
ALIISQUE VICTIS HOSTIBUS
Gallia!

So may Nemesis be yours, and Delia be yours; and when
Light withdraws, may coaxing Neaera stir her soft lap.

23
ON THE DEATH OF DUKE DAGOBERT:
WHO, IN THE PYRENEAN MOUNTAINS, FELL AS A VICTOR.
While your Pyrenean fortress veils its head in the air,
While full many a Nymph leaps to the snowy flank:
And while the Seine glides joyful with cerulean wave,
And the Rhone rolls his rapid waters into the sea:
Your honor, Dagobert, and your praises will remain forever,
O avenger of the fatherland! O pillar of the fatherland!

24
TO GAUL,
THE GERMANS
AND OTHER ENEMIES CONQUERED
Gaul!

libertate ardens, et lassa triumphis,
Intrepidâ vibras tela tremenda manu.
Scilicet agnoscunt iam iam tua iura tyranni,
Et reboant vinctae sub pedibus Furiae.
En! iterumque vocas ad pectora mitia natos,
Multa dolens veteres deseruisse Lares:
Ecce simul, belli laetata recedere fluctus,
Florifero properat Copia pulchra sinu.

burning with liberty, and wearied by triumphs,
you brandish tremendous weapons with an intrepid hand.
surely now at last the tyrants acknowledge your rights,
and the bound Furies echo back beneath your feet.
Lo! and again you call your sons to your gentle breast,
grieving much that they have forsaken the ancient Lares:
see, at the same time—glad that the waves of war recede—
fair Copia hastens with a flower-bearing bosom.

Sic ubi proruerint ignotis montibus imbres,
Undique Memphiacis expatiantur agris:
Flava Ceres atri sequitur vestigia Nili,
Et Iocus, et Risus, et Charites, et Amor.

XXV
Quid prohibet fortes cantu celebrare Britannos,
Cum mihi sint vires? dulcis Amice! rogas.
Vellem equidem fortes cantu celebrare Britannos,
Et licet, at fidos non celebrare licet.

Thus, when showers have rushed down from unknown mountains,
on every side they spread out over the Memphian fields:
golden Ceres follows the black footsteps of the Nile,
and Jest, and Laughter, and the Charites, and Love.

25
What forbids the brave Britons to be celebrated in song,
since I have strength? sweet Friend! you ask.
I would indeed wish to celebrate the brave Britons in song,
and it is permitted, but to celebrate the faithful is not permitted.

Si facerem certe gelidus tacitusque iacebo,
At non interea Fama tacebit anus
Audirem e tenebris ubi respondere vetamur,
Et Fidei questus, et probra Iustitiae.

XXVI
DE MASONIS
MUSAEO
Unus Alexandrum depingere novit Apelles,
Unus et amissum flere Maso Popium.

XXVII
Iam video modica saltem me laude mereri;
Ecce! meum Bavius carpere coepit opus.

XXVIII
Graecule!

If I should do it, surely gelid and silent I shall lie,
But meanwhile Fame, the old crone, will not be silent.
I would hear from the darkness, where we are forbidden to respond,
both the complaints of Faith, and the opprobria of Justice.

26
OF MASON'S
MUSEUM
One man, Apelles, knew how to depict Alexander,
and one man, Maso, to weep for lost Popius.

27
Now I see that I merit at least modest praise;
Behold! my Bavius has begun to carp at my work.

28
Little Greek!

cum solito tua tristior ira videtur,
Crede mihi, solito tum minus illa nocet,
Sic, ubi saevit Hyems canos fine more per agros,
Omnia tunc ipsâ sub nive tuta iacent.

XXIX
IN MORTEM ANUS
GARRULAE ET INDOMITAE
Cuius erat tam dira diu violentia linguae,
Ferrea nunc olli comprimit ora quies:
Sed tumulum vespae male grato murmure complent,
Quaerit et hinc pullis garrula pica cibum.

XXX
DE PUERO
QUI FULMINE CAPTOS OCCULIS ESSET.
EX HISPANICA
Blande puer! certe tibi missa Tonantis ab arce
Abstulerunt oculis fulgura fausta diem.
Caecus es: at melius tibi fors versatur Amoris
Quam nimium pulchri Liriopeiadis.

when your anger seems more sad than its wont,
believe me, then it harms less than its wont;
thus, when Winter rages hoary beyond all custom throughout the fields,
all things then lie safe beneath the snow itself.

29
ON THE DEATH OF A GARRULOUS AND UNTAMED OLD WOMAN

whose violence of tongue was so dire for so long,
iron quiet now compresses her mouth:
but wasps fill the tomb with an ill-pleasing murmur,
and from here the chattering magpie seeks food for her chicks.

30
OF THE BOY
WHO HAD HIS EYES STRUCK BY LIGHTNING.
FROM THE SPANISH
winsome boy! surely the bolts sent to you from the Thunderer’s citadel
have taken the day from your eyes with auspicious lightning.
you are blind: but the Fortune of Love turns out better for you
than for the too-beautiful son of Liriope.

XXXI
AD LAURAM
Dum, malesuada! mihi tua candida pectora praebes,
Me ferus in rapido vortice volvit Amor.
Aequora non secus in puppim surgentia candent,
Non secus intereâ Nauta perire timet.

XXXI
TO LAURA
While, baleful persuader! you offer to me your fair bosom,
fierce Love rolls me in a rapid vortex.
The seas, rising onto the stern, whiten no otherwise,
no otherwise meanwhile does the Sailor fear to perish.

Nos, qui talia vidimus, potimur
Vitae muneribus, cupiditatum
Expertes; tamen est quod haud Silebo,
Et quo se mea Musa praedicabit
Faustam non habet, aut cupit, Patronum.

We, who have seen such things, enjoy
the gifts of life, free of cupidity;
yet there is something I will not be Silent about,
and by this my Muse will proclaim herself:
she does not have, nor does she desire, an Auspicious Patron.

Here, those whom the kindly care of the temple concerns,
they shine with banquets and swell with wine:
Here, those whom the purple, delegated by the plebs, clothes,
in the morning frequently salute this man;
and they creep in silently, and they nod
the head submissively, and they bend to the pavement
the trembling knee: in rank goes before
- So submissive, silent, and trembling, the importunate crowd
of Chamberlains.

Felices! quibus, inter haec, dedistis
Et servare fidem et tenere risus.

Happy are they! to whom, amid these things, you have granted
both to preserve faith and to retain laughter.

Novisti graviter, Cachiste! Musas
Iniustum exilium meum tulisse:
Novisti graviter, Cachiste! Musas
Hoc a tempore strenuis iambis,
Alcaeive sonantibus flagellis
Gravisas tua verberare terga.

You know full well, Cachiste! that the Muses
have borne my unjust exile:
You know full well, Cachiste! that the Muses
from this time with strenuous iambs,
and with the sonorous scourges of Alcaeus,
will lash your weight‑laden back.

Paulisper maneas, amabo! amabo!
Iambo pede fessus ut recumbem,
Tunc mittam tibi carmen hac ab ulmo.

Stay a little while, please! please!
so that, weary with the iambic foot, I may lie down,
Then I will send you a poem from this elm.

Seu, distorta morosiore vultu,
Quaerat materiem novam querelae,
Tu das materiem novam querelae.
Tum, si forte facetiis adornat
Carmen quod rabida inchoârit Ira,
Subridet: velut inquiere vates
Emersam Venerem mari, columbis
Iunctis ante vehentibusque concham.

Whether, with a more peevish visage distorted,
she seeks new matter for complaint,
you give new matter for complaint.
Then, if by chance she adorns with facetiae
a song which rabid Anger has begun,
she smiles: just as the vates declare
Venus emerged from the sea, with doves
yoked in front and conveying the conch.

Infelix puer! imminente letho,
Expectant male te tui parentes!
Et lactata puella spe, lacertis
Heu!

Unhappy boy! with imminent death,
Your parents ill expect you!
And the girl, beguiled with hope, with her arms
Alas!

inanibus, heu! vacante lecto,
Dulci se tibi somnio volutat.
O crudelia bella!

in emptiness, alas! with the bed vacant,
In a sweet dream she turns herself to you.
O cruel wars!

mane clamat,
Ter crudelia! vos enim abstulistis
Illum quem mihi blanda Nox reducit
Et gaudens tenebris Amor: tamen Mors
Hoc a pectore bella nil valetis!
Tam charum caput una dimovebit.

in the morning she cries,
Thrice cruel! for you have taken away
him whom flattering Night brings back to me,
and Love rejoicing in the shadows: yet, Death—
from this breast wars—you avail nothing!
So dear a head one alone will dislodge.

Hanc Afrae similem puto volucri
Quae, cum protulit ora, mandat actae
Et Phaebi radiis; deinde pullos
Crudos, non reditura, derelinquit.

I deem her like to the African bird
who, when she has brought forth her eggs, entrusts them
to the day as it wears on and to Phoebus’ rays; then her chicks
raw, not to return, she abandons.

Rideo, sperno, rabidum Cachistum:
Hei mihi! semper brevis ille risus!
Currui adsigo Scelus, at molestat
Cura triumphum.

I laugh, I spurn the rabid Cachistus:
Alas for me! that laughter is always brief!
I fasten Crime to the chariot, but
Care troubles the triumph.

Heu iuventutis reditura nunquam
Gaudia! infestâ mihi dempta dextrâ;
Innocens risus, agilesque ludi,
Laetaque frontis.

Alas, joys of youth never to return!
taken from me by a hostile right hand;
innocent laughter, and agile games,
and the cheerful brow.

Pila, trans aulam validis lacertis
Acta non crebro resonat; nec aura
Fert citum binis peditum catervis
Altius orbem

The ball, across the hall, driven by strong arms,
does not often resound; nor does the breeze
bear the swift orb with two cohorts of footmen
higher.

Non leves, aptae stabilire foedus
Mutuum, rixae; nec operta stratis
Ora, cum longas timidasque ducit
Fabula noctes.

Not slight, apt to stabilize a mutual pact
quarrels; nor faces covered with bedclothes,
when talk draws out
the long and timorous nights.

Haec ego interdum memini, iuvatque
Et dolet; quaedam dolor est voluptas:
Sed parum mitis mea lenta corda
Torquet amaror.

These things I sometimes remember, and it delights
and it pains; in some wise pain is pleasure:
But my slow heart, too little mild,
bitterness torments.

Eia age! abstergam lacrymas; Iacchum
In coronatos cyathos vocabo:
Reddat elapsum catus ille Tempus,
Gaudia reddat.

Come then, up! I will wipe away my tears; I will summon Iacchus
into the crowned cups:
Let that shrewd Time give back what has slipped away,
let it give back joys.

Forsan et dulcem referat Sodalem,
At procul nobis abes, O Sodalis!
Sin minus, primum mea te iubebunt
Vota valere.

Perhaps it may even bring back the sweet Companion,
But you are far from us, O Companion!
If not, first my vows will bid you
fare well.

Aureus donis rabidos tyrannos
Burcus ad coelum tulit, at querelas
Temnit infestas venientis aevi,
Temnit honores.

Golden with gifts, Burcus raised rabid tyrants to the sky; but the complaints
he scorns, hostile from the coming age,
he scorns honors.

Quam potest aurum! male dehonestat
Propter hoc, priscumque genus Senator
Seque, nec canos meminit capillos
Morte minari.

How powerful gold is! it disgracefully dishonors,
On this account, both the pristine lineage and the Senator
and himself; nor does he remember the gray hairs
to be menaced with death.

Ore quam torvo inspicient parentes
Pallidum fortes, ubi mistus umbris
Umbra! per dura tenebrosa Ditis
Regna vagatur.

With how grim a face will his parents gaze
upon him, pallid—the brave one—when, mingled with the shades,
a shade! through the hard, tenebrous realms of Dis
he wanders.

Aeacus nullâ reticet loquelâ;
Nec iacet torpens veluti videtur
Bos, sub aestivi medio diei,
Stratus in herbâ.

Aeacus is reticent in no speech;
Nor does the ox lie torpid, as it seems,
under the midst of the summer day,
Stretched out in the grass.

Ecce! fatalem quatit aequus urnam;
Ecce quam circum miseri ministri.
Stant!

Behold! the impartial one shakes the fatal urn;
Behold, around it the wretched ministers.
Stand!

silet totum nisi quod revolvis
Sisyphe! saxum:

all is silent except that you revolve
Sisyphus! the rock:

Et procul stridor resonat rotarum
Raptus Ixion ubi, tot per annos,
Flevit, et flebit, nimium petisse
Improba vota.

And far away the screech of the wheels resonates
where rapt Ixion, through so many years,
has wept, and will weep, for having sought too much
Wicked vows.

Terra subridet. Pueri, ecce! nymphas
Elicent claris fidibus; Colono
De manu vomer cadit, et lavantur
Brachia rivo.

The earth smiles. Boys, behold! the nymphs
they elicit with clear-sounding lyres; from the farmer
from his hand the plowshare falls, and are bathed
Arms in the stream.

Currit ad campum citus. O Puella
Fausta! cui sese, mediâ sodales
Fronte robustos supereminenti,
Conferet heros.

He runs swiftly to the field. O Fortunate Girl!
to whom, amid comrades, towering in the middle of the front,
the hero will join himself.

Tela deponit violenta miles,
En! et hirsutam galeam corollis
Ornat immistis, sociique visu
Nympha superbit.

He lays down his violent weapons, the soldier,
Lo! and he adorns the hirsute helmet with corollas
intermingled, and at the sight of her associate
Nymph is proud.

Fluctuant flatu Zephyri corollae
Et viri et nymphae simul; alma Cypri
Marsque sic unâ roseis in hortis
Ora gerebant.

The garlands fluctuate in the breath of Zephyr,
And both of the man and the nymph together; thus the kindly Cyprian
And Mars together in rosy gardens
Were bearing their visages.

Illa sublimi volucres in aurâ
Passeres vidit quoties ad aras
Supplicaretur tibi, et annuebas
Blandula votis:

She saw the winged sparrows in the lofty air
whenever at the altars supplication was made to you,
and you, winsome, were nodding assent
to the prayers:

Dulce subridens Dea! Iam Phaontis
Candidae subpurpurei lacerti
Ambiunt collum, ac tepidâ Cupido
Ventilat alâ

Sweetly smiling, Goddess! Now Phaon’s
fair, faintly purpureous upper arms
encircle your neck, and Cupid with a tepid wing
fans you

Iam nec umbrosum Zephyrus recessum
Abnuit molli recreare flatu;
Ille campestris, volitans, videtur
Frater Amoris

Now no longer does Zephyr refuse to refresh the shady recess
with soft breath;
He, campestral, flitting, seems
Brother of Love

Ille dormitos, Dea dura! flores
Suadet amplexum tenerum subire:
Illo et absenti rosa pulchra marcet,
Lilia languent.

He, harsh Goddess! persuades the dormant flowers
to undergo a tender embrace:
with him absent, too, the fair rose withers,
the lilies languish.

Nonne marcesunt, age dic puellae?
Nonne languescunt? iubar his Iuventae
Cur micat, verno nisi lusum eatur
Tempore vitae.

Do they not wither, come, tell, girls?
Do they not languish? Why does the luster of Youth
shine for these, unless one go forth to play
in the vernal season of life.

Dicite: illius mea Musa famam
Phyllidi iunctam mala non tacebit.
Quid loquor? talem haud pharetrata vidit
Diva puellam.

Say: my Muse will not keep silent of that one’s fame,
joined to Phyllis, and of the ills.
What am I saying? Such a girl the quiver-bearing
Goddess has not seen.

Ergo parcetis iterum nocere
Phyllidis nostrae nitido decori,
Invidae Nymphae! neque triste sparget
Lingua venenum.

Therefore you will refrain from harming again
the shining beauty of our Phyllis,
envious Nymphs! nor will the tongue scatter
grim venom.

Insequi mollem dominam, et fugare
A genis illi ambrosium ruborem
Quid valet? nostrae quid inhaesit hasta
Vestra Dione.

To pursue the soft mistress, and to drive away
from her cheeks that ambrosial blush—
what avails it? what spear has stuck fast in our girl
your Dione.

Vos nimis duras satis indicabant
Lumina: immistâ taciturnitate
Laesa defectâ tremula edidit sus-
piria linguâ.

You as too harsh were sufficiently indicated
by her eyes: with taciturnity intermixed
wounded, failing, trembling, it gave forth sus-
pirations by her tongue.

Vos decet nigris adhibere nodum
Crinibus, vestri est Borean vocare
In sinum nudam, et penetrare cornu
Devia sylvae.

You it befits to apply a knot to black tresses,
it is yours to summon Boreas
into your bosom naked, and to penetrate with horn
the byways of the forest.

Vos decet fortes catulos ciere
Per locos crassâ rigidos pruinâ,
Mane ubi nondum radiante gemmae
Sole liquescunt.

It befits you to rouse the stout hounds
through places rigid with thick frost,
in the morning when as yet the gems do not liquefy
beneath the radiant Sun.

Illa per suaves adytus rosarum
Mitis incedet, modulosque avenae
Et levem cantum aeria insusurret
Filia vocis.

She will advance gently through the sweet adyta of roses
and the modulations of the oaten reed,
and the airy Daughter of Voice will whisper
a light song.

Inde Livoris digito notari
Tuta vitabit: prece nil ad aras
Adpetens, lectis Veneri sacellum
Floribus ornet.

Then, safe, she will avoid being marked by the finger of Envy:
seeking nothing at the altars by prayer,
let her adorn for Venus a little sacellum
with chosen flowers.

Verum ubi diripior? versus, quem libera dictat
Mens mea, lene fluat; nam cor dabit absque Camaenâ.
At vocor; en! sonipes ut fraena lupata remordet.
Iamque vale.

But where am I being torn? let the verse, which my free
mind dictates, flow softly; for the heart will give without the Camena.
But I am called; lo! how the steed with sounding hoof champs the wolf-toothed bit.
And now, farewell.

His abeuns a sedibus, alta reviso
Tecta ubi Bacchus adest, Bacchoque beatior Hospes.
Illic, plena tuum ut sacrarunt pocula nomen,
Tum chari oblitus fio paulisper amici.

Departing from these seats, I revisit the lofty roofs
where Bacchus is present, and the Host more blessed by Bacchus.
There, as the brimming cups have consecrated your name,
then I become for a little while oblivious of my dear friend.

Aspice, conigerae nutant ut in aere pinus,
Subter, ut aureolis laeta genista comis!
Insula! tu mihi surgis; ego te saepe solebam
Cingere flore capri, te decorare rosis!

Look, how the cone-bearing pines nod in the air,
Beneath, how the broom rejoices with little golden tresses!
Island! you rise for me; I often used
To gird you with the caper-flower, to adorn you with roses!

Ambit et hos flores, fine nomine, parvula Nympha,
Nympha sub ardenti mox peritura Cane.
Illius in ripâ quoties sub vespere sedi,
Compingens lyricis anxia verba modis!
Forsitan aut calamo liquidas Elegeia voces
Leniter inflaret, forsitan aptus Amor.

A tiny Nymph, without a name, also circles these flowers,
a Nymph soon to perish beneath the ardent Dog. How often on her bank at evening I sat,
anxiously piecing words to lyric modes! Perhaps either Elegy with the reed would softly blow forth liquid voices,
or perhaps apt Love.

Ista diu periere; diu si dicere fas est,
Cum iam bis novies haud mihi venit hyems
At sero linquant puerilia tempora mentem
Quae nisi cum gemitu nec reputare licet.

Those things have long perished—long, if it is right to say so,
since as yet twice nine winters have not come upon me
But let boyish times leave the mind late—
which it is not permitted to reckon over except with a groan.

Alone, rolling Cupid-ine cares beneath her breast,
Laura resolved to perish for the perfidious man.
Lately Phoebus had descended into the Hesperian waves,
The vapor had begun to rise from the tepid valley:
The tawny cows had left the milking-pails full,
And the long shadow terrified the gnashing dog.
And now the Maiden had filled all with wandering laments,
When, late, she hears the various birds through the grove.

Ingreditur: non illa petit lenimina luctus,
Corde sed e tristi talia verba ruunt.
Vae! quousque viro sic temnar?

She enters: she does not seek lenitives of grief,
but from a sad heart such words rush forth.
Alas! how long shall I be thus scorned by the man?

inultaque temnar?
Debuerat potius quod licet ille mori!
Ulmo a procerâ suspendar , inutile pondus,
Hei mihi!

and be despised unavenged?
He should rather, since it is permitted, die!
Let me be hanged from a tall elm , a useless weight,
Alas for me!

vel rapidis obruta mergar aquis?
Obruta merga aquis? eheu!

or, overwhelmed, shall I be submerged by rapid waters?
Overwhelmed, shall I be submerged by the waters? alas!

fortasse sepulchrum
Non erit, et nullo carmine nota tegar.
Talia dicebat, cum linquens Tityrus umbram
Ecce puellares sternitur ante pedes.
Anne decet lacrymis madefiant Virginis ora,
Illa ora, illa novâ candidiora nive.

perhaps a sepulchre
Will not be, and I shall be covered, with no note of song.
Such things he was saying, when, leaving Tityrus’s shade,
Lo, a maiden is laid down before his feet.
Or does it befit that the Virgin’s features be moistened with tears,
those features, those, brighter than new snow.

O! mea nectareas abstergant basia guttas
Morte ferâ debet virgo tenella mori?
Suspendare? sequar fugientis ad astra sodalis,
Teque iubente altis obruar unus aquis.

O! may my nectareous kisses wipe away the drops
Ought the tender virgin to die by savage death?
Am I to be hanged? Shall I follow my companion fleeing to the stars,
and, at your bidding, let me alone be overwhelmed by the deep waters.

Qualia dixit habes: licet haud memore quid egit;
Hoc Musaeque vetant, et vetat ipse Pudor.
Laetior hinc animus Laurae: Mors undique fugit:
Fertur et haec dulci fassa fuisse proco.
Certa fui lethi; sic, sic iuvat ire sub umbras
O! mihi talem obitum quaelibet hora ferat.

Such things as he said you have: although I am hardly mindful of what he did;
This the Muses forbid, and Modesty himself forbids.
Happier hence is Laura’s spirit: Death flees on every side:
She too is said to have confessed these things to her sweet suitor.
I was certain of death; thus, thus it pleases to go beneath the shades
O! may any hour bring me such a death.