Nemesianus: ECLOGAE

"Dum fiscella tibi fluviali, Tityre, iunco
texitur et raucis immunia rura cicadis,
incipe, si quod habes gracili sub harundine carmen
compositum. Nam te calamos inflare labello
Pan docuit versuque bonus tibi favit Apollo.
Incipe, dum salices haedi, dum gramina vaccae
detondent, viridique greges permittere campo
dum ros et primi suadet clementia solis.

"While for you, Tityrus, a little basket is being woven of fluvial rush,
and the fields are free from hoarse cicadas,
begin, if you have any song composed beneath the slender reed.
For Pan taught you to blow the reeds with your little lip,
and good Apollo favored you in verse.
Begin, while the kids browse the willows, while the cows crop the grasses,
and to let the flocks range the green field,
while the dew and the mildness of the first sun urge.

TITYRVS

TITYRUS

Hos annos canamque comam, vicine Thymoeta,
tu iuvenis carusque deis in carmina cogis?
Diximus et calamis versus cantavimus olim,
dum secura hilares aetas ludebat amores.
Nunc album caput et veneres tepuere sub annis;
iam mea ruricolae dependet fistula Fauno.

Shall I sing these years and my gray hair, neighbor Thymoeta,
you, a youth and dear to the gods, do you drive me into songs?
We have spoken, and with reeds we once sang verses,
while a carefree age played at loves.
Now the head is white, and the charms have grown tepid under the years;
now my pipe hangs for the country-dwelling Faunus.

Te nunc rura sonant; nuper nam carmine victor
risisti calamos et dissona flamina Mopsi
iudice me: mecum senior Meliboeus utrumque
audierat laudesque tuas sublime ferebat.
Quem nunc emeritae permensum tempora vitae
secreti pars orbis habet mundusque piorum.
Quare age, si qua tibi Meliboei gratia vivit,
dicat honoratos praedulcis tibia manes.

Now the countryside resounds with you; for recently, as victor in song,
you laughed to scorn the reeds and the dissonant blasts of Mopsus,
I as judge: with me the elder Meliboeus had heard you both,
and was bearing your praises on high.
Him now, his spans of a merited life measured out,
a part of the secret orb holds, and the world of the pious.
Therefore come, if any favor of Meliboeus lives for you,
let your honey-sweet pipe address the honored shades.

THYMOETAS

Et parere decet iussis et grata iubentur.
Namque fuit dignus senior, quem carmine Phoebus,
Pan calamis, fidibus Linus aut Oeagrius Orpheus
concinerent totque acta viri laudesque sonarent.
Sed quia tu nostrae laudem deposcis avenae,
accipe quae super haec cerasus, quam cernis ad amnem
continet, inciso servans mea carmina libro.

And it is proper to obey orders, and welcome things are enjoined.
For there was an elder worthy, whom with song Phoebus,
Pan with reeds, Linus with strings, or Oeagrian Orpheus
might sing together, and so many deeds of the man and his praises might resound.
But since you demand the praise of our oaten pipe,
receive what beyond these the cherry tree, which you see by the stream,
contains, preserving my songs on its incised bark.

TITYRVS

TITYRUS

Dic age; sed nobis ne vento garrula pinus
obstrepat, has ulmos potius fagosque petamus.

Say, come; but lest the garrulous pine be obstreperous to us with the wind,
let us rather seek these elms and beeches.

THYMOETAS

Hic cantare libet: virides nam subicit herbas
mollis ager lateque tacet nemus omne; quieti
aspice ut ecce procul decerpant gramina tauri
Omniparens aether et rerum causa, liquores,
corporis et genetrix tellus, vitalis et aer,
accipite hos cantus atque haec nostro Meliboeo
mittite, si sentire datur post fata quietis.
Nam si sublimes animae caelestia templa
sidereasque colunt sedes mundoque fruuntur,
tu nostros adverte modos, quos ipse benigno
pectore fovisti, quos tu, Meliboee, probasti.
Longa tibi cunctisque diu spectata senectus
felicesque anni nostrique novissimus aevi
circulus innocuae clauserunt tempora vitae.

Here it is sweet to sing: for the soft field puts forth green grasses and the whole grove is widely silent; behold, for quiet, how, see there, far off the bulls pluck the grasses. Omniparent Aether and the cause of things, the liquors, and the earth, genetrix of the body, and the vital air, receive these songs and send these to our Meliboeus, if it is granted to feel after the quiet of the fates.
For if lofty souls inhabit the heavenly temples and starry seats and enjoy the world, you turn your attention to our modes, which you yourself with a benign breast cherished, which you, Meliboeus, approved.
A long old age for you, long beheld by all, and happy years, and the last circle of our age have closed the times of an innocuous life.

Nec minus hinc nobis gemitus lacrimaeque fuere,
quam si florentes mors invida carperet annos,
nec tenuit tales communis causa querelas.
Heu, Meliboee, iaces mortali frigore segnis
lege hominum, caelo dignus canente senecta
concilioque deum. Plenum tibi ponderis aequi
pectus erat.

Nor were groans and tears for us from this any less,
than if envious death were plucking our blooming years,
nor did the common cause hold back such laments.
Alas, Meliboeus, you lie inert with mortal cold
by the law of men, worthy of heaven, with a singing old age,
and of the council of the gods. Your breast was full of equitable weight.

Tu ruricolum discernere lites
assueras, varias patiens mulcendo querelas.
Sub te ruris amor, sub te reverentia iuris
floruit, ambiguos signavit terminus agros.
Blanda tibi vultu gravitas et mite serena
fronte supercilium, sed pectus mitius ore.

You had been accustomed to discern the disputes of the countryfolk
being patient in soothing various complaints.
Under you the love of the countryside, under you the reverence of law
flourished; the terminus marked the disputed fields.
A winning gravitas was yours in countenance, and a gentle brow serene,
but a heart gentler than your speech.

Tu, calamos aptare labris et iungere cera
hortatus, duras docuisti fallere curas.
Nec segnem passus nobis marcere iuventam
saepe dabas meritae non vilia praemia musae.
Saepe etiam senior, ne nos cantare pigeret,
laetus Phoebea dixisti carmen avena.

You, having urged to fit reeds to the lips and to join them with wax,
taught us to beguile hard cares.
Nor did you allow our youth to wither sluggish;
often you gave not cheap rewards to the deserving Muse.
Often even as a senior, lest we be slow to sing,
gladly you sang a song with the Phoebean oaten reed.

Felix o Meliboee, vale! Tibi frondis odorae
munera dat lauros carpens ruralis Apollo;
dant Fauni quod quisque valet, de vite racemos,
de messi culmos omnique ex arbore fruges;
dat grandaeva Pales spumantia cymbia lacte,
mella ferunt Nymphae, pictas dat Flora coronas.
Manibus hic supremus honor: dant carmina Musae,
carmina dant Musae, nos et modulamur avena.

Happy, O Meliboeus, farewell! To you Rural Apollo, plucking laurels, gives the gifts of fragrant frondage;
the Fauns give what each is able, racemes from the vine,
stalks from the harvest, and fruits from every tree;
aged Pales gives bowls foaming with milk,
the Nymphs bear honeys, Flora gives painted garlands.
Here the supreme honor to the Manes: the Muses give songs,
the Muses give songs, and we too modulate on the oaten reed.

Silvestris te nunc platanus, Meliboee, susurrat,
te pinus; reboat te quidquid carminis echo
respondet silvae; te nostra armenta loquuntur.
Namque prius siccis phocae pascentur in arvis
vestitusque freto vivet leo, dulcia mella
sudabunt taxi, confusis legibus anni
messem tristis hiems, aestas tractabit olivam,
ante dabit flores autumnus, ver dabit uvas,
quam taceat, Meliboee, tuas mea fistula laudes.

The sylvan plane-tree now whispers of you, Meliboee, the pine of you; whatever echo of song the forest answers re-echoes you; our herds speak of you.
For sooner will seals graze on dry fields, and a lion, clad with the sea, live; the yews will sweat sweet honey; with the laws of the year confounded, grim winter will reap the harvest, summer will handle the olive;
autumn will give flowers first, spring will give grapes, than my reed-pipe be silent of your praises, Meliboee.

TITYRVS

TITYRUS

Perge puer, coeptumque tibi ne desere carmen.
Nam sic dulce sonas ut te placatus Apollo
provehat et felix dominam perducat in urbem.
Iamque hic in silvis praesens tibi Fama benignum
stravit iter, rumpens livoris nubila pinnis.

Go on, boy, and do not desert the song you have begun.
For thus sweetly you sound that appeased Apollo may convey you forward and may lead your fortunate lady into the city.
And now here in the woods, present for you, Rumor/Fame has strown a benign path,
breaking the clouds of envy with her wings.

Sed iam Sol demittit equos de culmine mundi,
fulmineos suadens gregibus praebere liquores".

But now the Sun lets down his horses from the summit of the world,
urging that sparkling waters be offered to the herds".