Ovid: AMORES

Stat vetus et multos incaedua silva per annos;
    credibile est illi numen inesse loco.
fons sacer in medio speluncaque pumice pendens,
    et latere ex omni dulce queruntur aves.
Hic ego dum spatior tectus nemoralibus umbris —
    quod mea, quaerebam, Musa moveret opus —
venit odoratos Elegia nexa capillos,
    et, puto, pes illi longior alter erat.

There stands an ancient forest, uncut through many years;
    it is believable that a numen dwells in that place.
a sacred spring is in the midst, and a grotto hung with pumice-stone,
    and from every side the birds sweetly complain.
Here I, while I stroll, covered by woodland shades —
    what work, I was seeking, my Muse would set in motion —
Elegy came, her perfumed hair bound up,
    and, I think, one foot of hers was longer than the other.

forma decens, vestis tenuissima, vultus amantis,
    et pedibus vitium causa decoris erat.
venit et ingenti violenta Tragoedia passu:
    fronte comae torva, palla iacebat humi;
laeva manus sceptrum late regale movebat,
    Lydius alta pedum vincla cothurnus erat.
Et prior 'ecquis erit,' dixit, 'tibi finis amandi,
    O argumenti lente poeta tui?

a comely form, a most thin garment, a lover’s face,
    and a defect in her feet was a cause of grace.
and violent Tragedy too came with a huge stride:
    grim were the locks on her brow, her mantle lay on the ground;
her left hand moved a regal scepter far and wide,
    the Lydian cothurnus was the high binding of the feet.
And first she said, ‘Will there be any end for you of loving,
    O slow poet of your argument?’

nequitiam vinosa tuam convivia narrant,
    narrant in multas conpita secta vias.
saepe aliquis digito vatem designat euntem,
    atque ait "hic, hic est, quem ferus urit Amor!"
fabula, nec sentis, tota iactaris in urbe,
    dum tua praeterito facta pudore refers.
tempus erat, thyrso pulsum graviore moveri;
    cessatum satis est — incipe maius opus!

Your knavery is narrated by your wine-soaked convivials,
    they narrate it at crossroads carved into many ways.
often someone designates the bard with a finger as he goes,
    and says, "here, here is the one whom fierce Love burns!"
you are bandied about as a tale through the whole city, and you do not sense it,
    while you relate your deeds with shame passed over.
it was time to be moved, struck by a heavier thyrsus;
    there has been idling enough — begin a greater work!

materia premis ingenium. cane facta virorum.
"haec animo," dices, "area facta meo est!"
quod tenerae cantent, lusit tua Musa, puellae,
primaque per numeros acta iuventa suos.

you constrain your genius with the material. sing the deeds of men.
"this," you will say, "has been made an area for my mind!"
what tender girls might sing, your Muse has played with,
and your earliest youth has been performed through its own numbers.

nunc habeam per te Romana Tragoedia nomen!
    inplebit leges spiritus iste meas.'
Hactenus, et movit pictis innixa cothurnis
    densum caesarie terque quaterque caput.
altera, si memini, limis subrisit ocellis —
    fallor, an in dextra myrtea virga fuit?

now let me, Roman Tragedy, have a name through you!
    this spirit will fulfill my laws.'
So far; and, leaning on painted buskins,
    she moved her head, thick with hair, thrice and four times.
the other, if I remember, smiled with sidelong little eyes —
    am I mistaken, or was there a myrtle wand in her right hand?

'Quid gravibus verbis, animosa Tragoedia,' dixit,
'me premis? an numquam non gravis esse potes?
inparibus tamen es numeris dignata moveri;
in me pugnasti versibus usa meis.

'Why with grave words, spirited Tragedy,' she said,
'do you press me? Or can you never be not grave?
nevertheless you have deigned to be moved by unequal meters;
against me you have fought, using my verses.

non ego contulerim sublimia carmina nostris;
    obruit exiguas regia vestra fores.
sum levis, et mecum levis est, mea cura, Cupido;
    non sum materia fortior ipsa mea.
rustica sit sine me lascivi mater Amoris;
    huic ego proveni lena comesque deae.

I would not compare the sublime songs with my own;
    your royal palace overwhelms my exiguous doors.
I am light, and light with me is my concern, Cupid;
    I am not material stronger than my very subject-matter.
Let the mother of wanton Love be rustic without me;
    for this goddess I appear as a procuress and companion.

quam tu non poteris duro reserare cothurno,
    haec est blanditiis ianua laxa meis;
et tamen emerui plus quam tu posse, ferendo
    multa supercilio non patienda tuo.
per me decepto didicit custode Corinna
    liminis adstricti sollicitare fidem,
delabique toro tunica velata soluta
     atque inpercussos nocte movere pedes.
a quotiens foribus duris infixa pependi,
    non verita a populo praetereunte legi!

which you will not be able to unbolt with your hard cothurnus,
    this is a door loosened by my blandishments;
and yet I have earned to be able more than you, by bearing
    many things not to be borne by your supercilious brow.
through me, the guard deceived, Corinna has learned
    to tamper with the fidelity of a tightened threshold,
and to slip down from the couch, veiled in a loosened tunic,
    and to move unstruck feet at night.
ah, how often I hung fixed to the hard doors,
    not fearing to be read by the passing populace!

quin ego me memini, dum custos saevus abiret,
    ancillae miseram delituisse sinu.
quid, cum me munus natali mittis, at illa
    rumpit et adposita barbara mersat aqua?
prima tuae movi felicia semina mentis;
    munus habes, quod te iam petit ista, meum.'
Desierat.

indeed I remember that, while the savage guard was going away,
    I, wretched, hid in the maidservant’s bosom.
what of when you send me a birthday gift, and that woman
    breaks it and, with barbarian water added, immerses it?
I first stirred the happy seeds of your mind;
    you have a gift—what that one now seeks of you is mine.'
She had ceased.

coepi: 'per vos utramque rogamus,
    in vacuas aures verba timentis eant.
altera me sceptro decoras altoque cothurno;
    iam nunc contacto magnus in ore sonus.
altera das nostro victurum nomen amori —
    ergo ades et longis versibus adde brevis!

I began: 'by you both we ask,
    let the words of the afraid one go into empty ears.
the one adorns me with scepter and with the high cothurnus;
    even now, at the touch, a great sound is on my mouth.
the other gives to our love a name that will live —
    therefore be present and to long verses add the short!'

exiguum vati concede, Tragoedia, tempus!
tu labor aeternus; quod petit illa, breve est.'
Mota dedit veniam — teneri properentur Amores,
dum vacat; a tergo grandius urguet opus!

Grant a small time to the poet, Tragedy!
you are an eternal labor; what she asks is brief.'
Moved, she granted leave — let the tender Loves be hastened,
while there is leisure; from behind a grander work presses!

'Non ego nobilium sedeo studiosus equorum;
    cui tamen ipsa faves, vincat ut ille, precor.
ut loquerer tecum veni, tecumque sederem,
    ne tibi non notus, quem facis, esset amor.
tu cursus spectas, ego te; spectemus uterque
    quod iuvat, atque oculos pascat uterque suos.

'Not do I sit as a devotee of noble horses;
    to whom, however, you yourself show favor, I pray that he may win.
so that I might speak with you I came, and sit with you,
    lest the love which you bring about be unknown to you.
you watch the races, I watch you; let each of us behold
    what pleases, and let each feed his own eyes.

O, cuicumque faves, felix agitator equorum!
    ergo illi curae contigit esse tuae?
hoc mihi contingat, sacro de carcere missis
    insistam forti mente vehendus equis,
et modo lora dabo, modo verbere terga notabo,
    nunc stringam metas interiore rota.

O, whoever you favor, happy driver of horses!
    so has it fallen to him to be your care?
let this befall me: when, from the sacred starting-gate, they are released,
    I shall plant myself with stout mind, to be borne by the horses,
and now I will give the reins, now I will mark their backs with the lash,
    now I will graze the turning-posts with the inner wheel.

si mihi currenti fueris conspecta, morabor,
deque meis manibus lora remissa fluent.
at quam paene Pelops Pisaea concidit hasta,
dum spectat vultus, Hippodamia, tuos!
nempe favore suae vicit tamen ille puellae.

if, as I am running, you are seen by me, I will delay,
and from my hands the reins, released, will flow.
but how nearly did Pelops fall to the Pisaean spear,
while he gazed upon your face, Hippodamia!
indeed he nevertheless conquered by the favor of his girl.

vincamus dominae quisque favore suae!
Quid frustra refugis? cogit nos linea iungi.

let each of us win by the favor of his mistress!
Why do you flee in vain? the line compels us to be joined.

    haec in lege loci commoda circus habet —
tu tamen a dextra, quicumque es, parce puellae;
    contactu lateris laeditur ista tui.
tu quoque, qui spectas post nos, tua contrahe crura,
    si pudor est, rigido nec preme terga genu!
Sed nimium demissa iacent tibi pallia terra.

    the circus has these conveniences by the law of the place —
yet you, on the right, whoever you are, spare the girl;
    that one is injured by the contact of your side.
you too, who watch behind us, draw in your legs,
    if you have modesty, and do not press backs with a rigid knee!
But your cloaks, let down too far, lie on the earth.

    collige — vel digitis en ego tollo meis!
invida vestis eras, quae tam bona crura tegebas;
    quoque magis spectes — invida vestis eras!
talia Milanion Atalantes crura fugacis
    optavit manibus sustinuisse suis.

    gather it up — or lo, I lift it with my own fingers!
you were an envious garment, that covered such fine legs;
    and that you may look the more — you were an envious garment!
such legs Milanion desired of fleet-footed Atalanta
    to have upheld with his own hands.

talia pinguntur succinctae crura Dianae
cum sequitur fortes, fortior ipsa, feras.
his ego non visis arsi; quid fiet ab ipsis?
in flammam flammas, in mare fundis aquas.

such legs are depicted of girded Diana
when she pursues strong—herself stronger—beasts.
at these, though unseen, I burned; what will happen from the originals?
you pour flames into flame, waters into the sea.

suspicor ex istis et cetera posse placere,
quae bene sub tenui condita veste latent.
Vis tamen interea faciles arcessere ventos?
quos faciet nostra mota tabella manu.

I suspect from these that the rest too can please,
which lie well concealed beneath a thin garment.
Do you wish, however, meanwhile to summon compliant winds?
which my little fan, moved by my hand, will make.

an magis hic meus est animi, non aeris aestus,
captaque femineus pectora torret amor?
dum loquor, alba levi sparsa est tibi pulvere vestis.
sordide de niveo corpore pulvis abi!

or is this more my heat of spirit, not of air,
and does feminine love scorch my captured breast?
while I speak, your white garment has been sprinkled with light dust.
filthy dust, begone from the snow-white body!

Sed iam pompa venit — linguis animisque favete!
tempus adest plausus — aurea pompa venit.
prima loco fertur passis Victoria pinnis —
huc ades et meus hic fac, dea, vincat amor!

But now the procession comes — be favorable with tongues and minds!
the time for applause is at hand — the golden procession comes.
first in place is borne Victory with outspread wings —
come here, and make it that here my love may conquer, goddess!

plaudite Neptuno, nimium qui creditis undis!
nil mihi cum pelago; me mea terra capit.
plaude tuo Marti, miles!

applaud Neptune, you who credit the waves too much!
nothing to do for me with the sea; my own earth takes me in.
applaud your Mars, soldier!

nos odimus arma;
pax iuvat et media pace repertus amor.
auguribus Phoebus, Phoebe venantibus adsit!
artifices in te verte, Minerva, manus!

we hate arms;
peace delights, and love discovered in the midst of peace.
may Phoebus be present to the augurs, Phoebe to the hunters!
turn the hands of artificers toward you, Minerva!

ruricolae, Cereri teneroque adsurgite Baccho!
Pollucem pugiles, Castora placet eques!
nos tibi, blanda Venus, puerisque potentibus arcu
plaudimus; inceptis adnue, diva, meis
daque novae mentem dominae!

country-dwellers, rise in honor to Ceres and to tender Bacchus!
Pugilists, to Pollux; the horseman is pleased with Castor!
we to you, coaxing Venus, and to the boys powerful with the bow
applaud; assent to my undertakings, goddess,
and give a mind to the new mistress!

patiatur amari!
adnuit et motu signa secunda dedit.
quod dea promisit, promittas ipsa, rogamus;
pace loquar Veneris, tu dea maior eris.

let her allow herself to be loved!
she nodded and by a motion gave favorable signs.
what the goddess promised, do you yourself promise, we ask;
with Venus’s leave I will speak: you will be the greater goddess.

per tibi tot iuro testes pompamque deorum,
te dominam nobis tempus in omne peti!
Sed pendent tibi crura. potes, si forte iuvabit,
cancellis primos inseruisse pedes.

I swear to you by so many witnesses and the pomp of the gods,
that you are to be sought by me as mistress for all time!
But your legs are hanging; you can, if perhaps it will please,
have inserted your foremost feet in the lattice-bars.

maxima iam vacuo praetor spectacula circo
quadriiugos aequo carcere misit equos.
cui studeas, video. vincet, cuicumque favebis.

now the praetor has already set the greatest spectacles in motion in the empty circus
he has sent forth the four-horse teams from the even barrier.
I see whom you support. He will win, whomever you favor.

quid cupias, ipsi scire videntur equi.
me miserum, metam spatioso circuit orbe!
quid facis?

what you desire, the horses themselves seem to know.
alas for me, he rounds the turning-post in a spacious orbit!
what are you doing?

admoto proxumus axe subit.
quid facis, infelix? perdis bona vota puellae.

with the axle brought close, the nearest comes up.
what are you doing, unlucky man? you are ruining the girl’s good vows.

tende, precor, valida lora sinistra manu!
favimus ignavo — sed enim revocate, Quirites,
et date iactatis undique signa togis!
en, revocant!

stretch, I pray, the reins with a strong left hand!
we have favored the sluggard — but indeed call him back, Quirites,
and give signals on every side with togas brandished!
lo, they call him back!

— ac ne turbet toga mota capillos,
in nostros abdas te licet usque sinus.
Iamque patent iterum reserato carcere postes;
evolat admissis discolor agmen equis.
nunc saltem supera spatioque insurge patenti!

— and, lest a moved toga disturb your hair,
you may hide yourself all the way into my lap.
And now the posts stand patent again, the starting-gate unbarred;
out flies the variegated column, the horses let loose.
now at least overcome and surge upon the open course!

sint mea, sint dominae fac rata vota meae!
Sunt dominae rata vota meae, mea vota supersunt.
ille tenet palmam; palma petenda mea est.'
Risit, et argutis quiddam promisit ocellis.

let my vows, let my lady’s—do make them ratified!
My lady’s vows are ratified; my vows remain.
He holds the palm; the palm to be sought is mine.'
She smiled, and with her bright little eyes promised something.

'Hoc satis est, alio cetera redde loco!'

'This is enough; render the rest in another place!'

III

Esse deos, i, crede — fidem iurata fefellit,
    et facies illi, quae fuit ante, manet!
quam longos habuit nondum periura capillos,
     tam longos, postquam numina laesit, habet.
candida candorem roseo suffusa rubore
    ante fuit — niveo lucet in ore rubor.

Go on, believe that there are gods—she, though sworn, has broken faith,
    and her face, the same as it was before, remains!
what long tresses she had, not yet perjured,
    so long she has them, after she offended the divinities.
fair she was before, her whiteness suffused with rosy blush—
    a blush gleams in her snow-white face.

pes erat exiguus — pedis est artissima forma.
longa decensque fuit — longa decensque manet.
argutos habuit — radiant ut sidus ocelli,
per quos mentita est perfida saepe mihi.

her foot was petty — the foot is of the most slender form.
she was tall and comely — tall and comely she remains.
she had bright little eyes — they radiate like a star,
through which the perfidious one often lied to me.

scilicet aeterni falsum iurare puellis
    di quoque concedunt, formaque numen habet.
perque suos illam nuper iurasse recordor
    perque meos oculos: en doluere mei!
Dicite, di, si vos inpune fefellerat illa,
    alterius meriti cur ego damna tuli?

Surely the eternal gods too concede that girls may swear falsely,
    and beauty has a numen.
and I recall that recently she swore by her own eyes
    and by my eyes: lo, mine have ached!
Speak, gods, if she deceived you with impunity,
    why did I bear the damages for another’s merit?

an non invidiae vobis Cepheia virgo est,
    pro male formosa iussa parente mori?
non satis est, quod vos habui sine pondere testis,
    et mecum lusos ridet inulta deos?
ut sua per nostram redimat periuria poenam,
    victima deceptus decipientis ero?

Or is not the Cephean maiden an object of envy to you,
    ordered by her parent to die for being badly-beautiful?
Is it not enough that I had you as witnesses of no weight,
    and unavenged she laughs that the gods were toyed with along with me?
so that she may redeem the penalty of her perjuries at my expense,
    shall I be the victim, deceived by the deceiver?

aut sine re nomen deus est frustraque timetur
    et stulta populos credulitate movet;
aut, siquis deus est, teneras amat ille puellas
    et nimium solas omnia posse iubet.
nobis fatifero Mavors accingitur ense;
    nos petit invicta Palladis hasta manu.
nobis flexibiles curvantur Apollinis arcus;
    in nos alta Iovis dextera fulmen habet.

either god is a name without substance and is feared in vain
    and with foolish credulity moves peoples;
or, if any god exists, he loves tender girls
    and too much he bids that they alone can do all things.
against us Mavors girds himself with a fate-bearing sword;
    us the unconquered spear of Pallas assails by her hand.
for us the flexible bows of Apollo are bent;
    against us the high right hand of Jove holds the thunderbolt.

formosas superi metuunt offendere laesi
atque ultro, quae se non timuere, timent.
et quisquam pia tura focis inponere curat?
certe plus animi debet inesse viris!

the celestials, when wronged, fear to offend the beautiful
and moreover, they fear those who have not feared them.
and does anyone care to place pious incense upon the hearths?
surely more spirit ought to be in men!

Iuppiter igne suo lucos iaculatur et arces
    missaque periuras tela ferire vetat.
tot meruere peti — Semele miserabilis arsit!
    officio est illi poena reperta suo;
at si venturo se subduxisset amanti,
    non pater in Baccho matris haberet opus.

Jupiter hurls with his own fire at groves and citadels
    and forbids the missiles he has sent to strike the perjured.
so many have deserved to be attacked—wretched Semele burned!
    and for that very office of his a penalty was found;
but if she had withdrawn herself from the coming lover,
    the father would not, in the case of Bacchus, have had a mother’s task.

Quid queror et toto facio convicia caelo?
    di quoque habent oculos, di quoque pectus habent!
si deus ipse forem, numen sine fraude liceret
    femina mendaci falleret ore meum;
ipse ego iurarem verum iurare puellas
    et non de tetricis dicerer esse deus.

Why do I complain and hurl invectives at the whole heaven?
    the gods too have eyes, the gods too have a heart!
if I myself were a god, it would be permitted without blame that
    a woman with a mendacious mouth should deceive my divinity;
I myself would swear that maidens swear truly,
    and I would not be said to be a grim god.

tu tamen illorum moderatius utere dono —
aut oculis certe parce, puella, meis!

you, however, use their gift more moderately —
or at least spare my eyes, girl!

Dure vir, inposito tenerae custode puellae
    nil agis; ingenio est quaeque tuenda suo.
siqua metu dempto casta est, ea denique casta est;
    quae, quia non liceat, non facit, illa facit!
ut iam servaris bene corpus, adultera mens est;
    nec custodiri, ne velit, ulla potest.

Harsh man, by imposing a guard on the tender girl
    you accomplish nothing; each is to be protected by her own nature.
If any woman, fear removed, is chaste, she is chaste indeed;
    she who, because it is not permitted, does not do it—she does it!
Granted that you have well safeguarded the body, the mind is an adulteress;
    nor can any be guarded, if she does not will it.

nec corpus servare potes, licet omnia claudas;
    omnibus exclusis intus adulter erit.
cui peccare licet, peccat minus; ipsa potestas
     semina nequitiae languidiora facit.
desine, crede mihi, vitia inritare vetando;
    obsequio vinces aptius illa tuo.

nor can you keep the body safe, though you lock all things;
    with all shut out, inside there will be an adulterer.
he to whom it is permitted to sin, sins less; the very power
    makes the seeds of iniquity more languid.
cease, believe me, to irritate vices by forbidding;
    you will conquer those things more aptly by your compliance.

Vidi ego nuper equum contra sua vincla tenacem
    ore reluctanti fulminis ire modo;
constitit ut primum concessas sensit habenas
    frenaque in effusa laxa iacere iuba!
nitimur in vetitum semper cupimusque negata;
    sic interdictis imminet aeger aquis.
centum fronte oculos, centum cervice gerebat
    Argus — et hos unus saepe fefellit Amor;
in thalamum Danae ferro saxoque perennem
    quae fuerat virgo tradita, mater erat;
Penelope mansit, quamvis custode carebat,
    inter tot iuvenes intemerata procos.

I saw recently a horse, stubborn against its bonds,
    with a reluctant mouth to go in the manner of a thunderbolt;
it halted as soon as it sensed the reins granted,
    and the bridle to lie slack in the flowing mane!
we strive toward the forbidden and we always desire the things denied;
    thus a sick man hangs over waters that are interdicted.
100 eyes on his brow, 100 on his neck did
    Argus bear — and even these one Love often deceived;
into a bedchamber everlasting by iron and stone
    Danaë, who had been handed over as a maiden, was a mother;
Penelope remained, although she lacked a guard,
    undefiled among so many youthful suitors.

Quidquid servatur cupimus magis, ipsaque furem
    cura vocat; pauci, quod sinit alter, amant.
nec facie placet illa sua, sed amore mariti;
    nescio quid, quod te ceperit, esse putant.
non proba fit, quam vir servat, sed adultera cara;
    ipse timor pretium corpore maius habet.

Whatever is kept we desire more, and care itself calls a thief;
    few love what another permits.
she pleases not by her own face, but by the love of her husband;
    they think there is I-know-not-what which has captured you.
she whom a husband guards does not become a chaste woman, but a dear adulteress;
    the very fear holds a price greater than the body.

indignere licet, iuvat inconcessa voluptas;
    sola placet, 'timeo!' dicere siqua potest.
nec tamen ingenuam ius est servare puellam —
    hic metus externae corpora gentis agat!
scilicet ut possit custos 'ego' dicere 'feci,'
    in laudem servi casta sit illa tui?

you may be indignant, the not-conceded pleasure delights;
    only she pleases, if any can say, 'I fear!'
nor yet is it right to guard a freeborn girl —
    let this fear constrain the bodies of a foreign race!
of course, so that the guard may be able to say, 'I did it,'
    shall she be chaste to the praise of your slave?

Rusticus est nimium, quem laedit adultera coniunx,
    et notos mores non satis urbis habet
in qua Martigenae non sunt sine crimine nati
    Romulus Iliades Iliadesque Remus.
quo tibi formosam, si non nisi casta placebat?
    non possunt ullis ista coire modis.

He is too rustic, whom an adulterous spouse wounds,
    and he does not sufficiently have the city’s well-known mores
in which the Mars-born are not without blame—
    Romulus, Ilia-born, and Ilia-born Remus.
Why for you a beautiful woman, if only a chaste one pleased?
    those things cannot come together by any means.

Si sapis, indulge dominae vultusque severos
    exue, nec rigidi iura tuere viri,
et cole quos dederit — multos dabit — uxor amicos.
    gratia sic minimo magna labore venit;
sic poteris iuvenum convivia semper inire
    et, quae non dederis, multa videre domi.

If you are wise, indulge your mistress and cast off severe looks
    and do not uphold the rights of a rigid husband,
and cultivate the friends whom your wife gives — she will give many —.
    thus great favor comes with the least labor;
thus you will be able always to enter the banquets of young men
    and see at home many things which you have not given.

'Nox erat, et somnus lassos submisit ocellos;
    terruerunt animum talia visa meum:
Colle sub aprico creberrimus ilice lucus
    stabat, et in ramis multa latebat avis.
area gramineo suberat viridissima prato,
    umida de guttis lene sonantis aquae.
ipse sub arboreis vitabam frondibus aestum —
    fronde sub arborea sed tamen aestus erat —
ecce!

'It was night, and sleep let down my weary little eyes;
    such visions terrified my mind:
Beneath a sunny hill a very thick grove of holm‑oak
    stood, and in the branches many a bird lay hidden.
A very green open space lay beneath, with a grassy meadow,
    moist from the droplets of gently‑sounding water.
I myself, under arboreal leaves, was avoiding the heat —
    under arboreal frondage, yet nevertheless there was heat —
behold!

petens variis inmixtas floribus herbas
    constitit ante oculos candida vacca meos,
candidior nivibus, tunc cum cecidere recentes,
    in liquidas nondum quas mora vertit aquas;
candidior, quod adhuc spumis stridentibus albet
    et modo siccatam, lacte, reliquit ovem.
taurus erat comes huic, feliciter ille maritus,
     cumque sua teneram coniuge pressit humum.
Dum iacet et lente revocatas ruminat herbas
    atque iterum pasto pascitur ante cibo,
visus erat, somno vires adimente ferendi,
    cornigerum terra deposuisse caput.

seeking grasses commingled with various flowers
    a bright-white cow stood before my eyes,
whiter than snows, then when they have fallen fresh,
    not yet those which delay has turned into liquid waters;
whiter, for even now it whitens with hissing foams
    and has just left a ewe milked dry.
a bull was her companion, happily that husband,
    and with his own consort he pressed the tender ground.
While he lies and slowly ruminates the recalled herbage
    and is fed again on food previously pastured,
he seemed, as sleep was taking away the strength for bearing it,
    to have laid his horned head upon the earth.

huc levibus cornix pinnis delapsa per auras
    venit et in viridi garrula sedit humo,
terque bovis niveae petulanti pectora rostro
    fodit et albentis abstulit ore iubas.
illa locum taurumque diu cunctata relinquit —
    sed niger in vaccae pectore livor erat;
utque procul vidit carpentes pabula tauros —
    carpebant tauri pabula laeta procul —
illuc se rapuit gregibusque inmiscuit illis
    et petiit herbae fertilioris humum.
Dic age, nocturnae, quicumque es, imaginis augur,
    siquid habent veri, visa quid ista ferant.'
Sic ego; nocturnae sic dixit imaginis augur,
    expendens animo singula dicta suo:
'Quem tu mobilibus foliis vitare volebas,
    sed male vitabas, aestus amoris erat.

Hither a crow, having slipped down through the breezes on light pinions,
    came and, garrulous, sat upon the green ground,
and thrice with a petulant beak she dug the breast of the snow-white cow
    and with her mouth carried off the whitening locks.
she, after long delay, leaves the place and the bull —
    but there was a black livid bruise on the cow’s breast;
and when from afar she saw bulls cropping their fodder —
    the bulls were cropping the gladsome fodder far away —
thither she rushed and mingled herself with those herds
    and made for ground of more fertile grass.
“Come, say, augur of the nocturnal image, whoever you are,
    if they have anything of verity, what these visions bring.”
So I; thus spoke the augur of the nocturnal image,
    weighing each particular with his own mind:
“That heat which you wished to avoid with mobile leaves,
    but were ill avoiding, was the heat of love.”

vacca puella tua est — aptus color ille puellae;
    tu vir et in vacca conpare taurus eras.
pectora quod rostro cornix fodiebat acuto,
    ingenium dominae lena movebat anus.
quod cunctata diu taurum sua vacca reliquit,
    frigidus in viduo destituere toro.

the cow is your girl — that color is apt for the girl;
    you are the man, and in the cow the bull was your consort.
because the crow with its sharp beak was digging the breasts,
    the old procuress was stirring the mistress’s temperament.
that, after long delay, your cow left her bull,
    a cold fellow left you on a widowed couch.

livor et adverso maculae sub pectore nigrae
pectus adulterii labe carere negant.'
Dixerat interpres. gelido mihi sanguis ab ore
fugit, et ante oculos nox stetit alta meos.

the bruise and the black spots beneath the opposite breast
deny that the breast is free from the stain of adultery.'
The interpreter had spoken. My blood fled from my icy face,
and deep night stood before my eyes.

Amnis harundinibus limosas obsite ripas,
    ad dominam propero — siste parumper aquas!
nec tibi sunt pontes nec quae sine remigis ictu
    concava traiecto cumba rudente vehat.
parvus eras, memini, nec te transire refugi,
    summaque vix talos contigit unda meos.

River, your muddy banks overgrown with reeds,
    I hasten to my mistress — stay the waters for a little while!
nor have you bridges, nor a hollow skiff which, without the oarsman’s stroke,
    might carry across, with a rope stretched from bank to bank.
you were small, I remember, nor did I shrink to cross you,
    and the water scarcely touched the tops of my ankles.

nunc ruis adposito nivibus de monte solutis
    et turpi crassas gurgite volvis aquas.
quid properasse iuvat, quid parca dedisse quieti
    tempora, quid nocti conseruisse diem,
si tamen hic standum est, si non datur artibus ullis
    ulterior nostro ripa premenda pedi?
nunc ego, quas habuit pinnas Danaeius heros,
    terribili densum cum tulit angue caput,
nunc opto currum, de quo Cerealia primum
    semina venerunt in rude missa solum.

now you rush, the snows loosened from the adjoining mountain,
    and you roll thick waters in a foul whirlpool.
what does it profit to have hastened, what to have parsimoniously given to rest
    times, what to have stitched day to night,
if nevertheless one must stand here, if by no arts is the farther bank
    to be pressed by my foot?
now I wish for the wings which the Danaean hero had,
    when he bore the head thick-set with the terrible serpent,
now I wish for the chariot, from which the Cereal seeds first
    came, sent into the uncultivated soil.

prodigiosa loquor veterum mendacia vatum;
    nec tulit haec umquam nec feret ulla dies.
Tu potius, ripis effuse capacibus amnis —
    sic aeternus eas — labere fine tuo!
non eris invidiae, torrens, mihi crede, ferendae,
    si dicar per te forte retentus amans.

I speak the prodigious mendacities of ancient vatic bards;
    no day has ever borne these, nor will any bear.
You rather, O river poured out along capacious banks —
    so may you go eternal — glide to your own end!
you will not be, believe me, torrent, an envy to be borne,
    if I am said perhaps to have been detained by you, a lover.

flumina deberent iuvenes in amore iuvare;
    flumina senserunt ipsa, quid esset amor.
Inachus in Melie Bithynide pallidus isse
    dicitur et gelidis incaluisse vadis.
nondum Troia fuit lustris obsessa duobus,
    cum rapuit vultus, Xanthe, Neaera tuos.

rivers ought to help youths in love;
    rivers themselves have felt what love is.
Inachus is said, pale, to have gone for Melie the Bithynian,
    and to have grown warm in his icy shallows.
Not yet was Troy besieged for ten years,
    when Neaera, O Xanthus, captured your looks.

quid? non Alpheon diversis currere terris
virginis Arcadiae certus adegit amor?
te quoque promissam Xutho, Penee, Creusam
Pthiotum terris occuluisse ferunt.

What? did not love drive Alpheus to run through diverse lands,
resolute for the Arcadian virgin?
they say that you too, Peneus, concealed Creusa promised to Xuthus
in the lands of the Phthiotes.

quid referam Asopon, quem cepit Martia Thebe,
    natarum Thebe quinque futura parens?
cornua si tua nunc ubi sint, Acheloe, requiram,
    Herculis irata fracta querere manu;
nec tanti Calydon nec tota Aetolia tanti,
    una tamen tanti Deianira fuit.
ille fluens dives septena per ostia Nilus,
    qui patriam tantae tam bene celat aquae,
fertur in Euanthe collectam Asopide flammam
    vincere gurgitibus non potuisse suis.

what should I recount Asopus, whom Martial Thebe captured,
    Thebe, destined to be mother of five daughters?
if I now inquire where your horns are, Achelous,
    complain that, angered, the hand of Hercules broke them;
neither was Calydon of such worth, nor all Aetolia of such worth,
    yet one alone was of such worth—Deianira was.
that rich-flowing Nile, streaming through seven mouths,
    who so well hides his fatherland beneath so great a water,
is said not to have been able with his whirlpools to conquer the flame
    gathered in Euanthe, an Asopid.

siccus ut amplecti Salmonida posset Enipeus,
    cedere iussit aquam; iussa recessit aqua.
Nec te praetereo, qui per cava saxa volutans
    Tiburis Argei pomifera arva rigas,
Ilia cui placuit, quamvis erat horrida cultu,
    ungue notata comas, ungue notata genas.
illa gemens patruique nefas delictaque Martis
    errabat nudo per loca sola pede.

so that, dry, Enipeus might embrace the Salmonean maiden,
    he ordered the water to yield; the water, as ordered, receded.
Nor do I pass you by, who, rolling through hollow rocks,
    you irrigate the fruit-bearing fields of Argive Tibur,
Ilia pleased you, although she was rough in dress,
    hair marked by the nail, cheeks marked by the nail.
she, groaning, and bewailing her uncle’s impiety and the offense of Mars,
    was wandering with bare foot through lonely places.

hanc Anien rapidis animosus vidit ab undis
    raucaque de mediis sustulit ora vadis
atque ita 'quid nostras' dixit 'teris anxia ripas,
    Ilia, ab Idaeo Laumedonte genus?
quo cultus abiere tui? quid sola vagaris,
    vitta nec evinctas inpedit alba comas?

the Anio, spirited, saw her from his rapid waves
    and hoarse he lifted his mouth from the midst of the shallows
and thus he said: 'why, anxious, do you wear away our banks,
    Ilia, lineage from Idaean Laomedon?
where have your adornments gone? why do you wander alone,
    and does no white fillet impede your hair, bound up?'

quid fles et madidos lacrimis corrumpis ocellos
pectoraque insana plangis aperta manu?
ille habet et silices et vivum in pectore ferrum,
qui tenero lacrimas lentus in ore videt.
Ilia, pone metus!

why do you weep and corrupt your little eyes soaked with tears
and beat your insane breast with an open hand?
He has both flints and living iron in his breast,
who, unmoved, sees tears on a tender face.
Ilia, put away fear!

tibi regia nostra patebit,
teque colent amnes. Ilia, pone metus!
tu centum aut plures inter dominabere nymphas;
nam centum aut plures flumina nostra tenent.

to you our royal palace will be open,
and the rivers will honor you. Ilia, put aside fear!
you will dominate among a hundred or more nymphs;
for a hundred or more hold our rivers.

ne me sperne, precor, tantum, Troiana propago;
    munera promissis uberiora feres.'
Dixerat. illa oculos in humum deiecta modestos
    spargebat teneros flebilis imbre sinus.
ter molita fugam ter ad altas restitit undas,
    currendi vires eripiente metu.

do not spurn me, I pray, so greatly, Trojan progeny;
    you will bring gifts more abundant than the promises.'
He had spoken. She, her modest eyes cast to the ground,
    tearful, was sprinkling her tender bosom with a shower.
thrice she attempted flight, thrice she halted at the high waves,
    as fear was snatching away the strength for running.

sera tamen scindens inimico pollice crinem
    edidit indignos ore tremente sonos:
'o utinam mea lecta forent patrioque sepulcro
    condita, cum poterant virginis ossa legi!
cur, modo Vestalis, taedas invitor ad ullas
    turpis et Iliacis infitianda focis?
quid moror et digitis designor adultera vulgi?

late, however, rending her hair with a hostile thumb,
    she gave forth unworthy sounds from a trembling mouth:
'O would that my bones had been gathered and laid in the paternal sepulcher,
    when a maiden’s bones could be collected!
why, only just now a Vestal, am I invited to any wedding-torches,
    foul and to be disowned by the Iliac hearths?
why do I delay, and am I marked out by the fingers of the crowd as an adulteress?

     desint famosus quae notet ora pudor!'
Hactenus, et vestem tumidis praetendit ocellis
    atque ita se in rapidas perdita misit aquas.
supposuisse manus ad pectora lubricus amnis
    dicitur et socii iura dedisse tori.
Te quoque credibile est aliqua caluisse puella;
    sed nemora et silvae crimina vestra tegunt.

    let the scandalous shame that would brand my face be lacking!'
Thus far, and she held her garment before her swollen eyes
    and so, undone, she hurled herself into the swift waters.
the slippery river is said to have placed his hands beneath her breast
    and to have given the rights of a shared bed.
It is believable that some girl too has grown hot for you;
    but groves and forests cover your crimes.

dum loquor, increvit latis spatiosior undis,
nec capit admissas alveus altus aquas.
quid mecum, furiose, tibi? quid mutua differs
gaudia?

While I speak, it has increased, more spacious with broad waves,
nor does the deep channel contain the admitted waters.
What have you to do with me, furious one? Why do you defer
mutual joys?

quid coeptum, rustice, rumpis iter?
quid? si legitimum flueres, si nobile flumen,
si tibi per terras maxima fama foret —
nomen habes nullum, rivis collecte caducis,
nec tibi sunt fontes nec tibi certa domus!

Why, rustic, do you break the journey I have begun?
What then? Even if you flowed legitimate, if a noble river,
if for you throughout the lands the greatest fame were —
you have no name, collected from falling rivulets,
nor have you springs nor a fixed home!

fontis habes instar pluviamque nivesque solutas,
    quas tibi divitias pigra ministrat hiemps;
aut lutulentus agis brumali tempore cursus,
    aut premis arentem pulverulentus humum.
quis te tum potuit sitiens haurire viator?
    quis dixit grata voce 'perennis eas'?
damnosus pecori curris, damnosior agris.

you have the semblance of a spring, and the rains and the loosened snows,
    which riches sluggish winter ministers to you;
or, muddy, you drive your course in the brumal season,
    or, pulverulent, you press the arid soil.
who then could a thirsty traveler draw you?
    who said with a pleasing voice, 'may you go perennial'?
you run damaging to the flock, more damaging to the fields.

forsitan haec alios; me mea damna movent.
Huic ego, vae! demens narrabam fluminum amores!

perhaps these things move others; my own losses move me.
To this one I, alas! demented, was telling the loves of rivers!

    iactasse indigne nomina tanta pudet.
nescio quem hunc spectans Acheloon et Inachon amnem
    et potui nomen, Nile, referre tuum!
at tibi pro meritis, opto, non candide torrens,
    sint rapidi soles siccaque semper hiemps!

    it shames me to have tossed such great names unworthily.
gazing at this I-know-not-what stream, Achelous and the river Inachus
    and I could refer your name, Nile!
but to you for your deserts, I wish, O not-fair torrent,
    may there be scorching suns and a dry winter always!

VII

At non formosa est, at non bene culta puella,
    at, puto, non votis saepe petita meis!
hanc tamen in nullos tenui male languidus usus,
    sed iacui pigro crimen onusque toro;
nec potui cupiens, pariter cupiente puella,
    inguinis effeti parte iuvante frui.
illa quidem nostro subiecit eburnea collo
    bracchia Sithonia candidiora nive,
osculaque inseruit cupida luctantia lingua
    lascivum femori supposuitque femur,
et mihi blanditias dixit dominumque vocavit,
    et quae praeterea publica verba iuvant.

But “she is not beautiful,” but “not well-groomed,” the girl,—    but, I think, not often sought by my vows!
yet I, sadly languid, kept this one to no uses at all,    but I lay, a crime and a burden, on the sluggish couch;
nor could I, though desiring, with the girl desiring equally,    enjoy, the part of my effete groin lending aid.
she indeed placed beneath my neck her ivory arms,    brighter than Sithonian snow,
and she pressed in kisses, her eager tongue struggling,    and she set a wanton thigh beneath my thigh,
and she spoke blandishments to me and called me “master,”    and the other common words besides that please.

tacta tamen veluti gelida mea membra cicuta
    segnia propositum destituere meum;
truncus iners iacui, species et inutile pondus,
    et non exactum, corpus an umbra forem.
Quae mihi ventura est, siquidem ventura, senectus,
    cum desit numeris ipsa iuventa suis?
a, pudet annorum: quo me iuvenemque virumque?

yet my limbs, as if touched by gelid hemlock,
    sluggish, abandoned my purpose;
I lay an inert trunk, a mere appearance and a useless weight,
    and not exact whether I was a body or a shade.
What senescence is to come to me, if indeed to come,
    when youth itself is lacking in its own numbers?
ah, I am ashamed of my years: whither am I, both youth and man?

    nec iuvenem nec me sensit amica virum!
sic flammas aditura pias aeterna sacerdos
    surgit et a caro fratre verenda soror.
at nuper bis flava Chlide, ter candida Pitho,
    ter Libas officio continuata meo est;
exigere a nobis angusta nocte Corinnam
     me memini numeros sustinuisse novem.

    nor did my girlfriend perceive in me either a youth or a man!
so the eternal priestess, about to approach the pious flames,
    rises, and the reverend sister from her dear brother.
but recently, twice the blonde Chlide, thrice the bright Pitho,
    thrice Libas was continued by my service;
I remember that, in a tight night, Corinna exacted from me
     I sustained nine numbers.

Num mea Thessalico languent devota veneno
    corpora? num misero carmen et herba nocent,
sagave poenicea defixit nomina cera
    et medium tenuis in iecur egit acus?
carmine laesa Ceres sterilem vanescit in herbam,
    deficiunt laesi carmine fontis aquae,
ilicibus glandes cantataque vitibus uva
    decidit, et nullo poma movente fluunt.

Are my limbs, devoted by Thessalian venom, languishing,
    do a charm and an herb harm the wretch?
Or has a witch with Phoenician wax fixed down my names,
    and driven a slender needle into the midst of my liver?
Ceres, harmed by a charm, vanishes into barren herb,
    the waters of a spring, harmed by a charm, fail,
from holm-oaks acorns and the grape, sung over on the vines,
    fall, and apples flow with no one moving them.

quid vetat et nervos magicas torpere per artes?
forsitan inpatiens fit latus inde meum.
huc pudor accessit: facti pudor ipse nocebat;
ille fuit vitii causa secunda mei.

what forbids even my nerves to grow torpid through magical arts?
perhaps from that my loins become impatient.
to this, shame was added: the shame of the deed itself was harming;
that was the second cause of my defect.

At qualem vidi tantum tetigique puellam!
sic etiam tunica tangitur illa sua.
illius ad tactum Pylius iuvenescere possit
Tithonosque annis fortior esse suis.

But what a maiden I saw and even touched!
thus even she is touched only by her own tunic.
at her touch the Pylian might grow young again,
and Tithonus be stronger than his years.

haec mihi contigerat; sed vir non contigit illi.
quas nunc concipiam per nova vota preces?
credo etiam magnos, quo sum tam turpiter usus,
muneris oblati paenituisse deos.

these things had befallen me; but a man did not befall her.
what prayers shall I now conceive through new vows?
I believe even the great gods repented of the proffered gift,
which I used so shamefully.

optabam certe recipi — sum nempe receptus;
oscula ferre — tuli; proximus esse — fui.
quo mihi fortunae tantum? quo regna sine usu?

I was certainly wishing to be received — indeed I have been received;
to bear kisses — I bore them; to be nearest — I was.
To what end for me so much of fortune? to what end kingdoms without use?

    quid, nisi possedi dives avarus opes?
sic aret mediis taciti vulgator in undis
    pomaque, quae nullo tempore tangat, habet.
a tenera quisquam sic surgit mane puella,
    protinus ut sanctos possit adire deos?

    What was it, except that I, a rich avaricious miser, possessed wealth?
thus the divulger thirsts in the midst of the silent waves
    and has fruits which he may touch at no time.
does any tender girl so rise early in the morning,
    that straightway she can approach the holy gods?

Sed, puto, non blanda: non optima perdidit in me
    oscula; non omni sollicitavit ope!
illa graves potuit quercus adamantaque durum
    surdaque blanditiis saxa movere suis.
digna movere fuit certe vivosque virosque;
    sed neque tum vixi nec vir, ut ante, fui.

But, I think, she was not coaxing: she did not squander upon me her best kisses; she did not solicit me with every resource!
She could move weighty oaks and hard adamant and rocks deaf to her blandishments.
She was surely worthy to move them, and living men as well;
but neither then did I live, nor was I a man, as before.

quid iuvet, ad surdas si cantet Phemius aures?
quid miserum Thamyran picta tabella iuvat?
At quae non tacita formavi gaudia mente!

what good is it, if Phemius should sing to deaf ears?
what good does a painted tablet do for wretched Thamyras?
But what joys I have formed in a silent mind!

    quos ego non finxi disposuique modos!
nostra tamen iacuere velut praemortua membra
    turpiter hesterna languidiora rosa —
quae nunc, ecce, vigent intempestiva valentque,
    nunc opus exposcunt militiamque suam.
quin istic pudibunda iaces, pars pessima nostri?

    what modes did I not fashion and set in order!
yet my works lay, like pre-dead limbs,
    shamefully more languid than yesterday’s rose —
which now, behold, flourish out of season and are strong,
    now demand work and their own soldiery.
why then do you lie there, bashful, the worst part of me?

    sic sum pollicitis captus et ante tuis.
tu dominum fallis; per te deprensus inermis
    tristia cum magno damna pudore tuli.
Hanc etiam non est mea dedignata puella
    molliter admota sollicitare manu;
sed postquam nullas consurgere posse per artes
    inmemoremque sui procubuisse videt,
'quid me ludis?' ait, 'quis te, male sane, iubebat
    invitum nostro ponere membra toro?

    thus I was captured by your promises even before.
you deceive your master; through you, caught unarmed,
    I bore grievous losses with great shame.
Even this my girl did not disdain
    to stimulate with a hand softly applied;
but after she sees that by no arts it can rise
    and that, forgetful of itself, it has prostrated itself,
'why do you mock me?' she says, 'who, quite madly, was bidding you,
    unwilling, to place your limbs on our bed?

aut te traiectis Aeaea venefica lanis
    devovet, aut alio lassus amore venis.'
nec mora, desiluit tunica velata soluta —
    et decuit nudos proripuisse pedes! —
neve suae possent intactam scire ministrae,
    dedecus hoc sumpta dissimulavit aqua.

either some Aeaean sorceress with pierced-through wools
    is devoting you with a curse, or you come weary from another love.'
without delay, she leapt down, veiled with her loosened tunic —
    and it suited her to have snatched forth her bare feet! —
and lest her handmaids could know her untouched,
    she disguised this disgrace by taking up water.

VIII

Et quisquam ingenuas etiamnunc suspicit artes,
    aut tenerum dotes carmen habere putat?
ingenium quondam fuerat pretiosius auro;
    at nunc barbaria est grandis, habere nihil.
cum pulchrae dominae nostri placuere libelli,
    quo licuit libris, non licet ire mihi;
cum bene laudavit, laudato ianua clausa est.

And does anyone even now look up to the liberal arts,
    or think that the tender song has dowries?
once genius was more precious than gold;
    but now the great barbarism is to have nothing.
when the little books of ours pleased the beautiful mistress,
    where it was permitted for the books to go, it is not permitted for me to go;
when she praised well, the door was closed to the one praised.

    turpiter huc illuc ingeniosus eo.
Ecce, recens dives parto per vulnera censu
    praefertur nobis sanguine pastus eques!
hunc potes amplecti formosis, vita, lacertis?
    huius in amplexu, vita, iacere potes?

    shamefully, hither and thither I, a man of talent, go.
Behold, newly rich with a fortune acquired through wounds,
    the blood-fed equestrian is preferred to us!
can you, life, embrace this man with your shapely arms?
    can you, life, lie in this man’s embrace?

si nescis, caput hoc galeam portare solebat;
    ense latus cinctum, quod tibi servit, erat;
laeva manus, cui nunc serum male convenit aurum,
    scuta tulit; dextram tange — cruenta fuit!
qua periit aliquis, potes hanc contingere dextram?
    heu, ubi mollities pectoris illa tui?

if you do not know, this head used to carry a helmet;
    the flank was girt with a sword, which serves you;
the left hand, to which late-coming gold now ill suits,
    bore shields; touch the right — it was blood-stained!
by which someone perished, can you touch this right hand?
    alas, where is that softness of your breast?

cerne cicatrices, veteris vestigia pugnae —
quaesitum est illi corpore, quidquid habet.
forsitan et, quotiens hominem iugulaverit, ille
indicet! hoc fassas tangis, avara, manus?

Behold the scars, the vestiges of an old fight —
whatever he has has been acquired by that body.
perhaps even, as often as he has slit a man’s throat, he
will point it out! Do you touch these hands, greedy one, that confess to this?

ille ego Musarum purus Phoebique sacerdos
    ad rigidas canto carmen inane fores?
discite, qui sapitis, non quae nos scimus inertes,
    sed trepidas acies et fera castra sequi
proque bono versu primum deducite pilum!
    nox tibi, si belles, possit, Homere, dari.

Am I that one, a pure priest of the Muses and of Phoebus,
    to sing an empty song at unyielding doors?
Learn, you who are wise, not what we inert ones know,
    but to follow quivering battle-lines and savage camps,
and instead of a good verse, lower the foremost pilum!
    a night could be granted to you, Homer, if you would wage war.

Iuppiter, admonitus nihil esse potentius auro,
    corruptae pretium virginis ipse fuit.
dum merces aberat, durus pater, ipsa severa,
    aerati postes, ferrea turris erat;
sed postquam sapiens in munere venit adulter,
    praebuit ipsa sinus et dare iussa dedit.
at cum regna senex caeli Saturnus haberet,
    omne lucrum tenebris alta premebat humus.

Jupiter, admonished that nothing is more potent than gold,
    himself was the price of the corrupted maiden.
while the payment was absent, the father was harsh, she herself severe,
    the doorposts were bronze-plated, the tower iron;
but after the adulterer, wise in the gift, came,
    she herself proffered her bosom and, bidden to give, gave.
but when old Saturn held the kingdoms of heaven,
    the deep earth pressed down all lucre in darkness.

aeraque et argentum cumque auro pondera ferri
    manibus admorat, nullaque massa fuit.
at meliora dabat — curvo sine vomere fruges
    pomaque et in quercu mella reperta cava.
nec valido quisquam terram scindebat aratro,
    signabat nullo limite mensor humum,
non freta demisso verrebant eruta remo;
    ultima mortali tum via litus erat.

and bronze and silver and the weights of iron along with gold
    she had not brought near to human hands, and there was no ingot.
but she gave better things — without the curved ploughshare, crops,
    and apples, and honey found in the hollow oak.
nor did anyone cleave the earth with a sturdy plough,
    the measurer marked the ground with no boundary-line,
they did not sweep the straits with the lowered, hewn-out oar;
    then the shore was the farthest road for a mortal.

Contra te sollers, hominum natura, fuisti
et nimium damnis ingeniosa tuis.
quo tibi, turritis incingere moenibus urbes?
quo tibi, discordes addere in arma manus?

Against yourself, skillful human nature, you have been
and too ingenious to your own damage.
To what end for you, to gird cities with turreted walls?
To what end for you, to add discordant bands into arms?

quid tibi cum pelago — terra contenta fuisses!
cur non et caelum, tertia regna, petis?
qua licet, adfectas caelum quoque — templa Quirinus,
Liber et Alcides et modo Caesar habent.

what have you to do with the sea — you would have been content with the land!
why do you not seek even the sky, the third realm?
by whatever way it is permitted, you aspire to the sky as well — temples Quirinus,
Liber and Alcides and now Caesar have.

eruimus terra solidum pro frugibus aurum.
possidet inventas sanguine miles opes.
curia pauperibus clausa est — dat census honores;
inde gravis iudex, inde severus eques!

we excavate from the earth solid gold in place of crops.
the soldier possesses riches discovered by blood.
the Curia is closed to the poor — the census bestows honors;
hence a grave judge, hence a severe knight!

Omnia possideant; illis Campusque forumque
    serviat, hi pacem crudaque bella gerant —
tantum ne nostros avidi liceantur amores,
    et — satis est — aliquid pauperis esse sinant!
at nunc, exaequet tetricas licet illa Sabinas,
    imperat ut captae qui dare multa potest;
me prohibet custos, in me timet illa maritum.
    si dederim, tota cedet uterque domo!

Let them possess everything; let the Campus and the forum
    serve them; let these men conduct peace and raw, bloody wars —
only let the greedy not bid for our loves,
    and — it is enough — let them allow something to belong to the poor man!
but now, though she may equal the grim Sabine women,
    the man who can give much commands her as if she were captured;
a guard forbids me, and as for me, she fears a husband.
    if I should give, both will yield throughout the whole house!

o si neclecti quisquam deus ultor amantis
tam male quaesitas pulvere mutet opes!

o if some avenging god of the neglected lover
would change into dust the wealth so ill-gotten!

Memnona si mater, mater ploravit Achillem,
    et tangunt magnas tristia fata deas,
flebilis indignos, Elegia, solve capillos!
    a, nimis ex vero nunc tibi nomen erit! —
ille tui vates operis, tua fama, Tibullus
    ardet in extructo, corpus inane, rogo.

If a mother wept for Memnon, a mother for Achilles,
    and sad fates touch the great goddesses,
tearful Elegy, loosen your unbefitting tresses!
    ah, now your name will be all too true! —
that poet of your work, your fame, Tibullus
    burns on the heaped-up pyre, an empty body.

ecce, puer Veneris fert eversamque pharetram
    et fractos arcus et sine luce facem;
adspice, demissis ut eat miserabilis alis
    pectoraque infesta tundat aperta manu!
excipiunt lacrimas sparsi per colla capilli,
    oraque singultu concutiente sonant.
fratris in Aeneae sic illum funere dicunt
    egressum tectis, pulcher Iule, tuis;
nec minus est confusa Venus moriente Tibullo,
    quam iuveni rupit cum ferus inguen aper.

behold, the boy of Venus bears the overturned quiver
    and the broken bows and a torch without light;
look, how with wings let down he goes pitiable,
    and pounds his afflicted breast with open hand!
hair scattered over his neck catches the tears,
    and the lips resound as a sob convulses him.
thus, they say, at the funeral of brother Aeneas
    he went forth from your roofs, fair Iulus;
nor is Venus less confounded at Tibullus dying
    than when the savage boar broke the youth’s groin.

at sacri vates et divum cura vocamur;
sunt etiam qui nos numen habere putent.
Scilicet omne sacrum mors inportuna profanat,
omnibus obscuras inicit illa manus!
quid pater Ismario, quid mater profuit Orpheo?

but we are called sacred bards and the concern of the gods;
there are even those who think that we possess a numen.
Surely untimely death profanes every sacred thing,
upon all she casts those dark hands!
what did a father profit Ismarian Orpheus, what a mother?

    carmine quid victas obstipuisse feras?
et Linon in silvis idem pater 'aelinon!' altis
    dicitur invita concinuisse lyra.
adice Maeoniden, a quo ceu fonte perenni
    vatum Pieriis ora rigantur aquis —
hunc quoque summa dies nigro submersit Averno.

    by song, what did it avail that the conquered beasts stood agape?
and for Linus in the woods the same father 'aelinon!' in the high
    is said to have chanted with an unwilling lyre.
add the Maeonides, from whom, as from a perennial fountain
    the mouths of bards are irrigated with Pierian waters —
him too the final day submerged in black Avernus.

    defugiunt avidos carmina sola rogos;
durant, vatis opus, Troiani fama laboris
    tardaque nocturno tela retexta dolo.
sic Nemesis longum, sic Delia nomen habebunt,
    altera cura recens, altera primus amor.
Quid vos sacra iuvant?

    songs alone flee the avid pyres;
they endure—the vates’ work, the fame of Trojan labor,
    and the tardy web rewoven by nocturnal guile.
thus Nemesis, thus Delia will have a long-enduring name,
    the one a recent care, the other a first love.
What do sacred rites avail you?

quid nunc Aegyptia prosunt
sistra? quid in vacuo secubuisse toro?
cum rapiunt mala fata bonos — ignoscite fasso!

what good now are the Egyptian sistra?
what good to have lain apart on an empty couch?
when evil fates snatch away the good — forgive me for confessing!

—
    sollicitor nullos esse putare deos.
vive pius — moriere; pius cole sacra — colentem
    mors gravis a templis in cava busta trahet;
carminibus confide bonis — iacet, ecce, Tibullus:
    vix manet e toto, parva quod urna capit!
tene, sacer vates, flammae rapuere rogales
    pectoribus pasci nec timuere tuis?

—
    I am troubled to think there are no gods.
live piously — you will die; piously tend the sacred rites — the worshiper
    grim Death will drag from the temples into hollow tombs;
trust in good songs — behold, Tibullus lies:
    hardly remains of the whole what the small urn holds!
is it you the royal flames of the pyre have snatched, sacred vates,
    and did they not fear to feed on your breast?

aurea sanctorum potuissent templa deorum
    urere, quae tantum sustinuere nefas!
avertit vultus, Erycis quae possidet arces;
    sunt quoque, qui lacrimas continuisse negant.
Sed tamen hoc melius, quam si Phaeacia tellus
    ignotum vili supposuisset humo.

the golden temples of the holy gods could have burned,
    which endured such a nefarious crime!
she turned away her face, she who possesses the citadels of Eryx;
    there are also those who deny that she restrained her tears.
But yet this is better than if the Phaeacian land
    had laid him, unknown, beneath cheap soil.

hinc certe madidos fugientis pressit ocellos
    mater et in cineres ultima dona tulit;
hinc soror in partem misera cum matre doloris
    venit inornatas dilaniata comas,
cumque tuis sua iunxerunt Nemesisque priorque
    oscula nec solos destituere rogos.
Delia discedens 'felicius' inquit 'amata
    sum tibi; vixisti, dum tuus ignis eram.'
cui Nemesis 'quid' ait 'tibi sunt mea damna dolori?
    me tenuit moriens deficiente manu.'
Si tamen e nobis aliquid nisi nomen et umbra
    restat, in Elysia valle Tibullus erit.

From here surely his mother pressed shut the moist little eyes of the one departing,
    and brought the last gifts into the ashes;
from here his sister, wretched, came to share the grief with the mother,
    her unadorned hair torn;
and both Nemesis and the earlier beloved joined their kisses with yours,
    nor did they abandon the solitary pyres.
Delia, departing, said: 'More happily was I loved by you;
    you lived, so long as I was your fire.'
to whom Nemesis says: 'What are my losses to your sorrow?
    he held me as he was dying, with a deficient hand.'
If, however, from us anything besides name and shadow remains,
    Tibullus will be in the Elysian vale.

obvius huic venias hedera iuvenalia cinctus
    tempora cum Calvo, docte Catulle, tuo;
tu quoque, si falsum est temerati crimen amici,
    sanguinis atque animae prodige Galle tuae.
his comes umbra tua est; siqua est modo corporis umbra,
    auxisti numeros, culte Tibulle, pios.
ossa quieta, precor, tuta requiescite in urna,
    et sit humus cineri non onerosa tuo!

come to meet him, your temples wreathed with youthful ivy,
    together with Calvus, learned Catullus, your own;
you too, if the charge of a profaned friend is false,
    prodigal, Gallus, of your own blood and life.
his your shade is companion; if there is at all a shade of the body,
    you have increased the numbers, cultivated Tibullus, of the pious.
quiet bones, I pray, rest safe in the urn,
    and may the soil be not onerous to your ash!

Annua venerunt Cerealis tempora sacri;
    secubat in vacuo sola puella toro.
flava Ceres, tenues spicis redimita capillos,
    cur inhibes sacris commoda nostra tuis?
Te, dea, munificam gentes, ubi quaeque, loquuntur,
    nec minus humanis invidet ulla bonis.

The annual times of the sacred rite of Ceres have come;
    the girl lies alone on the empty couch.
golden Ceres, wreathed with ears of grain in her fine hair,
    why do you hinder our opportunities at your rites?
You, goddess, the peoples, wherever they are, call munificent,
    nor does any begrudge human blessings less.

ante nec hirsuti torrebant farra coloni,
    nec notum terris area nomen erat,
sed glandem quercus, oracula prima, ferebant;
    haec erat et teneri caespitis herba cibus.
prima Ceres docuit turgescere semen in agris
    falce coloratas subsecuitque comas;
prima iugis tauros supponere colla coegit,
    et veterem curvo dente revellit humum.
Hanc quisquam lacrimis laetari credit amantum
    et bene tormentis secubituque coli?

before the hirsute peasants were not roasting spelt,
    nor was the name of a threshing-floor known on the earth,
but the oaks bore acorns, the earliest oracles;
    this too was food, and the grass of tender turf.
first Ceres taught the seed to swell in the fields
    and with a sickle she cut the colored tresses;
first she compelled the necks of bulls to be put under yokes,
    and with a curved tooth she tore up the ancient soil.
Does anyone believe that she rejoices in lovers’ tears
    and is well worshiped by torments and by lying-apart?

nec tamen est, quamvis agros amet illa feraces,
rustica nec viduum pectus amoris habet.
Cretes erunt testes — nec fingunt omnia Cretes.
Crete nutrito terra superba Iove.

nor yet is she, although she loves fertile fields,
nor rustic, nor is her breast widowed of love.
The Cretans will be witnesses — nor do the Cretans feign everything.
Crete, the land proud of having nourished Jove.

illic, sideream mundi qui temperat arcem,
exiguus tenero lac bibit ore puer.
Magna fides testi: testis laudatur alumno.
fassuram Cererem crimina nostra puto.

there, he who tempers the sidereal citadel of the world,
a tiny boy, drank milk with a tender mouth.
Great credence to the witness: the witness is praised by the alumnus.
I think that our charges will make Ceres confess.

viderat Iasium Cretaea diva sub Ida
    figentem certa terga ferina manu.
vidit, et ut tenerae flammam rapuere medullae,
    hinc pudor, ex illa parte trahebat amor.
victus amore pudor; sulcos arere videres
    et sata cum minima parte redire sui.

she had seen Iasion, the Cretan goddess, beneath Ida
    fixing the ferine hides with a sure hand.
she saw, and as a flame seized her tender marrow,
    on this side modesty drew her, on that side love dragged her.
modesty, conquered by love; you would see the furrows parch
    and the sown crops return with the smallest portion of themselves.

cum bene iactati pulsarant arva ligones,
    ruperat et duram vomer aduncus humum,
seminaque in latos ierant aequaliter agros,
    inrita decepti vota colentis erant.
diva potens frugum silvis cessabat in altis;
    deciderant longae spicea serta comae.
sola fuit Crete fecundo fertilis anno;
    omnia, qua tulerat se dea, messis erat;
ipsa, locus nemorum, canebat frugibus Ide,
    et ferus in silva farra metebat aper.

when the hoes, well brandished, had beaten the fields,
    and the hooked ploughshare had broken the hard soil,
and the seeds had gone equally into the broad fields,
    the vows of the deceived cultivator were ineffectual.
the goddess, potent over fruits, was keeping away in the high woods;
    the wheaten garlands had fallen from her long locks.
Crete alone was fertile in a fecund year;
    everywhere the goddess had gone was harvest;
Ida itself, the place of groves, was resounding with crops,
    and the wild boar in the forest was reaping spelt.

optavit Minos similes sibi legifer annos;
    optasset, Cereris longus ut esset amor.
Quod tibi secubitus tristes, dea flava, fuissent,
    hoc cogor sacris nunc ego ferre tuis?
cur ego sim tristis, cum sit tibi nata reperta
    regnaque quam Iuno sorte minore regat?

Minos, the lawgiver, opted for years like those for himself;
    he would have wished that the love of Ceres be long.
Because bedfellows for you would have been sad, golden-haired goddess,
    am I now compelled to bear this to your sacred rites?
why should I be sad, since your daughter has been found
    and realms which she governs with a lesser allotment than Juno’s?

festa dies Veneremque vocat cantusque merumque;
haec decet ad dominos munera ferre deos.

a festal day calls for Venus and for song and for neat wine;
it befits to bear these gifts to the lord gods.

XIa

11a

Multa diuque tuli; vitiis patientia victa est;
    cede fatigato pectore, turpis amor!
scilicet adserui iam me fugique catenas,
    et quae non puduit ferre, tulisse pudet.
vicimus et domitum pedibus calcamus amorem;
    venerunt capiti cornua sera meo.

Many things and for a long time I have borne; patience has been conquered by vices;
    yield, depart from my wearied breast, base love!
Surely I have now asserted myself into freedom and fled the chains,
    and what it did not shame me to bear, it shames me to have borne.
We have conquered, and we trample underfoot a love subdued;
    horns came late to my head.

perfer et obdura! dolor hic tibi proderit olim;
saepe tulit lassis sucus amarus opem.
Ergo ego sustinui, foribus tam saepe repulsus,
ingenuum dura ponere corpus humo?

Endure and be obdurate! This pain will profit you someday;
often a bitter juice has brought aid to the weary.
Therefore did I endure, so often repulsed from the doors,
to lay my ingenuous body on the hard ground?

ergo ego nescio cui, quem tu conplexa tenebas,
    excubui clausam servus ut ante domum?
vidi, cum foribus lassus prodiret amator,
    invalidum referens emeritumque latus;
hoc tamen est levius, quam quod sum visus ab illo —
    eveniat nostris hostibus ille pudor!
Quando ego non fixus lateri patienter adhaesi,
    ipse tuus custos, ipse vir, ipse comes?

therefore was it for I know not whom, whom you were holding embraced,
    that I kept vigil, like a slave before a closed house?
I saw, when from the doors the weary lover came forth,
    bearing back a feeble and outworn flank;
yet this is lighter than that I was seen by him —
    may that shame befall our enemies!
When have I not, fixed to your side, patiently adhered,
    myself your guard, your husband, your companion?

scilicet et populo per me comitata placebas;
    causa fuit multis noster amoris amor.
turpia quid referam vanae mendacia linguae
    et periuratos in mea damna deos?
quid iuvenum tacitos inter convivia nutus
    verbaque conpositis dissimulata notis?

Surely even to the populace, through me accompanied, you were pleasing;
    our love was the cause of love for many.
why should I recount the disgraceful lies of a vain tongue
    and the perjured gods to my harm?
what of the young men’s silent nods amid banquets
    and words disguised by prearranged signs?

dicta erat aegra mihi — praeceps amensque cucurri;
    veni, et rivali non erat aegra meo!
His et quae taceo duravi saepe ferendis;
    quaere alium pro me, qui queat ista pati.
iam mea votiva puppis redimita corona
    lenta tumescentes aequoris audit aquas.

she had been said to me to be sick — headlong and out of my mind I ran;
I came, and she was not sick to my rival!
With these things and those which I keep silent, I have often hardened myself for bearing;
seek another in my place, who may be able to endure such things.
now my votive ship, wreathed with a crown, slow, listens to the swelling waters of the sea.

desine blanditias et verba, potentia quondam,
perdere — non ego nunc stultus, ut ante fui!

Cease to squander blandishments and words, once potent,
— I am not now a fool, as I was before!

XIb

11b

Luctantur pectusque leve in contraria tendunt
hac amor hac odium, sed, puto, vincit amor.
odero, si potero; si non, invitus amabo.
nec iuga taurus amat; quae tamen odit, habet.

They wrestle, and my light breast strains toward contraries;
here love, here odium; but, I think, love conquers.
I shall hate, if I can; if not, unwilling I shall love.
nor does the bull love the yoke; yet what he hates, he has.

nequitiam fugio — fugientem forma reducit;
    aversor morum crimina — corpus amo.
sic ego nec sine te nec tecum vivere possum,
    et videor voti nescius esse mei.
aut formosa fores minus, aut minus inproba, vellem;
    non facit ad mores tam bona forma malos.

I flee your vice — your form brings me back as I flee;
    I turn away from the crimes of your morals — I love the body.
thus I can live neither without you nor with you,
    and I seem to be ignorant of my own vow.
I would that either you were less beautiful, or less wicked;
    so good a form does not befit bad morals.

facta merent odium, facies exorat amorem —
    me miserum, vitiis plus valet illa suis!
Parce, per o lecti socialia iura, per omnis
    qui dant fallendos se tibi saepe deos,
perque tuam faciem, magni mihi numinis instar,
    perque tuos oculos, qui rapuere meos!
quidquid eris, mea semper eris; tu selige tantum,
    me quoque velle velis, anne coactus amem!

deeds merit hatred, the face wins over love —
    ah wretched me, by her own vices she prevails the more!
Spare me, O by the social rights of the couch, by all
    the gods who often grant themselves to be deceived by you,
and by your face, the likeness to me of a great divinity,
    and by your eyes, which have snatched away mine!
whatever you will be, you will always be mine; only choose this,
    whether you will that I too should will it, or that I love under compulsion!

lintea dem potius ventisque ferentibus utar,
ut, quam, si nolim, cogar amare, velim.

let me rather set the sails and make use of the bearing winds,
so that I may be willing to love her whom, if I should be unwilling, I would be compelled to love.

XII

Quis fuit ille dies, quo tristia semper amanti
    omina non albae concinuistis aves?
quodve putem sidus nostris occurrere fatis,
    quosve deos in me bella movere querar?
quae modo dicta mea est, quam coepi solus amare,
    cum multis vereor ne sit habenda mihi.

What day was that, on which, for one ever a lover,
    you white birds did not chime together sad omens?
or what star should I think ran counter to my fates,
    or which gods should I complain have moved wars against me?
she who just now was called mine, whom I began to love alone,
    I fear she must be had by me along with many.

Fallimur, an nostris innotuit illa libellis?
sic erit — ingenio prostitit illa meo.
et merito!

Are we mistaken, or has she become known in our little books?
so it will be — she has prostituted herself by my genius.
and deservedly!

quid enim formae praeconia feci?
vendibilis culpa facta puella mea est.
me lenone placet, duce me perductus amator,
ianua per nostras est adaperta manus.

For what heraldings of beauty did I make?
by my fault my girl has been made vendible.
She is pleased with me as a pimp; with me as guide the lover has been conducted,
the door has been opened by our hands.

An prosint, dubium, nocuerunt carmina semper;
    invidiae nostris illa fuere bonis.
cum Thebae, cum Troia foret, cum Caesaris acta,
    ingenium movit sola Corinna meum.
aversis utinam tetigissem carmina Musis,
    Phoebus et inceptum destituisset opus!

Whether they help is doubtful; poems have always harmed;
    those were for envy against my blessings.
when Thebes, when Troy, when the deeds of Caesar were my theme,
    Corinna alone moved my genius.
would that I had touched songs with the Muses turned away,
    and that Phoebus had abandoned the work begun!

Nec tamen ut testes mos est audire poetas;
    malueram verbis pondus abesse meis.
per nos Scylla patri caros furata capillos
    pube premit rabidos inguinibusque canes;
nos pedibus pinnas dedimus, nos crinibus angues;
    victor Abantiades alite fertur equo.
idem per spatium Tityon porreximus ingens,
    et tria vipereo fecimus ora cani;
fecimus Enceladon iaculantem mille lacertis,
    ambiguae captos virginis ore viros.

Nor, however, is it the custom to hear poets as witnesses;
    I had preferred the weight to be absent from my words.
through us Scylla, having stolen from her father his dear locks,
    presses rabid dogs at her pubic part and groins;
we gave wings to feet, we gave snakes to hair;
    the victorious Abantiad is borne on a winged horse.
likewise we stretched vast Tityos over a span,
    and we made three mouths for the viperous hound;
we made Enceladus hurling with a thousand arms,
    men captured by the mouth of the ambiguous maiden.

Aeolios Ithacis inclusimus utribus Euros;
    proditor in medio Tantalus amne sitit.
de Niobe silicem, de virgine fecimus ursam.
     concinit Odrysium Cecropis ales Ityn;
Iuppiter aut in aves aut se transformat in aurum
    aut secat inposita virgine taurus aquas.

We enclosed the Aeolian East-winds in Ithacan wine-skins;
    the traitor Tantalus thirsts in the midst of a river.
from Niobe we made flint, from a maiden we made a bear.
     the Cecropian bird sings of Odrysian Itys;
Jupiter either into birds or transforms himself into gold
    or, a bull with a maiden set atop, cuts the waters.

Protea quid referam Thebanaque semina, dentes;
    qui vomerent flammas ore, fuisse boves;
flere genis electra tuas, Auriga, sorores;
    quaeque rates fuerint, nunc maris esse deas;
aversumque diem mensis furialibus Atrei,
    duraque percussam saxa secuta lyram?
Exit in inmensum fecunda licentia vatum,
    obligat historica nec sua verba fide.
et mea debuerat falso laudata videri
    femina; credulitas nunc mihi vestra nocet.

Why should I recount Proteus and the Theban seeds, the teeth;
    that there were bulls who vomited flames from their mouths;
that your sisters, Charioteer, wept amber upon their cheeks;
    and those which had been ships are now goddesses of the sea;
and the day turned backward in the Furial months of Atreus,
    and the hard rocks that followed the lyre when struck?
The fecund license of poets goes out into the boundless,
    nor does it bind its words with historical faith.
And my woman too ought to have seemed lauded in falsehood,
    now your credulity harms me.

XIII

Cum mihi pomiferis coniunx foret orta Faliscis,
    moenia contigimus victa, Camille, tibi.
casta sacerdotes Iunoni festa parabant
    et celebres ludos indigenamque bovem;
grande morae pretium ritus cognoscere, quamvis
    difficilis clivis huc via praebet iter.
Stat vetus et densa praenubilus arbore lucus;
    adspice — concedas numen inesse loco.

When my wife had arisen for me from the apple-bearing Faliscans,
    we reached the walls conquered by you, Camillus.
chaste priestesses were preparing festivals for Juno
    and celebrated games and an indigenous ox;
great the reward of delay, to learn the rites, although
    the way here affords a path over steep slopes.
An ancient grove stands, overclouded with dense tree-cover;
    look — you would concede that a numen is present in the place.

accipit ara preces votivaque tura piorum —
    ara per antiquas facta sine arte manus.
hinc, ubi praesonuit sollemni tibia cantu,
    it per velatas annua pompa vias;
ducuntur niveae populo plaudente iuvencae,
    quas aluit campis herba Falisca suis,
et vituli nondum metuenda fronte minaces,
    et minor ex humili victima porcus hara,
duxque gregis cornu per tempora dura recurvo.
    invisa est dominae sola capella deae;
illius indicio silvis inventa sub altis
    dicitur inceptam destituisse fugam.

the altar receives the prayers and the votive incenses of the pious —
    an altar made by ancient hands without art.
from here, when the pipe has pre-sounded with solemn song,
    the annual pomp goes through the veiled ways;
snowy-white heifers are led, while the people applauds,
    which the Faliscan grass has nourished in its own fields,
and bull-calves, menacing with a brow not yet to be dreaded,
    and the lesser victim, a pig from the lowly sty,
and the leader of the herd, with a horn hard across the temples and recurved.
    only the she-goat is hateful to the lady goddess;
by her indication, she who was found beneath the high forests
    is said to have abandoned the flight she had begun.

nunc quoque per pueros iaculis incessitur index
    et pretium auctori vulneris ipsa datur.
Qua ventura dea est, iuvenes timidaeque puellae
    praeverrunt latas veste iacente vias.
virginei crines auro gemmaque premuntur,
    et tegit auratos palla superba pedes;
more patrum Graio velatae vestibus albis
    tradita supposito vertice sacra ferunt.

even now, too, the informer is assailed with javelins by the boys
    and she herself is given as the prize to the author of the wound.
Where the goddess is about to come, the youths and the timid girls
    sweep before them the broad ways with the garment trailing.
maidenly tresses are pressed by gold and gem,
    and a proud mantle covers gilded feet;
in the custom of the fathers, Greek, veiled in white garments
    they bear the sacred things handed down, with the head placed beneath.

ora favent populi tum cum venit aurea pompa,
    ipsa sacerdotes subsequiturque suas.
Argiva est pompae facies; Agamemnone caeso
    et scelus et patrias fugit Halaesus opes
iamque pererratis profugus terraque fretoque
    moenia felici condidit alta manu.
ille suos docuit Iunonia sacra Faliscos.

the mouths of the people are favorable then, when the golden pomp comes,
    and the goddess herself follows after her own priests.
the face of the pomp is Argive; with Agamemnon slain,
    Halaesus fled both the crime and his ancestral wealth,
and now, with lands and sea traversed as a refugee,
    he founded lofty walls with a fortunate hand.
he taught his own Falisci the Juno-nian rites.

sint mihi, sint populo semper amica suo!

may she be to me, may she be to her people ever amicable!

XIV

Non ego, ne pecces, cum sis formosa, recuso,
    sed ne sit misero scire necesse mihi;
nec te nostra iubet fieri censura pudicam,
    sed tamen, ut temptes dissimulare, rogat.
non peccat, quaecumque potest peccasse negare,
    solaque famosam culpa professa facit.
quis furor est, quae nocte latent, in luce fateri,
    et quae clam facias facta referre palam?

I do not object, since you are beautiful, to your sinning,
    but that it not be necessary for wretched me to know;
nor does our censure bid you to become chaste,
    but yet it asks that you try to dissimulate.
she does not sin, whoever can deny having sinned,
    and only she makes herself infamous who has professed her fault.
what madness is it to confess in the light what lies hidden at night,
    and to report openly the deeds which you do in secret?

ignoto meretrix corpus iunctura Quiriti
    opposita populum summovet ante sera;
tu tua prostitues famae peccata sinistrae
    commissi perages indiciumque tui?
sit tibi mens melior, saltemve imitare pudicas,
    teque probam, quamvis non eris, esse putem.
quae facis, haec facito; tantum fecisse negato,
    nec pudeat coram verba modesta loqui!

a prostitute, about to join her body to an unknown Quirite,
    with the door-bar set in place, drives the crowd back from in front;
will you prostitute your crimes to sinister rumor,
    and carry through the indictment of yourself for what you have committed?
let your mind be better, or at least imitate the modest,
    and let me think you respectable, though you will not be.
what you do, do these; only deny that you have done them,
    and let it not shame you to speak modest words in public!

Est qui nequitiam locus exigat; omnibus illum
    deliciis inple, stet procul inde pudor!
hinc simul exieris, lascivia protinus omnis
    absit, et in lecto crimina pone tuo.
illic nec tunicam tibi sit posuisse pudori
    nec femori inpositum sustinuisse femur;
illic purpureis condatur lingua labellis,
    inque modos Venerem mille figuret amor;
illic nec voces nec verba iuvantia cessent,
    spondaque lasciva mobilitate tremat!

There is a place that demands iniquity; fill it with every delight,
    let modesty stand far from there!
from there, as soon as you have gone out, let all lasciviousness at once
    be absent, and set your crimes upon your own couch.
there let it be no shame to you to have put off your tunic
    nor to have endured a thigh laid upon your thigh;
there let the tongue be buried in purple little lips,
    and let love fashion Venus in a thousand modes;
there let neither voices nor words that aid fall silent,
    and let the bedstead tremble with wanton mobility!

indue cum tunicis metuentem crimina vultum,
    et pudor obscenum diffiteatur opus;
da populo, da verba mihi; sine nescius errem,
    et liceat stulta credulitate frui!
Cur totiens video mitti recipique tabellas?
    cur pressus prior est interiorque torus?

put on, along with your tunics, a face that dreads accusations,
    and let modesty disavow the obscene work;
give the people, give me words; let me wander unknowing,
    and let it be permitted to enjoy foolish credulity!
Why so often do I see tablets sent and received?
    why is the inner couch first pressed down?

cur plus quam somno turbatos esse capillos
    collaque conspicio dentis habere notam?
tantum non oculos crimen deducis ad ipsos;
    si dubitas famae parcere, parce mihi!
mens abit et morior quotiens peccasse fateris,
    perque meos artus frigida gutta fluit.

why do I see your hair to be disordered more than by sleep,
    and behold your neck to have the mark of a tooth?
you almost draw the crime down to my very eyes;
    if you hesitate to spare your reputation, spare me!
my mind departs and I die whenever you confess to have sinned,
    and through my limbs a cold drop flows.

tunc amo, tunc odi frustra quod amare necesse est;
    tunc ego, sed tecum, mortuus esse velim!
Nil equidem inquiram, nec quae celare parabis
    insequar, et falli muneris instar erit.
si tamen in media deprensa tenebere culpa,
    et fuerint oculis probra videnda meis,
quae bene visa mihi fuerint, bene visa negato —
    concedent verbis lumina nostra tuis.

then I love, then I hate, in vain, that which it is necessary to love;
    then I—but with you—would wish to be dead!
I indeed will inquire into nothing, nor what you will prepare to hide
    will I pursue, and to be deceived will be in the likeness of a gift.
if, however, you are held caught in the midst of culpability,
    and disgraces must be seen by my eyes,
deny that the things which have seemed clearly seen to me were clearly seen —
    our eyes will yield to your words.

prona tibi vinci cupientem vincere palma est,
sit modo 'non feci!' dicere lingua memor.
cum tibi contingat verbis superare duobus,
etsi non causa, iudice vince tuo!

the victory-palm is inclined to you, to conquer one who desires to be conquered,
only let your tongue be mindful to say, 'I did not do it!'
since it befalls you to overcome with two words,
even if not by the cause, win with your own judge!

Quaere novum vatem, tenerorum mater Amorum!
    raditur hic elegis ultima meta meis;
quos ego conposui, Paeligni ruris alumnus —
    nec me deliciae dedecuere meae —
siquid id est, usque a proavis vetus ordinis heres,
    non modo militiae turbine factus eques.
Mantua Vergilio, gaudet Verona Catullo;
    Paelignae dicar gloria gentis ego,
quam sua libertas ad honesta coegerat arma,
    cum timuit socias anxia Roma manus.

Seek a new poet, mother of tender Loves!
    here the final turning-post for my elegies is grazed;
which I composed, a fosterling of the Paelignian countryside —
    nor did my own delights disgrace me —
such as it is, an ancient heir of rank from my forefathers onward,
    not a knight made by the whirlwind of warfare.
Mantua rejoices in Vergil, Verona in Catullus;
    I shall be called the glory of the Paelignian people,
whom their own liberty had driven to honorable arms,
    when anxious Rome feared allied hands.

atque aliquis spectans hospes Sulmonis aquosi
    moenia, quae campi iugera pauca tenent,
'Quae tantum' dicat 'potuistis ferre poetam,
    quantulacumque estis, vos ego magna voco.'
Culte puer puerique parens Amathusia culti.
    aurea de campo vellite signa meo!
corniger increpuit thyrso graviore Lyaeus:
    pulsanda est magnis area maior equis.

and some onlooker guest beholding watery Sulmo’s
    walls, which occupy few acres of the plain,
may say, “How great a poet have you been able to bear,
    however small you are; I call you great.”
Polished boy, and the Amathusian, parent of the polished boy,
    pluck the golden standards from my field!
horn-bearing Lyaeus has rattled with a heavier thyrsus:
    a greater arena must be beaten by great horses.

inbelles elegi, genialis Musa, valete,
post mea mansurum fata superstes opus.

unwarlike elegies, genial Muse, farewell,
after my death, a surviving work that will remain.