Ovid: TRISTIA

Parue—nec inuideo—sine me, liber, ibis in urbem:
     ei mihi, quod domino non licet ire tuo!
uade, sed incultus, qualem decet exulis esse;
     infelix habitum temporis huius habe.
nec te purpureo uelent uaccinia fuco—
     non est conueniens luctibus ille color—
nec titulus minio, nec cedro charta notetur,
     candida nec nigra cornua fronte geras.

Little—nor do I begrudge it—without me, book, you will go into the city:
     alas for me, that it is not permitted for your master to go!
go, but uncultivated, such as it befits an exile to be;
     unlucky, take on the habit of this time.
nor let bilberries veil you with purple dye—
     that color is not fitting for mournings—
nor let the title be in minium, nor let the sheet be marked with cedar,
     nor bear white or black horns upon your brow.

felices ornent haec instrumenta libellos:
     fortunae memorem te decet esse meae.
nec fragili geminae poliantur pumice frontes,
     hirsutus sparsis ut uideare comis.
neue liturarum pudeat; qui uiderit illas,
     de lacrimis factas sentiat esse meis.

let these instruments adorn fortunate little-books:
     it befits you to be mindful of my fortune.
nor let your twin fore-edges be polished with brittle pumice,
     so that you may seem hirsute with scattered locks.
nor let there be shame of erasures; whoever shall see them,
     let him perceive that they were made from my tears.

uade, liber, uerbisque meis loca grata saluta:
     contingam certe quo licet illa pede.
siquis, ut in populo, nostri non inmemor illi,
     siquis, qui, quid agam, forte requirat, erit:
uiuere me dices, saluum tamen esse negabis;
     id quoque, quod uiuam, munus habere dei.
atque ita tu tacitus, (quaerenti plura legendum)
     ne, quae non opus est, forte loquare, caue!

Go, book, and with my words salute the pleasing places:
     I shall at least touch those with the foot by which it is permitted.
if there shall be anyone—as in a populace—not unmindful of me there,
     if there will be anyone who perhaps inquires what I am doing:
you will say that I live, yet you will deny that I am safe;
     this too, that I live, you will hold to be a gift of a god.
and so you, being silent, (for one asking more, let more be read)
     beware lest by chance you speak what there is no need to say!

protinus admonitus repetet mea crimina lector,
     et peragar populi publicus ore reus.
tu caue defendas, quamuis mordebere dictis:
     causa patrocinio non bona maior erit.
inuenies aliquem, qui me suspiret ademptum,
     carmina nec siccis perlegat ista genis,
et tacitus secum, ne quis malus audiat, optet,
     sit mea lenito Caesare poena leuis.

at once, reminded, the reader will rehearse my crimes,
     and I shall be pursued as defendant by the people’s public mouth.
do you beware to defend me, though you will be bitten by words:
     a cause not good will not be made greater by advocacy.
you will find someone who will sigh for me, taken away,
     nor will he read these songs through with dry cheeks,
and, silent with himself, lest any malicious man hear, may wish
     that, with Caesar softened, my penalty be light.

nos quoque, quisquis erit, ne sit miser ille, precamur,
     placatos miseris qui uolet esse deos;
quaeque uolet, rata sint, ablataque principis ira
     sedibus in patriis det mihi posse mori.
ut peragas mandata, liber, culpabere forsan
     ingeniique minor laude ferere mei.
iudicis officium est ut res, ita tempora rerum
     quaerere; quaesito tempore tutus eris.

we too, whoever he will be, pray that he not be wretched,
     who will wish the gods to be placated toward the wretched;
and whatever he will wish, let it be ratified, and, the emperor’s wrath removed,
     let him grant me to be able to die in my ancestral seats.
so that you may carry out the mandates, book, you will perhaps be blamed
     and bear a lesser praise of my ingenuity.
it is the judge’s office to inquire, as into the matters, so into the times of the matters,
     to inquire; once the time has been inquired into, you will be safe.

carmina proueniunt animo deducta sereno:
     nubila sunt subitis pectora nostra malis.
carmina secessum scribentis et otia quaerunt:
     me mare, me uenti, me fera iactat hiems.
carminibus metus omnis obest: ego perditus ensem
     haesurum iugulo iam puto iamque meo.

poems come forth, drawn out, from a serene mind:
     our breasts are clouded by sudden ills.
poems seek the seclusion and leisures of the writer:
     me the sea, me the winds, me the fierce winter tosses.
every fear is a hindrance to poems: i, undone, now think a sword
     will stick fast in my throat—aye, in my own.

haec quoque quod facio, iudex mirabitur aequus,
     scriptaque cum uenia qualiacumque leget.
da mihi Maeoniden et tot circumice casus,
     ingenium tantis excidet omne malis.
denique securus famae, liber, ire memento,
     nec tibi sit lecto displicuisse pudor.

this too which I do, an equitable judge will marvel at,
     and will read the writings, such as they are, with pardon.
grant me the Maeonid, and encircle with so many mishaps,
     every talent will fail under such great evils.
finally, regardless of reputation, book, remember to go,
     nor let it be a shame to you to have displeased when read.

non ita se praebet nobis Fortuna secundam,
     ut tibi sit ratio laudis habenda tuae.
donec eram sospes, tituli tangebar amore,
     quaerendique mihi nominis ardor erat;
carmina nunc si non studiumque, quod obfuit, odi,
     sit satis; ingenio sic fuga parta meo.
tu tamen i pro me, tu, cui licet, aspice Romam;
     di facerent, possem nunc meus esse liber!

Fortune does not present herself to us so favorable,
     that consideration should be had for your praise.
so long as I was safe, I was touched by love of title,
     and there was for me an ardor of seeking a name;
now, if I do not hate the songs and the zeal which did harm,
     let it be enough; thus was flight procured by my genius.
you, however, go for me—you, to whom it is permitted, look upon Rome;
     would that the gods would bring it about that I could now be free myself!

nec te, quod uenias magnam peregrinus in urbem,
     ignotum populo posse uenire puta.
ut titulo careas, ipso noscere colore;
     dissimulare uelis, te liquet esse meum.
clam tamen intrato, ne te mea carmina laedant;
     non sunt ut quondam plena fauoris erant.

nor think that, because you come as a foreigner into the great city,
     you can come unknown to the people.
though you lack a title, to be known from your very color;
     even if you should wish to dissemble, it is clear you are mine.
yet enter secretly, lest my songs wound you;
     they are not, as once, full of favor.

siquis erit, qui te, quia sis meus, esse legendum
     non putet, e gremio reiciatque suo,
'inspice' dic 'titulum: non sum praeceptor amoris;
     quas meruit, poenas iam dedit illud opus.'
forsitan expectes, an in alta Palatia missum
     scandere te iubeam Caesareamque domum.
ignoscant augusta mihi loca dique locorum.
     uenit in hoc illa fulmen ab arce caput.

If there shall be anyone who, because you are mine, thinks you not to be read
     and casts you from his bosom, say: ‘inspect the title: I am not the preceptor of love;
     that work has already paid the penalties it deserved.’
Perhaps you expect whether I should bid you, sent to the lofty Palatine, to climb
     and the Caesarean house. May the august places and the gods of the places pardon me.
     upon this head that thunderbolt came from that citadel.

esse quidem memini mitissima sedibus illis
     numina, sed timeo qui nocuere deos.
terretur minimo pennae stridore columba,
     unguibus, accipiter, saucia facta tuis.
nec procul a stabulis audet discedere, siqua
     excussa est auidi dentibus agna lupi.

I remember indeed that most mild divinities are in those seats,
     but I fear the gods who have harmed.
A dove is terrified by the very slightest whir of a feather,
     wounded, hawk, by your talons.
Nor does a lamb dare to depart far from the stables, if any
     has been shaken free from the avid wolf’s teeth.

uitaret caelum Phaethon, si uiueret, et quos
     optarat stulte, tangere nollet equos.
me quoque, quae sensi, fateor Iouis arma timere:
     me reor infesto, cum tonat, igne peti.
quicumque Argolica de classe Capherea fugit,
     semper ab Euboicis uela retorquet aquis;
et mea cumba semel uasta percussa procella
     illum, quo laesa est, horret adire locum.

Phaethon would shun the sky, if he were alive, and the horses which he had foolishly desired     he would be unwilling to touch.
I too, from what I have felt, confess that I fear the arms of Jove:     I think that I am targeted by hostile fire when he thunders.
Whoever from the Argolic fleet fled the Capherean cape,     always turns his sails away from the Euboean waters;
and my skiff, once struck by a vast squall,     shudders to approach the place where it was damaged.

ergo caue, liber, et timida circumspice mente,
     ut satis a media sit tibi plebe legi.
dum petit infirmis nimium sublimia pennis
     Icarus, aequoreis nomina fecit aquis.
difficile est tamen hinc remis utaris an aura,
     dicere; consilium resque locusque dabunt.

Therefore beware, little book, and look around with a timid mind,
     so that it may suffice for you to be read by the middle plebs.
While Icarus, with feeble pinions, sought things too sublime,
     he made a name in the sea-waters.
It is difficult, however, to say from here whether you should use oars or a breeze;
     the affair and the place will give counsel.

si poteris uacuo tradi, si cuncta uidebis
     mitia, si uires fregerit ira suas;
siquis erit, qui te dubitantem et adire timentem
     tradat, et ante tamen pauca loquatur, adi.
luce bona dominoque tuo felicior ipse
     peruenias illuc et mala nostra leues.
namque ea uel nemo, uel qui mihi uulnera fecit
     solus Achilleo tollere more potest.

if you can be delivered at a vacant time, if you will see all things
     mild, if ire has broken its own strength;
if there will be someone who, with you hesitating and fearing to approach,
     delivers you, and yet speaks a few words beforehand, approach.
under a good light and with your lord more propitious may you yourself
     arrive there and lighten our evils.
for either no one, or he who inflicted the wounds on me,
     he alone can remove them in the Achillean manner.

tantum ne noceas, dum uis prodesse, uideto --
     nam spes est animi nostra timore minor—
quaeque quiescebat, ne mota resaeuiat ira
     et poenae tu sis altera causa, caue!
cum tamen in nostrum fueris penetrale receptus,
     contigerisque tuam, scrinia curua, domum,
aspicies illic positos ex ordine fratres,
     quos studium cunctos euigilauit idem.
cetera turba palam titulos ostendet apertos,
     et sua detecta nomina fronte geret;
tres procul obscura latitantes parte uidebis:
     hi quia, quod nemo nescit, amare docent;
hos tu uel fugias, uel, si satis oris habebis,
     Oedipodas facito Telegonosque uoces.

only see to it that you do not harm, while you wish to be of profit --
     for the hope of my spirit is lesser than its fear—
and the ire which was quiet, lest, once stirred, it grow savage again,
     and take care lest you be a second cause of penalty!
yet when you shall have been received into our inner penetral,
     and have reached your home, the curved book-chests,
you will behold there brothers set in order,
     whom the same zeal has kept all awake.
the rest of the crowd will openly display their open titles,
     and will bear their names uncovered upon their brow;
three you will see lurking far off in an obscure part:
     these, because they teach to love, which no one is ignorant of;
these do you either flee, or, if you will have enough face,
     see that you call them Oedipodes and Telegoni.

deque tribus, moneo, si qua est tibi cura parentis,
     ne quemquam, quamuis ipse docebit, ames.
sunt quoque mutatae, ter quinque uolumina, formae,
     nuper ab exequiis carmina rapta meis.
his mando dicas, inter mutata referri
     fortunae uultum corpora posse meae,
namque ea dissimilis subito est effecta priori,
     flendaque nunc, aliquo tempore laeta fuit.

and of the three, I warn you, if you have any care for your parent, do not love anyone, though he himself will teach it.
There are also the Changed Forms, fifteen volumes, songs recently snatched from my exequies.
to these I command you to say that, among the changed bodies, the face of my Fortune can be counted,
for it has suddenly been made unlike its former state, and now is to be wept, though at some time it was joyful.

plura quidem mandare tibi, si quaeris, habebam,
     sed uereor tardae causa fuisse uiae;
et si quae subeunt, tecum, liber, omnia ferres,
     sarcina laturo magna futurus eras.
longa uia est, propera! nobis habitabitur orbis
     ultimus, a terra terra remota mea.

indeed I had more to entrust to you, if you ask,
     but I fear to have been the cause of a tardy way;
and, if any things arise, you, book, would carry them all with you,
     you were going to be a great burden for the would-be bearer.
the way is long, hurry! by us the farthest world will be inhabited,
     a land remote from my land.

Di maris et caeli—quid enim nisi uota supersunt?—
     soluere quassatae parcite membra ratis,
neue, precor, magni subscribite Caesaris irae:
     saepe premente deo fert deus alter opem.
Mulciber in Troiam, pro Troia stabat Apollo;
     aequa Venus Teucris, Pallas iniqua fuit.
oderat Aenean propior Saturnia Turno;
     ille tamen Veneris numine tutus erat.

Gods of sea and sky—for what, indeed, except vows remain?—
     spare to unloose the shattered members of the raft,
and, I pray, do not subscribe to the wrath of great Caesar:
     often, when one god presses, another god brings help.
Mulciber was against Troy; for Troy stood Apollo;
     Venus was favorable to the Teucrians, Pallas unfavorable.
Saturnia, nearer to Turnus, hated Aeneas;
     he, however, was safe by the numen of Venus.

saepe ferox cautum petiit Neptunus Vlixem;
eripuit patruo saepe Minerua suo.
et nobis aliquod, quamuis distamus ab illis,
quis uetat irato numen adesse deo?
uerba miser frustra non proficientia perdo.

fierce Neptune often assailed cautious Ulysses;
Minerva often snatched him from her own uncle.
and for us too, although we are far from them,
who forbids a divinity to be present, though a god be angry?
wretched, I waste words in vain, words that do not avail.

     ipsa graues spargunt ora loquentis aquae,
terribilisque Notus iactat mea dicta, precesque
     ad quos mittuntur, non sinit ire deos.
ergo idem uenti, ne causa laedar in una,
     uelaque nescio quo uotaque nostra ferunt.
me miserum, quanti montes uoluuntur aquarum!

     the heavy waters themselves spatter the face of the speaker,
and terrible Notus tosses my words, and my prayers
     he does not allow to go to the gods to whom they are sent.
Therefore the same winds, lest I be harmed in a single cause,
     carry I know not whither both our sails and our vows.
Alas, wretched me, what mountains of waters are rolled!

iam iam tacturos sidera summa putes.
quantae diducto subsidunt aequore ualles!
iam iam tacturas Tartara nigra putes.

now, now you would think them about to touch the highest stars.
how great valleys subside with the sea drawn apart!
now, now you would think them about to touch black Tartarus.

quocumque aspicio, nihil est, nisi pontus et aer,
fluctibus hic tumidus, nubibus ille minax.
inter utrumque fremunt inmani murmure uenti.
nescit, cui domino pareat, unda maris.

wherever I look, there is nothing but the sea and the air,
this one tumid with billows, that one menacing with clouds.
between the two the winds roar with an immense murmur.
the wave of the sea knows not to which lord it should obey.

nam modo purpureo uires capit Eurus ab ortu,
     nunc Zephyrus sero uespere missus adest,
nunc sicca gelidus Boreas bacchatur ab Arcto,
     nunc Notus aduersa proelia fronte gerit.
rector in incerto est nec quid fugiatue petatue
     inuenit: ambiguis ars stupet ipsa malis.
scilicet occidimus, nec spes est ulla salutis,
     dumque loquor, uultus obruit unda meos.

for now the Eurus takes strength from the purple Orient,
     now Zephyrus, sent late at evening, is here,
now dry, icy Boreas runs riot from the Arctic Bear,
     now Notus wages hostile battles face-on.
the helmsman is in uncertainty and finds not what he should flee or seek:
     art itself is stupefied by ambiguous ills.
surely we perish, nor is there any hope of safety,
     and while I speak, a wave buries my face.

opprimet hanc animam fluctus, frustraque precanti
     ore necaturas accipiemus aquas.
at pia nil aliud quam me dolet exule coniunx:
     hoc unum nostri scitque gemitque mali.
nescit in inmenso iactari corpora ponto,
     nescit agi uentis, nescit adesse necem.

the wave will overwhelm this soul, and, praying in vain,
     with the mouth we shall receive waters destined to kill.
but my pious wife grieves for nothing other than me, an exile:
     this one thing of our misfortune she both knows and laments.
she does not know that bodies are tossed on the immense deep,
     she does not know they are driven by the winds, she does not know that death is at hand.

o bene, quod non sum mecum conscendere passus,
ne mihi mors misero bis patienda foret!
at nunc ut peream, quoniam caret illa periclo,
dimidia certe parte superstes ero.
ei mihi, quam celeri micuerunt nubila flamma!

O well that I did not allow her to embark with me,
lest death should have to be suffered twice by me, wretched!
But now, even if I perish, since she is without peril,
I shall surely survive at least by half.
Alas for me, how swiftly the clouds flashed with flame!

     quantus ab aetherio personat axe fragor!
nec leuius tabulae laterum feriuntur ab undis,
     quam graue ballistae moenia pulsat onus.
qui uenit hic fluctus, fluctus supereminet omnes:
     posterior nono est undecimoque prior.

     how great a crash resounds from the ethereal axis!
nor are the side-planks struck by the waves more lightly,
     than the heavy load of a ballista batters the walls.
what wave is this that comes? it overtops all the waves:
     the one that follows is after the ninth and before the eleventh.

nec letum timeo; genus est miserabile leti;
     demite naufragium, mors mihi munus erit.
est aliquid, fatoue suo ferroue cadentem
     in solida moriens ponere corpus humo,
et mandare suis aliqua et sperare sepulcrum
     et non aequoreis piscibus esse cibum.
fingite me dignum tali nece, non ego solus
     hic uehor.

nor do I fear death; the kind of death is miserable;
     take away shipwreck, death will be a boon for me.
there is something, whether by fate or by iron falling,
     in dying to place one’s body on solid earth,
and to commend something to one’s own and to hope for a sepulcher,
     and not to be food for sea-dwelling fishes.
suppose me worthy of such a death; I am not the only one
     carried here.

inmeritos cur mea poena trahit?
pro superi uiridesque dei, quibus aequora curae,
     utraque iam uestras sistite turba minas;
quamque dedit uitam mitissima Caesaris ira,
     hanc sinite infelix in loca iussa feram.
si quoque, quam merui poena me pendere uultis,
     culpa mea est ipso iudice morte minor.

Why does my punishment drag the undeserving?
O supernal gods and green deities, to whom the seas are a care,
     let both throngs now stay your menaces;
and the life which the most mild wrath of Caesar gave,
     allow me, unlucky, to carry into the appointed places.
if also you wish me to pay the penalty which I have deserved,
     my fault is, by the judge himself, less than death.

mittere me Stygias si iam uoluisset in undas
     Caesar, in hoc uestra non eguisset ope.
est illi nostri non inuidiosa cruoris
     copia; quodque dedit, cum uolet, ipse feret.
uos modo, quos certe nullo, puto, crimine laesi,
     contenti nostris iam, precor, este malis.

if Caesar had already wished to send me into the Stygian waves,
     he would not have needed your aid in this.
he has an ungrudging, copious supply of my blood;
     and what he has granted, when he wishes, he himself will take away.
only you—whom surely, I think, I have injured by no crime—
     be now, I pray, content with my evils.

nec tamen, ut cuncti miserum seruare uelitis,
     quod periit, saluum iam caput esse potest.
ut mare considat uentisque ferentibus utar,
     ut mihi parcatis, non minus exul ero.
non ego diuitias auidus sine fine parandi
     latum mutandis mercibus aequor aro,
nec peto, quas quondam petii studiosus, Athenas,
     oppida non Asiae, non loca uisa prius;
non ut Alexandri claram delatus in urbem
     delicias uideam, Nile iocose, tuas.

nor yet, even if you all should wish to preserve the wretched man,
     what has perished, my head, cannot now be safe.
though the sea settle and I use winds that bear me,
     though you spare me, I shall be no less an exile.
I, avid to procure riches without end, do not plow
     the broad level sea for the exchanging of wares,
nor do I seek Athens, which once I sought, studious,
     nor the towns of Asia, nor places not seen before;
not that, borne to Alexander’s famous city,
     I may behold your delights, jocose Nile.

quod faciles opto uentos (quis credere possit?)
     Sarmatis est tellus, quam mea uela petunt.
obligor, ut tangam Laeui fera litora Ponti;
     quodque sit a patria tam fuga tarda, queror.
nescioquo uideam positos ut in orbe Tomitas,
     exilem facio per mea uota uiam.

that I am wishing for easy winds (who could believe it?)—it is Sarmatian land that my sails seek.
I am obliged to touch the savage shores of the Left Pontus; and I complain that my flight from my fatherland is so slow.
so that I may see the Tomitans set I-know-not-where in the world,
I by my vows make the way slender.

seu me diligitis, tantos conpescite fluctus,
     pronaque sint nostrae numina uestra rati;
seu magis odistis, iussae me aduertite terrae:
     supplicii pars est in regione mei.
ferte—quid hic facio?—rapidi mea carbasa uenti!
     Ausonios fines cur mea uela uolunt?

whether you cherish me, restrain such great billows,
     and let your numina be favorable to our craft;
or if you rather detest me, turn me toward land as ordered:
     a part of my punishment is in my own region.
bear—what am I doing here?—swift winds, my canvases!
     why do my sails desire the Ausonian bounds?

noluit hoc Caesar: quid, quem fugat ille, tenetis?
aspiciat uultus Pontica terra meos.
et iubet et merui; nec, quae damnauerit ille,
crimina defendi fasque piumque puto.

Caesar did not wish this: why do you hold the one whom he banishes?
Let the Pontic land behold my face.
And he both commands it, and I have merited it; nor do I think it licit and pious that the crimes which he has condemned be defended.

si tamen acta deos numquam mortalia fallunt,
     a culpa facinus scitis abesse mea.
immo ita, si scitis, si me meus abstulit error,
     stultaque mens nobis non scelerata fuit,
quod licet et minimis, domui si fauimus illi,
     si satis Augusti publica iussa mihi,
hoc duce si dixi felicia saecula, proque
     Caesare tura pius Caesaribusque dedi,—
si fuit hic animus nobis, ita parcite diui!
     si minus, alta cadens obruat unda caput!

if, however, mortal deeds never deceive the gods,
     you know that the criminal deed is absent from my culpability.
nay rather, if you know it thus, if my own error carried me away,
     and my mind for me was foolish, not wicked,
if—what is permitted even to the least—I favored that house,
     if the public commands of Augustus were enough for me,
if with this leader I called the ages happy, and, on behalf of
     Caesar, as a pious man I gave incense to Caesar and the Caesars,—
if this was my animus, thus spare me, O gods!
     if not, let a deep wave, falling, overwhelm my head!

fallor, an incipiunt grauidae uanescere nubes,
uictaque mutati frangitur ira maris?
non casu, uos sed sub condicione uocati,
fallere quos non est, hanc mihi fertis opem.

Am I mistaken, or do the gravid clouds begin to vanish,
and is the ire of the changed sea, conquered, being broken?
not by chance, but you, called under a condition,
whom it is not permitted to deceive, bring me this help.

III

Cum subit illius tristissima noctis imago,
     quae mihi supremum tempus in urbe fuit,
cum repeto noctem, qua tot mihi cara reliqui,
     labitur ex oculis nunc quoque gutta meis.
iam prope lux aderat, qua me discedere Caesar
     finibus extremae iusserat Ausoniae.
nec spatium nec mens fuerat satis apta parandi:
     torpuerant longa pectora nostra mora.

When the image of that most sorrowful night comes up,
     which was for me the final time in the city,
when I recall the night, on which I left behind so many dear to me,
     even now a drop slips from my eyes.
Now the light was almost at hand, on which day Caesar
     had ordered me to depart the confines of farthest Ausonia.
Neither span nor mind had been sufficiently apt for preparing:
     our hearts had grown torpid from the long delay.

non mihi seruorum, comitis non cura legendi,
     non aptae profugo uestis opisue fuit.
non aliter stupui, quam qui Iouis ignibus ictus
     uiuit et est uitae nescius ipse suae.
ut tamen hanc animi nubem dolor ipse remouit,
     et tandem sensus conualuere mei,
alloquor extremum maestos abiturus amicos,
     qui modo de multis unus et alter erat.

not for me was there the care of choosing servants, nor of selecting a companion,
     nor was there a garment apt for an exile or any aid.
i was no otherwise stupefied than one who, struck by the fires of jove,
     lives and is himself unknowing of his own life.
yet when pain itself removed this cloud of my mind,
     and at length my senses convalesced,
i address for the last time my sorrowful friends, about to depart,
     who just now, out of many, were but one or two.

uxor amans flentem flens acrius ipsa tenebat,
     imbre per indignas usque cadente genas.
nata procul Libycis aberat diuersa sub oris,
     nec poterat fati certior esse mei.
quocumque aspiceres, luctus gemitusque sonabant,
     formaque non taciti funeris intus erat.

my loving wife, herself weeping more bitterly, held me as I wept,
     with a rain ever falling down her undeserving cheeks.
my daughter was far away, absent beneath different Libyan shores,
     nor could she be any more certain of my fate.
wherever you might look, mourning and groans resounded,
     and inside there was the form of a funeral not silent.

femina uirque meo, pueri quoque funere maerent,
     inque domo lacrimas angulus omnis habet.
si licet exemplis in paruis grandibus uti,
     haec facies Troiae, cum caperetur, erat.
iamque quiescebant uoces hominumque canumque
     Lunaque nocturnos alta regebat equos.

woman and man mourn at my funeral, and the boys too,
     and in the house every corner holds tears.
if it is permitted to use grand examples in small matters,
     this was the appearance of Troy, when it was being captured.
and now the voices of men and of dogs were falling quiet,
     and the Moon on high was guiding her nocturnal horses.

hanc ego suspiciens et ad hanc Capitolia cernens,
     quae nostro frustra iuncta fuere Lari,
'numina uicinis habitantia sedibus,' inquam,
     'iamque oculis numquam templa uidenda meis,
dique relinquendi, quos urbs habet alta Quirini,
     este salutati tempus in omne mihi.
et quamquam sero clipeum post uulnera sumo,
     attamen hanc odiis exonerate fugam,
caelestique uiro, quis me deceperit error,
     dicite, pro culpa ne scelus esse putet.
ut quod uos scitis, poenae quoque sentiat auctor:
     placato possum non miser esse deo.'
hac prece adoraui superos ego, pluribus uxor,
     singultu medios impediente sonos.

At her I, looking up, and at her discerning the Capitol,
     which had been joined to our Lar in vain,
'the divinities inhabiting neighboring seats,' I say,
     'and now temples never to be seen by my eyes,
and the gods to be left behind, whom the lofty city of Quirinus holds,
     be greeted by me for all time.
and although I take up the shield after wounds too late,
     nevertheless unburden this flight from hatreds,
and to the heavenly man tell what error has deceived me,
     so that he may not think crime instead of fault.
so that he who is the author may also feel punishment for that which you know:
     with the god appeased I can be not wretched.'
With this prayer I adored the gods above—I, my wife with more—
     sobbing hindering the sounds in the midst.

illa etiam ante Lares passis adstrata capillis
     contigit extinctos ore tremente focos,
multaque in auersos effudit uerba Penates
     pro deplorato non ualitura uiro.
iamque morae spatium nox praecipitata negabat,
     uersaque ab axe suo Parrhasis Arctos erat.
quid facerem?

she also, before the Lares, with hair spread, prostrate,
     with trembling mouth touched the extinguished hearths,
and many words she poured out to the averse Penates
     not going to avail for the man deplored as lost.
and now the headlong night denied a span for delay,
     and the Parrhasian Bear had been turned from its own axis.
what was i to do?

blando patriae retinebar amore,
     ultima sed iussae nox erat illa fugae.
a! quotiens aliquo dixi properante 'quid urges?
     uel quo festinas ire, uel unde, uide.'
a! quotiens certam me sum mentitus habere
     horam, propositae quae foret apta uiae.

i was held back by the coaxing love of my fatherland,
     but that was the last night of the ordered flight.
ah! how often did I say to someone hurrying, 'why do you urge?
     or see whither you hasten to go, or whence.'
ah! how often I pretended that I had a fixed hour,
     which would be apt for the proposed journey.

ter limen tetigi, ter sum reuocatus, et ipse
     indulgens animo pes mihi tardus erat.
saepe 'uale' dicto rursus sum multa locutus,
     et quasi discedens oscula summa dedi.
saepe eadem mandata dedi meque ipse fefelli,
     respiciens oculis pignora cara meis.

Thrice I touched the threshold, thrice I was recalled, and the foot itself
     indulging my mind, was tardy for me.
Often, with 'farewell' said, again I spoke many things,
     and as if departing I gave final kisses.
Often I gave the same commands and I even deceived myself,
     looking back with my eyes at pledges dear to me.

denique 'quid propero? Scythia est, quo mittimur', inquam,
     'Roma relinquenda est, utraque iusta mora.
uxor in aeternum uiuo mihi uiua negatur,
     et domus et fidae dulcia membra domus,
quosque ego dilexi fraterno more sodales,
     o mihi Thesea pectora iuncta fide!

finally, 'why do I hasten? It is Scythia to which we are sent,' I say,
     'Rome must be left; both are just causes for delay.
my wife, alive, is denied to me, I being alive, forever,
     and my home, and the sweet members of my faithful house,
and the comrades whom I cherished in a brotherly manner,
     O hearts to me joined with a Thesean faith!

dum licet, amplectar: numquam fortasse licebit
     amplius; in lucro est quae datur hora mihi.'
nec mora sermonis uerba inperfecta relinquo,
     complectens animo proxima quaeque meo.
dum loquor et flemus, caelo nitidissimus alto,
     stella grauis nobis, Lucifer ortus erat.
diuidor haud aliter, quam si mea membra relinquam,
     et pars abrumpi corpore uisa suo est.

'while it is permitted, let me embrace: perhaps it will never be permitted
     any more; the hour that is given to me is lucre.'
nor was there delay: I do not leave the words of my discourse unfinished,
     embracing in my mind whatever things are nearest to me.
while I speak and we weep, in the high heaven the most shining,
     a star grievous to us, Lucifer, had risen.
I am divided in no other way than if I were leaving my limbs,
     and a part seemed to be torn from its own body.

sic doluit Mettus tum cum in contraria uersos
     ultores habuit proditionis equos.
tum uero exoritur clamor gemitusque meorum,
     et feriunt maestae pectora nuda manus.
tum uero coniunx umeris abeuntis inhaerens
     miscuit haec lacrimis tristia uerba suis:
'non potes auelli: simul ah! simul ibimus', inquit,
     'te sequar et coniunx exulis exul ero.

so Mettus grieved then, when he had the avenging horses of his treachery turned to opposite sides,
     avengers of betrayal.
then indeed a clamor and the groaning of my people arises,
     and sad bare hands smite their breasts.
then indeed my wife, clinging to my shoulders as I was going,
     mixed these sad words with her tears:
'you cannot be torn away: together—ah! together we shall go,' she said,
     'I will follow you, and, the wife of an exile, I shall be an exile.'

et mihi facta uia est, et me capit ultima tellus:
     accedam profugae sarcina parua rati.
te iubet e patria discedere Caesaris ira,
     me pietas: pietas haec mihi Caesar erit.'
talia temptabat, sicut temptauerat ante,
     uixque dedit uictas utilitate manus.
egredior (siue illud erat sine funere ferri?)
     squalidus inmissis hirta per ora comis.

and a way has been made for me too, and the farthest land receives me:
     I will join as a small burden to the fugitive raft.
Caesar’s wrath bids you depart from your fatherland,
     me piety: this piety shall be my Caesar.'
She was attempting such things, just as she had attempted before,
     and scarcely gave hands, conquered by expediency.
I go forth (or was that to be borne without a funeral?),
     squalid, with hair let grow, shaggy over my face.

illa dolore amens tenebris narratur obortis
     semianimis media procubuisse domo,
utque resurrexit foedatis puluere turpi
     crinibus et gelida membra leuauit humo,
se modo, desertos modo complorasse Penates,
     nomen et erepti saepe uocasse uiri,
nec gemuisse minus, quam si nataeque meumque
     uidisset structos corpus habere rogos,
et uoluisse mali moriendo ponere sensum,
     respectuque tamen non potuisse mei.
uiuat et absentem, quoniam sic fata tulerunt,
     uiuat ut auxilio subleuet usque suo.

she, out of her senses with grief, is reported, with darkness having arisen,
     half-alive to have fallen prostrate in the middle of the house,
and when she rose, with her tresses befouled with base dust,
     she lifted her chilled limbs from the cold ground,
and now herself, now the deserted Penates, she is said to have bewailed,
     and often to have called the name of her husband rapt away,
nor to have groaned less than if she had seen pyres constructed
     to hold both her daughter’s body and my own,
and to have wished, by dying, to lay down the sense of her ill,
     and yet, out of regard for me, not to have been able.
let her live, and, though I am absent—since thus the Fates have borne—
     let her live, that she may ever succor by her own aid.

Tingitur oceano custos Erymanthidos ursae,
aequoreasque suo sidere turbat aquas.
nos tamen Ionium non nostra findimus aequor
sponte, sed audaces cogimur esse metu.
me miserum!

The guardian of the Erymanthian she-bear is dipped in the ocean,
and with his own star he disturbs the sea-waters.
we, however, do not cleave the Ionian sea by our own will,
but are compelled by fear to be bold.
wretched me!

quantis increscunt aequora uentis,
     erutaque ex imis feruet harena fretis!
monte nec inferior prorae puppique recuruae
     insilit et pictos uerberat unda deos.
pinea texta sonant pulsu, stridore rudentes,
     ingemit et nostris ipsa carina malis.

by how great winds the seas swell,
     and the sand, dug up from the deepest straits, seethes!
a wave, no lower than a mountain, leaps upon the prow and the curving stern,
     and lashes the painted gods.
the pinewood framework resounds with the pounding, the ropes with a screech,
     and the keel itself groans at our woes.

nauita confessus gelidum pallore timorem,
     iam sequitur uictus, non regit arte ratem.
utque parum ualidus non proficientia rector
     ceruicis rigidae frena remittit equo,
sic non quo uoluit, sed quo rapit impetus undae,
     aurigam uideo uela dedisse rati.
quod nisi mutatas emiserit Aeolus auras,
     in loca iam nobis non adeunda ferar.

the sailor, by his pallor confessing icy fear,
     now, overcome, follows; he does not rule the ship by art.
and as a driver, too little strong and not succeeding,
     loosens the reins to a stiff-necked horse,
so, not where he wished, but where the impetus of the wave snatches,
     I see the charioteer of the ship has given it over to the sails.
and unless Aeolus sends forth altered winds,
     I shall now be borne into places not to be approached by us.

nam procul Illyriis laeua de parte relictis
     interdicta mihi cernitur Italia.
desinat in uetitas quaeso contendere terras,
     et mecum magno pareat aura deo.
dum loquor et timeo pariter cupioque repelli,
     increpuit quantis uiribus unda latus!

for, with the Illyrians left far off on the left side,
     Italy is discerned as interdicted to me.
let it cease, I pray, to contend toward forbidden lands,
     and let the breeze obey with me the great god.
while I speak and fear, I equally desire to be driven back,
     with how great forces the wave has smitten the side!

parcite caerulei uos parcite numina ponti,
infestumque mihi sit satis esse Iouem.
uos animam saeuae fessam subducite morti,
si modo, qui periit, non periisse potest.

spare me, you cerulean powers of the sea, spare,
and let it be enough that Jove be hostile to me.
you withdraw my soul, weary, from savage death,
if only he who has perished can not have perished.

O mihi post nullos umquam memorande sodales,
     et cui praecipue sors mea uisa sua est;
attonitum qui me, memini, carissime, primus
     ausus es alloquio sustinuisse tuo,
qui mihi consilium uiuendi mite dedisti,
     cum foret in misero pectore mortis amor.
scis bene, cui dicam, positis pro nomine signis,
     officium nec te fallit, amice, tuum.
haec mihi semper erunt imis infixa medullis,
     perpetuusque animae debitor huius ero:
spiritus in uacuas prius hic tenuandus in auras
     ibit, et in tepido deseret ossa rogo,
quam subeant animo meritorum obliuia nostro,
     et longa pietas excidat ista die.

O you, to be remembered by me second to none of comrades,
     and to whom especially my lot seemed as your own;
who, I remember, dearest, first dared
     to sustain me, thunderstruck, by your address,
who gave to me a gentle counsel for living,
     when in my wretched breast there was a love of death.
you know well to whom I speak, with signs set down in place of a name,
     nor does your office escape you, friend.
these things will always be fixed for me in my inmost marrows,
     and I shall be the perpetual debtor to this soul:
my spirit shall first go to be made tenuous into empty airs,
     and will forsake the bones on the tepid pyre,
than that oblivion of your merits should come upon my mind,
     and that long piety should fall away on that day.

di tibi sint faciles, et opis nullius egentem
     fortunam praestent dissimilemque meae.
si tamen haec nauis uento ferretur amico,
     ignoraretur forsitan ista fides.
Thesea Pirithous non tam sensisset amicum,
     si non infernas uiuus adisset aquas.

may the gods be favorable to you, and may they bestow a fortune needing the aid of no one
     and unlike my own.
if, however, this ship were borne by a friendly wind,
     perhaps that fidelity would be unknown.
Pirithous would not have felt Theseus so much a friend,
     if he had not, alive, approached the infernal waters.

ut foret exemplum ueri Phoceus amoris,
     fecerunt furiae, tristis Oresta, tuae.
si non Euryalus Rutulos cecidisset in hostes,
     Hyrtacidae Nisi gloria nulla foret.
scilicet ut flauum spectatur in ignibus aurum,
     tempore sic duro est inspicienda fides.

so that there might be an example of true Phocian love,
     your Furies, sorrowful Orestes, made it.
if Euryalus had not fallen among the Rutulian enemies,
     there would be no glory for Nisus, son of Hyrtacus.
surely, as yellow gold is beheld in the fires,
     so in harsh time fidelity is to be examined.

dum iuuat et uultu ridet Fortuna sereno,
     indelibatas cuncta sequuntur opes:
at simul intonuit, fugiunt, nec noscitur ulli,
     agminibus comitum qui modo cinctus erat.
atque haec, exemplis quondam collecta priorum,
     nunc mihi sunt propriis cognita uera malis.
uix duo tresue mihi de tot superestis amici:
     cetera Fortunae, non mea turba fuit.

while it pleases, and Fortune smiles with a serene countenance,
     all wealth follows undiminished:
but as soon as she has thundered, they flee, nor is he recognized by anyone,
     he who but now was girded with ranks of companions.
and these things, once collected from the examples of the former,
     now are to me known as true by my own ills.
hardly two or three of so many friends survive to me:
     the rest were Fortune’s throng, not mine.

quo magis, o pauci, rebus succurrite laesis,
     et date naufragio litora tuta meo,
neue metu falso nimium trepidate, timentes
     hac offendatur ne pietate deus.
saepe fidem aduersis etiam laudauit in armis,
     inque suis amat hanc Caesar, in hoste probat.
causa mea est melior, qui non contraria foui
     arma, sed hanc merui simplicitate fugam.

O all the more, O few, succor my injured fortunes,
     and grant safe shores to my shipwreck,
nor, through false fear, be too alarmed, fearing
     lest a god be offended by this piety.
often he has praised loyalty even in adverse arms,
     and Caesar loves this in his own, he approves it in the foe.
My cause is the better, I who did not foster opposing
     arms, but by my simplicity have deserved this exile.

inuigiles igitur nostris pro casibus, oro,
     deminui siqua numinis ira potest.
scire meos casus siquis desiderat omnes,
     plus, quam quod fieri res sinit, ille petit.
tot mala sum passus, quot in aethere sidera lucent
     paruaque quot siccus corpora puluis habet;
multaque credibili tulimus maiora ratamque,
     quamuis acciderint, non habitura fidem.

So keep vigil, then, on behalf of my fortunes, I beg,
     if in any way the wrath of the divinity can be diminished.
If anyone desires to know all my misfortunes,
     he asks more than the situation allows to be done.
So many ills have I suffered as stars shine in the aether,
     and as many small bodies as dry dust contains;
and I have borne many things greater than credible—things which,
     although they have happened, will not have ratified credence.

pars etiam quaedam mecum moriatur oportet,
     meque uelim possit dissimulante tegi.
si uox infragilis, pectus mihi firmius aere,
     pluraque cum linguis pluribus ora forent,
non tamen idcirco complecterer omnia uerbis,
     materia uires exsuperante meas.
pro duce Neritio docti mala nostra poetae
     scribite: Neritio nam mala plura tuli.

some part too ought to die with me,
     and I would wish that I could be hidden by your dissimulation.
if my voice were unbreakable, my breast firmer than bronze,
     and if there were more mouths along with more tongues,
not even then could I encompass everything in words,
     the material surpassing my powers.
in place of the Neritian leader, learned poets, write our ills:
     for more ills than the Neritian I have borne.

ille breui spatio multis errauit in annis
     inter Dulichias Iliacasque domos:
nos freta sideribus totis distantia mensos
     sors tulit in Geticos Sarmaticosque sinus.
ille habuit fidamque manum sociosque fideles:
     me profugum comites deseruere mei.
ille suam laetus patriam uictorque petebat:
     a patria fugi uictus et exul ego.

he in a short span wandered for many years
     between Dulichian and Iliac homes:
we, having measured seas distant by the whole spread of the stars,
     fate bore into Getic and Sarmatian bays.
he had a trusty band and faithful comrades;
     me, a fugitive, my companions deserted.
he, joyful and a victor, made for his own fatherland;
     from my fatherland I fled, conquered and an exile.

nec mihi Dulichium domus est Ithaceue Samosue,
     poena quibus non est grandis abesse locis,
sed quae de septem totum circumspicit orbem
     montibus, imperii Roma deumque locus.
illi corpus erat durum patiensque laborum:
     inualidae uires ingenuaeque mihi.
ille erat assidue saeuis agitatus in armis:
     adsuetus studiis mollibus ipse fui.

nor is Dulichium my home, nor Ithaca or Samos,
     for whom it is no great penalty to be absent from their places,
but that which from seven hills surveys the whole orb,
     Rome, the place of empire and of the gods.
to him the body was hard and enduring of labors;
     to me the powers are weak and inborn.
he was continually driven amid savage arms;
     I myself was accustomed to soft studies.

me deus oppressit, nullo mala nostra leuante:
     bellatrix illi diua ferebat opem.
cumque minor Ioue sit tumidis qui regnat in undis,
     illum Neptuni, me Iouis ira premit.
adde, quod illius pars maxima ficta laborum,
     ponitur in nostris fabula nulla malis.

a god has crushed me, with no one relieving our evils:
     to him the warlike goddess was bringing aid.
and although he who rules upon the swollen waves is lesser than Jove,
     him Neptune’s, me Jove’s wrath presses.
add, too, that the greatest part of his labors is feigned,
     in our misfortunes no fable is placed.

denique quaesitos tetigit tamen ille Penates,
quaeque diu petiit, contigit arua tamen:
at mihi perpetuo patria tellure carendum est,
ni fuerit laesi mollior ira dei.

at last he touched the sought Penates,
and the fields which he long sought, he reached nevertheless:
but for me I must be without my native land’s soil forever,
unless the anger of the injured god grow softer.

Nec tantum Clario est Lyde dilecta poetae,
     nec tantum Coo Bittis amata suo est,
pectoribus quantum tu nostris, uxor, inhaeres,
     digna minus misero, non meliore uiro.
te mea supposita ueluti trabe fulta ruina est:
     siquid adhuc ego sum, muneris omne tui est.
tu facis, ut spolium non sim, nec nuder ab illis,
     naufragii tabulas qui petiere mei.

Nor is Lyde so beloved to the Clarian poet,
     nor is Coan Bittis so loved by her own,
as much as you, wife, cling to my heart,
     less fitting for a wretched man, not for a better husband.
my ruin is propped, as if by a beam set beneath, by you:
     if I am anything still, the whole is your gift.
you make it that I am not a spoil, nor am I stripped by those,
     who have sought the planks of my shipwreck.

utque rapax stimulante fame cupidusque cruoris
     incustoditum captat ouile lupus,
aut ut edax uultur corpus circumspicit ecquod
     sub nulla positum cernere possit humo,
sic mea nescioquis, rebus male fidus acerbis
     in bona uenturus, si paterere, fuit.
hunc tua per fortis uirtus summouit amicos,
     nulla quibus reddi gratia digna potest.
ergo quam misero, tam uero teste probaris,
     hic aliquod pondus si modo testis habet.

and as a rapacious wolf, with hunger goading and greedy for gore,
     snatches at an unguarded sheepfold,
or as an edacious vulture looks around to see whether any body
     it can discern laid under no earth,
so some i-know-not-who, ill-faithful to my bitter circumstances,
     was going to come upon my goods, if you allowed it.
this man your valor, through brave friends, has driven away—
     to whom no gratitude worthy can be repaid.
therefore, by as wretched, so by a true witness you are proven,
     here, if only a witness has any weight.

nec probitate tua prior est aut Hectoris uxor,
     aut comes extincto Laodamia uiro.
tu si Maeonium uatem sortita fuisses,
     Penelopes esset fama secunda tuae:
siue tibi hoc debes, nullo pia facta magistro,
     cumque noua mores sunt tibi luce dati,
femina seu princeps omnes tibi culta per annos
     te docet exemplum coniugis esse bonae,
adsimilemque sui longa adsuetudine fecit,
     grandia si paruis adsimilare licet.
ei mihi, non magnas quod habent mea carmina uires,
     nostraque sunt meritis ora minora tuis,
siquid et in nobis uiui fuit ante uigoris,
     exstinctum longis occidit omne malis!

nor in your probity is there anyone prior, either Hector’s wife,
     or Laodamia, companion to her slain husband.
if you had been allotted the Maeonian bard as your poet,
     Penelope’s fame would be second to yours:
whether you owe this to yourself—pious deeds with no teacher—
     and with your first light your morals were given to you,
or a leading woman, cultured through all her years,
     teaches you by example to be a good spouse,
and by long habituation has assimilated you to herself,
     if it is permitted to assimilate great things to small.
alas for me, that my songs do not have great forces,
     and that our speech is lesser than your merits,
and if there was any living vigor in me before,
     extinct, all has perished by long evils!

prima locum sanctas heroidas inter haberes,
prima bonis animi conspicerere tui.
quantumcumque tamen praeconia nostra ualebunt,
carminibus uiues tempus in omne meis.

you would hold first place among the sacred heroines,
first you would be conspicuous for the virtues of your spirit.
however much, nevertheless, my proclamations will avail,
you will live for all time in my poems.

VII

Si quis habes nostri similes in imagine uultus,
     deme meis hederas, Bacchica serta, comis.
ista decent laetos felicia signa poetas:
     temporibus non est apta corona meis.
hoc tibi dissimula, senti tamen, optime, dici,
     in digito qui me fersque refersque tuo,
effigiemque meam fuluo complexus in auro
     cara relegati, quae potes, ora uides.

If you have in an image a face like mine,
     remove from my hair the ivy, the Bacchic garlands.
Those happy signs befit joyful poets;
     a crown is not apt to my times.
Conceal this for yourself, yet feel, best of men, that it is being said,
     you who on your finger bear me and bear me back again,
and, my effigy embraced in fulvous gold,
     you see, as you can, the dear face of the relegated.

quae quotiens spectas, subeat tibi dicere forsan
     'quam procul a nobis Naso sodalis abest!'
grata tua est pietas, sed carmina maior imago
     sunt mea, quae mando qualiacumque legas,
carmina mutatas hominum dicentia formas,
     infelix domini quod fuga rupit opus.
haec ego discedens, sicut bene multa meorum,
     ipse mea posui maestus in igne manu.
utque cremasse suum fertur sub stipite natum
     Thestias et melior matre fuisse soror,
sic ego non meritos mecum peritura libellos
     imposui rapidis uiscera nostra rogis:
uel quod eram Musas, ut crimina nostra, perosus,
     uel quod adhuc crescens et rude carmen erat.

which, as often as you behold them, may it perhaps come to you to say
     'how far from us Naso, our companion, is away!'
welcome is your piety, but a greater image
     are my songs, which I send, whatever they are, for you to read,
songs telling of the changed forms of men,
     a work which the unhappy flight of its master broke.
these I, departing, just as very many of my things,
     I myself, sorrowful, placed with my own hand in the fire.
and as Thestias is said to have burned her own son beneath a billet,
     and that the sister was better than the mother,
so I, undeserving, the little books destined to perish with me,
     set upon the swift pyres our viscera:
either because I had come to hate the Muses, as I do my crimes,
     or because the poem was still growing and unpolished.

quae quoniam non sunt penitus sublata, sed extant
     (pluribus exemplis scripta fuisse reor),
nunc precor ut uiuant et non ignaua legentem
     otia delectent admoneantque mei.
nec tamen illa legi poterunt patienter ab ullo,
     nesciet his summam siquis abesse manum.
ablatum mediis opus est incudibus illud,
     defuit et coeptis ultima lima meis.

since these have not been utterly removed, but stand forth
     (I suppose they were written in several exemplars),
now I pray that they may live and that not-idle leisure may delight the reader
     and may remind him of me.
and yet they will not be able to be read patiently by anyone,
     unless one knows that the finishing hand is absent from these.
that work was taken away from the anvils in mid-course,
     and the last file was lacking to my beginnings.

et ueniam pro laude peto, laudatus abunde,
     non fastiditus si tibi, lector, ero.
hos quoque sex uersus, in prima fronte libelli
     si praeponendos esse putabis, habe:
'orba parente suo quicumque uolumina tangis,
     his saltem uestra detur in urbe locus.
quoque magis faueas, non haec sunt edita ab ipso,
     sed quasi de domini funere rapta sui.

and I ask for pardon in place of praise, praised abundantly,
     if to you, reader, I shall not be distasteful.
take also these six verses, on the front page of the little book,
     if you will think they ought to be set in front:
'whoever touches the volumes orphaned of their parent,
     let at least a place be given them in your city.
and that you may favor them the more, these are not issued by himself,
     but as if snatched from the funeral of their own master.

quicquid in his igitur uitii rude carmen habebit,
emendaturus, si licuisset, eram.'

Whatever, therefore, of fault in these the rough poem will have,
I was going to emend it, if it had been permitted.'

VIII

In caput alta suum labentur ab aequore retro
     flumina, conuersis Solque recurret equis:
terra feret stellas, caelum findetur aratro,
     unda dabit flammas, et dabit ignis aquas,
omnia naturae praepostera legibus ibunt,
     parsque suum mundi nulla tenebit iter,
omnia iam fient, fieri quae posse negabam,
     et nihil est, de quo non sit habenda fides.
haec ego uaticinor, quia sum deceptus ab illo,
     laturum misero quem mihi rebar opem.
tantane te, fallax, cepere obliuia nostri,
     adflictumque fuit tantus adire timor,
ut neque respiceres nec solarere iacentem,
     dure, neque exequias prosequerere meas?

Onto their own head the deep rivers will glide back from the sea,
     and the Sun will run back with his horses reversed:
the earth will bear stars, the sky will be cleft by the plow,
     the wave will give forth flames, and fire will give waters,
all things will go preposterous to the laws of nature,
     and no part of the world will hold to its own course,
now everything will come to pass, which I was denying could happen,
     and there is nothing about which faith should not be had.
these things I prophesy, because I have been deceived by him
     whom I thought would bring aid to wretched me.
Have such great forgetfulness of me seized you, deceitful one,
     and was there so great a fear to approach the afflicted,
that you neither looked back nor gave solace to one lying low,
     hard one, nor did you attend my exequies?

illud amicitiae sanctum et uenerabile nomen
     re tibi pro uili sub pedibusque iacet?
quid fuit, ingenti prostratum mole sodalem
     uisere et alloquio parte leuare tuo,
inque meos si non lacrimam demittere casus,
     pauca tamen ficto uerba dolore pati,
idque, quod ignoti faciunt uel dicere saltem,
     et uocem populi publicaque ora sequi?
denique lugubres uultus numquamque uidendos
     cernere supremo dum licuitque die,
dicendumque semel toto non amplius aeuo
     accipere et parili reddere uoce 'uale'?
at fecere alii nullo mihi foedere iuncti,
     et lacrimas animi signa dedere sui.

does that sacred and venerable name of friendship
     in reality lie for you as something cheap and beneath your feet?
what would it have been, to visit a comrade prostrated by a huge weight,
     and to lighten him in part by your colloquy,
and, if not to let a tear fall for my misfortunes,
     yet to endure a few words with feigned grief,
and that which even strangers do, at least to say it,
     and to follow the voice of the people and the public mouths?
finally to behold the mournful looks, never to be seen again,
     while it was permitted on the last day,
and to receive—and return with a matching voice—the word to be spoken once,
     and no more in an entire lifetime: 'farewell'?
but others did it, bound to me by no covenant,
     and gave tears, tokens of their spirit.

quid, nisi conuictu causisque ualentibus essem
     temporis et longi uinctus amore tibi?
quid, nisi tot lusus et tot mea seria nosses,
     tot nossem lusus seriaque ipse tua?
quid, si dumtaxat Romae mihi cognitus esses,
     adscitus totiens in genus omne loci?

what, unless I were by convivial fellowship and by weighty causes
     bound to you by the love of long time?
what, unless you knew so many of my jests and so many of my serious matters,
     and I myself knew so many of your jests and serious matters?
what, if you had been known to me only at Rome,
     admitted so often into every kind of circle of the place?

cunctane in aequoreos abierunt irrita uentos?
     cunctane Lethaeis mersa feruntur aquis?
non ego te genitum placida reor urbe Quirini,
     urbe, meo quae iam non adeunda pede est,
sed scopulis, Ponti quos haec habet ora sinistri,
     inque feris Scythiae Sarmaticisque iugis:
et tua sunt silicis circum praecordia uenae,
     et rigidum ferri semina pectus habet,
quaeque tibi quondam tenero ducenda palato
     plena dedit nutrix ubera, tigris erat:
aut mala nostra minus quam nunc aliena putares,
     duritiaeque mihi non agerere reus.

Have all things, ineffectual, gone off into the sea-winds?
     Have all things, submerged, been borne away in Lethean waters?
I do not suppose you were born in the placid city of Quirinus,
     a city which now is not to be approached by my foot,
but on the crags which this coast of the sinister Pontus possesses,
     and on the wild ridges of Scythia and Sarmatia:
and veins of flint are around your vitals,
     and your breast holds the seeds of rigid iron,
and the nurse who once gave full breasts, to be drawn by your tender palate,
     was a tigress:
or else you would reckon my ills less alien than now,
     and you would not be arraigned as guilty of hardness toward me.

sed quoniam accedit fatalibus hoc quoque damnis,
ut careant numeris tempora prima suis,
effice, peccati ne sim memor huius, et illo
officium laudem, quo queror, ore tuum.

but since to the fatal damages this too is added,
that the earliest times are lacking their own numbers,
bring it about that I not be mindful of this sin, and with that
mouth with which I complain, let me laud your service.

Detur inoffenso uitae tibi tangere metam,
     qui legis hoc nobis non inimicus opus.
atque utinam pro te possint mea uota ualere,
     quae pro me duros non tetigere deos!
donec eris sospes, multos numerabis amicos:
     tempora si fuerint nubila, solus eris.

May it be granted you to touch the goal of life without a stumble,
     you who read this work not inimical to us.
And would that my vows might avail for you,
     which on my behalf did not touch the harsh gods!
So long as you are safe and sound, you will count many friends:
     if the times should be cloudy, you will be alone.

aspicis, ut ueniant ad candida tecta columbae,
     accipiat nullas sordida turris aues.
horrea formicae tendunt ad inania numquam:
     nullus ad amissas ibit amicus opes.
utque comes radios per solis euntibus umbra est,
     cum latet hic pressus nubibus, illa fugit,
mobile sic sequitur Fortunae lumina uulgus:
     quae simul inducta nocte teguntur, abit.

Do you see how doves come to white roofs,
     a sordid tower receives no birds.
Ants never make for empty granaries:
     no friend will go to wealth once lost.
And as a companion the shadow is along the sun’s rays as they go,
     when he lies hidden, pressed by clouds, that one flees,
so the mobile crowd follows the lights of Fortune:
     but as soon as these are covered by night drawn over, it departs.

haec precor ut semper possint tibi falsa uideri:
     sunt tamen euentu uera fatenda meo.
dum stetimus, turbae quantum satis esset, habebat
     nota quidem, sed non ambitiosa domus.
at simul impulsa est, omnes timuere ruinam,
     cautaque communi terga dedere fugae.

I pray that these things may always be able to seem false to you:
     they are nevertheless, by my outcome, to be confessed true.
while I stood, my house had as much as would suffice for a crowd—
     well-known indeed, but not ambitious, a house.
but as soon as it was struck, all feared a ruin,
     and, cautious, they gave their backs to a common flight.

saeua neque admiror metuunt si fulmina, quorum
     ignibus adflari proxima quaeque solent.
sed tamen in duris remanentem rebus amicum
     quamlibet inuiso Caesar in hoste probat,
nec solet irasci—neque enim moderatior alter—
     cum quis in aduersis, siquid amauit, amat.
de comite Argolici postquam cognouit Orestae,
     narratur Pyladen ipse probasse Thoas.

I do not marvel if they fear savage lightning-bolts, by whose fires whatever is nearest is wont to be afflated.
But yet Caesar approves, even in a hated enemy, a friend remaining in hard circumstances,
nor is he wont to be angry—for no one is more moderate—when someone in adversities loves what he has loved, if he has loved anything.
After he learned about the companion of Argolic Orestes, Thoas himself is said to have approved Pylades.

quae fuit Actoridae cum magno semper Achille,
     laudari solita est Hectoris ore fides.
quod pius ad Manes Theseus comes iret amico,
     Tartareum dicunt indoluisse deum.
Euryali Nisique fide tibi, Turne, relata
     credibile est lacrimis inmaduisse genas.

the fidelity which the son of Actor had ever with great Achilles,
     was accustomed to be lauded by Hector’s mouth.
that pious Theseus would go to the Manes as a companion to a friend,
     they say the Tartarean god felt grief at it.
at the fidelity of Euryalus and Nisus reported back to you, Turnus,
     it is credible that your cheeks were moistened with tears.

est etiam in miseris pietas, et in hoste probatur.
     ei mihi, quam paucos haec mea dicta mouent!
is status, haec rerum nunc est fortuna mearum,
     debeat ut lacrimis nullus adesse modus;
at mea sunt, proprio quamuis maestissima casu,
     pectora processu facta serena tuo.

there is even among the wretched piety, and in an enemy it is approved.
     alas for me, how few these my words move!
such is the condition, such now is the fortune of my affairs,
     that there ought to be no limit set to tears;
but my breast, although most sorrowful at my own mischance,
     has been made serene by your progress.

hoc ego uenturum iam tum, carissime, uidi,
     ferret adhuc istam cum minor aura ratem.
siue aliquod morum seu uitae labe carentis
     est pretium, nemo pluris emendus erat:
siue per ingenuas aliquis caput extulit artes,
     quaelibet eloquio fit bona causa tuo.
his ego commotus dixi tibi protinus ipsi
     'scaena manet dotes grandis, amice, tuas.'
haec mihi non ouium fibrae tonitrusue sinistri,
     linguaue seruatae pennaue dixit auis:
augurium ratio est et coniectura futuri:
     hac diuinaui notitiamque tuli.

I saw this would come already then, dearest,
     when a lesser breeze still bore that ship.
whether there is any price for character or for a life lacking stain,
     no one was to be bought for more:
whether someone has raised his head by the liberal arts,
     any cause whatsoever becomes good by your eloquence.
moved by these things I said at once to you yourself
     'the stage awaits your great endowments, friend.'
this the entrails of sheep nor the thunder of the left,
     nor the tongue or wing of a kept bird told to me:
my augury is reason and conjecture of the future:
     by this I divined and I bore away knowledge.

quae quoniam uera est, tota tibi mente mihique
gratulor, ingenium non latuisse tuum.
at nostrum tenebris utinam latuisset in imis!
expediit studio lumen abesse meo.

Since this is true, with my whole mind I congratulate you—and myself—that your genius has not lain hidden.
But would that mine had lain hidden in the deepest darkness!
It would have been expedient for the light to be absent from my pursuit.

utque tibi prosunt artes, facunde, seuerae,
     dissimiles illis sic nocuere mihi.
uita tamen tibi nota mea est; scis artibus illis
     auctoris mores abstinuisse sui;
scis uetus hoc iuueni lusum mihi carmen, et istos,
     ut non laudandos, sic tamen esse iocos.
ergo ut defendi nullo mea posse colore,
     sic excusari crimina posse puto.

and as the severe arts profit you, eloquent one,
     so, unlike them, they thus harmed me.
yet my life is known to you; you know that by those arts
     the morals of their author abstained;
you know this song was an old sport to me as a young man, and that these
     though not to be praised, are nevertheless jests.
therefore, just as my things cannot be defended by any color,
     so I think the charges can be excused.

qua potes, excusa, nec amici desere causam:
qua bene coepisti, sic bene semper eas.

In whatever way you can, excuse me, and do not desert a friend’s cause:
as you have well begun, so proceed well always.

Est mihi sitque, precor, flauae tutela Mineruae,
     nauis et a picta casside nomen habet.
siue opus est uelis, minimam bene currit ad auram
     siue opus est remo, remige carpit iter.
nec comites uolucri contenta est uincere cursu,
     occupat egressas quamlibet ante rates,
et pariter fluctus ferit atque silentia longe
     aequora, nec saeuis uicta madescit aquis.

There is to me, and may there be, I pray, the tutelage of golden-haired Minerva,
     and the ship has its name from a painted casque.
whether there is need of sails, it runs well to the slightest breeze,
     or if there is need of the oar, with the rower it makes way.
nor is it content to outstrip its companions with a swift course,
     it overtakes ships that have put out before, however many,
and equally it strikes the waves and the silent level seas far and wide
     nor, vanquished by savage waters, does it grow wet.

illa, Corinthiacis primum mihi cognita Cenchreis,
     fida manet trepidae duxque comesque fugae,
perque tot euentus et iniquis concita uentis
     aequora Palladio numine tuta fuit.
nunc quoque tuta, precor, uasti secet ostia Ponti,
     quasque petit, Getici litoris intret aquas.
quae simul Aeoliae mare me deduxit in Helles,
     et longum tenui limite fecit iter,
fleximus in laeuum cursus, et ab Hectoris urbe
     uenimus ad portus, Imbria terra, tuos.

She, first known to me at Corinthian Cenchreae,
     remains faithful, both leader and companion of my trembling flight,
and through so many events, though the waters were stirred by adverse winds,
     by the Palladian numen she was safe.
Now too, safe, I pray, let her cut the mouths of the vast Pontus,
     and enter the waters of the Getic shore which she seeks.
which, as soon as she led me over the Aeolian sea into the Hellespont,
     made a long journey on a slender track,
we bent our course to the left, and from the city of Hector
     we came to your harbors, Imbrian land.

inde, leui uento Zerynthia litora nacta,
     Threiciam tetigit fessa carina Samon.
saltus ab hac contra breuis est Tempyra petenti:
     hac dominum tenus est illa secuta suum.
nam mihi Bistonios placuit pede carpere campos:
     Hellespontiacas illa relegit aquas,
Dardaniamque petit, auctoris nomen habentem,
     et te ruricola, Lampsace, tuta deo,
quodque per angustas uectae male uirginis undas
     Seston Abydena separat urbe fretum,
inque Propontiacis haerentem Cyzicon oris,
     Cyzicon, Haemoniae nobile gentis opus,
quaeque tenent Ponti Byzantia litora fauces:
     hic locus est gemini ianua uasta maris.

thence, having with a light wind reached the Zerynthian shores,
     the weary keel touched Thracian Samothrace.
opposite from this, for one seeking Tempyra, the pass is short:
     by this way that one followed its master only so far.
for it pleased me to tread on foot the Bistonian fields:
     that one retraced the Hellespontic waters,
and makes for Dardania, bearing its founder’s name,
     and you, Lampsacus, safe by the country-dwelling god,
and the strait which through the narrow waves of the maiden ill-borne
     separates Sestos from the city of Abydos,
and Cyzicus clinging to the Propontic shores,
     Cyzicus, the noble work of the Haemonian race,
and the Byzantian narrows which hold the shores of the Pontus:
     this place is the vast doorway of the twin seas.

haec, precor, euincat, propulsaque fortibus Austris
     transeat instabilis strenua Cyaneas
Thyniacosque sinus, et ab his per Apollinis urbem
     arta sub Anchiali moenia tendat iter.
inde Mesembriacos portus et Odeson et arces
     praetereat dictas nomine, Bacche, tuo,
et quos Alcathoi memorant e moenibus ortos
     sedibus his profugos constituisse Larem.
a quibus adueniat Miletida sospes ad urbem,
     offensi quo me detulit ira dei.

may this one, I pray, prevail, and, propelled by strong South winds,
     may she, strenuous, cross the unstable Cyanean rocks,
and the Thynian bays; and from these, through the city of Apollo,
     let her aim her course beneath the tight walls at Anchiale.
then let her pass the Mesembrian ports and Odessus and the citadels
     called by your name, Bacchus,
and those whom they recount as sprung from the walls of Alcathous
     to have established, as fugitives, a Lar in these seats.
from which may she arrive safe at the Milesian city,
     to which the anger of an offended god has borne me.

haec si contigerint, meritae cadet agna Mineruae:
     non facit ad nostras hostia maior opes.
uos quoque, Tyndaridae, quos haec colit insula, fratres,
     mite, precor, duplici numen adesse uiae!
altera namque parat Symplegadas ire per artas,
     scindere Bistonias altera puppis aquas.

if these things shall come to pass, a lamb will fall for well‑deserving Minerva:
     no greater victim suits our resources.
you too, Tyndaridae, brothers whom this island worships,
     I pray, let your gentle divinity be present to the twofold way!
for one ship prepares to go through the narrow Symplegades,
     the other ship to cleave the Bistonian waters.

uos facite ut uentos, loca cum diuersa petamus,
illa suos habeat, nec minus illa suos.

you see to it that, since we seek diverse places,
the one may have its own winds, and no less the other its own.

Littera quaecumque est toto tibi lecta libello,
     est mihi sollicito tempore facta uiae.
aut haec me, gelido tremerem cum mense Decembri,
     scribentem mediis Hadria uidit aquis;
aut, postquam bimarem cursu superauimus Isthmon,
     alteraque est nostrae sumpta carina fugae,
quod facerem uersus inter fera murmura ponti,
     Cycladas Aegaeas obstipuisse puto.
ipse ego nunc miror tantis animique marisque
     fluctibus ingenium non cecidisse meum.

Whatever letter has been read to you throughout the whole little book,
     was fashioned by me at an anxious time of the journey.
either this saw me, when I was shivering in the gelid month December,
     the Adriatic saw me writing in the midst of its waters;
or, after we by our course overpassed the two-sea Isthmus,
     and another keel was taken up for our flight,
that I made verses amid the wild murmurs of the deep,
     I think the Aegean Cyclades stood astonished.
I myself now marvel that, amid such great billows both of spirit and of sea,
     my ingenuity has not fallen.

seu stupor huic studio siue est insania nomen,
     omnis ab hac cura cura leuata mea est.
saepe ego nimbosis dubius iactabar ab Haedis,
     saepe minax Steropes sidere pontus erat,
fuscabatque diem custos Atlantidos Vrsae,
     aut Hyadas seris hauserat Auster aquis,
saepe maris pars intus erat; tamen ipse trementi
     carmina ducebam qualiacumque manu.
nunc quoque contenti stridunt Aquilone rudentes,
     inque modum cumuli concaua surgit aqua.

whether stupor or insanity is the name for this study,
     every care of mine has been lifted by this care.
often I, uncertain, was tossed by the storm-clouded Kids,
     often the sea was menacing under the star of Sterope,
and the custodian of the Atlantean Bear was darkening the day,
     or Auster had drawn the Hyades with belated waters,
often a part of the sea was inside; yet I myself, with a trembling
     hand, was drawing out songs, whatever they were.
now also the ropes, taut with Aquilo, creak,
     and the hollow water rises in the manner of a heap.

ipse gubernator tollens ad sidera palmas
     exposcit uotis, inmemor artis, opem.
quocumque aspexi, nihil est nisi mortis imago,
     quam dubia timeo mente timensque precor.
attigero portum, portu terrebor ab ipso:
     plus habet infesta terra timoris aqua;
nam simul insidiis hominum pelagique laboro,
     et faciunt geminos ensis et unda metus.

the helmsman himself, raising his palms to the stars
     calls for help with vows, unmindful of his art.
wherever I have looked, there is nothing except an image of death,
     which I fear with a doubtful mind, and, fearing, I pray.
should I touch port, I shall be terrified by the port itself:
     the water has more of fear than the hostile land;
for at the same time I labor under the insidious plots of men and of the deep,
     and the sword and the wave make twin fears.

ille meo uereor ne speret sanguine praedam,
     haec titulum nostrae mortis habere uelit.
barbara pars laeua est auidaeque adsueta rapinae,
     quam cruor et caedes bellaque semper habent,
cumque sit hibernis agitatum fluctibus aequor,
     pectora sunt ipso turbidiora mari.
quo magis his debes ignoscere, candide lector,
     si spe sunt, ut sunt, inferiora tua.

I fear that that man may hope for prey from my blood,
     that this one may wish to have the title of our death.
the left-hand part is barbarous and accustomed to avid rapine,
     which gore and slaughter and wars always have,
and though the sea is agitated by wintry waves,
     hearts are more turbid than the sea itself.
quo the more you ought to pardon these things, candid reader,
     if they are, as they are, inferior to your expectation.

non haec in nostris, ut quondam, scripsimus hortis,
     nec, consuete, meum, lectule, corpus habes.
iactor in indomito brumali luce profundo
     ipsaque caeruleis charta feritur aquis.
improba pugnat hiems indignaturque quod ausim
     scribere se rigidas incutiente minas.

we did not write these things, as once, in our own gardens,
     nor, accustomed one, little couch, do you hold my body.
i am tossed on the untamed deep in brumal light
     and the very page is struck by cerulean waters.
the shameless winter fights and is indignant that i should dare
     to write, as she herself is hurling rigid threats.

uincat hiems hominem! sed eodem tempore, quaeso,
ipse modum statuam carminis, illa sui.

Let winter vanquish the human! But at the same time, I beseech,
let me myself establish the measure of the poem, she of her own.