Ovid: TRISTIA

Quid mihi uobiscum est, infelix cura, libelli,
ingenio perii qui miser ipse meo?
Cur modo damnatas repeto, mea crimina, Musas?
An semel est poenam commeruisse parum?

What have I to do with you, unhappy care, little books,
I who, wretched, have perished by my own genius?
Why do I now revisit the condemned Muses, my crimes?
Or was it too little to have once incurred punishment?

Carmina fecerunt, ut me cognoscere uellet
     omine non fausto femina uirque meo:
carmina fecerunt, ut me moresque notaret
     iam demi iussa Caesar ab Arte meos.
Deme mihi studium, uitae quoque crimina demes;
     acceptum refero uersibus esse nocens.
Hoc pretium curae uigilatorumque laborum
     cepimus: ingenio est poena reperta meo.

My songs made it so that, to my ill omen, a woman and a man would wish to become acquainted with me;
     my songs made it so that Caesar, having already ordered my Art to be removed, would mark me and my morals.
Take away my pursuit, and you will also take away the charges against my life;
     I set it down to account that I am guilty by my verses.
This price for care and for wakeful labors we have received:
     a penalty has been found for my genius.

Si saperem, doctas odissem iure sorores,
     numina cultori perniciosa suo.
At nunc (tanta meo conies est insania morbo)
     saxa malum refero rursus ad ista pedem:
scilicet ut uictus repetit gladiator harenam,
     et redit in tumidas naufraga puppis aquas.
Forsitan ut quondam Teuthrantia regna tenenti,
     sic mihi res eadem uulnus opemque feret,
Musaque, quam mouit, motam quoque leniet iram:
     exorant magnos carmina saepe deos.

If I were wise, I would by right hate the learned sisters,
     divinities pernicious to their own cultivator.
But now (so great a madness is companion to my disease)
     I carry back my ill-omened foot again to those rocks:
namely, as the conquered gladiator seeks the arena again,
     and the shipwrecked vessel returns into the swelling waters.
Perhaps as once to him who held the Teuthrantian realms,
     so to me the same thing will bring both wound and help,
and the Muse, whom I stirred, when moved will also soften her ire:
     songs often win over the great gods.

Ipse quoque Ausonias Caesar matresque nurusque
     carmina turrigerae dicere iussit Opi:
iusserat et Phoebo dici, quo tempore ludos
     fecit, quos aetas aspicit una semel.
His precor exemplis tua nunc, mitissime Caesar,
     fiat ab ingenio mollior ira meo.
Illa quidem iusta est, nec me meruisse negabo:
     non adeo nostro fugit ab ore pudor.

The Caesar himself also ordered the Ausonian mothers and daughters-in-law
     to speak songs to tower-bearing Ops:
he had also ordered that they be spoken to Phoebus, at the time when he made the games
     which a single age beholds once.
By these examples I pray that now, most gentle Caesar,
     your wrath may become softer by my genius.
That indeed is just, nor will I deny that I have deserved it:
     modesty has not so far fled from my lips.

Sed nisi peccassem, quid tu concedere posses?
     Materiam ueniae sors tibi nostra dedit.
Si, quotiens peccant homines, sua fulmina mittat
     Iuppiter, exiguo tempore inermis erit;
nunc ubi detonuit strepituque exterruit orbem,
     purum discussis aera reddit aquis.

But unless I had sinned, what could you concede?     Our lot has given you the material of pardon.
If, as often as men sin, Jupiter should send his own thunderbolts,     in a brief time he will be unarmed;
now, when he has thundered and with his din has terrified the orb,     he renders the air pure, the waters shaken off.

Iure igitur genitorque deum rectorque uocatur,
     iure capax mundus nil Ioue maius habet.
Tu quoque, cum patriae rector dicare paterque,
     utere more dei nomen habentis idem.
Idque facis, nec te quisquam moderatius umquam
     inperii potuit frena tenere sui.

By right, therefore, he is called both begetter of the gods and rector,
     by right the capacious world holds nothing greater than Jove.
You also, since you are called the rector and father of the fatherland,
     use the custom of a god bearing the same name.
And you do this, nor could anyone ever
     hold the reins of his own imperium more moderately than you.

Tu ueniam parti superatae saepe dedisti,
     non concessurus quam tibi uictor erat.
Diuitiis etiam multos et honoribus auctos
     uidi, qui tulerant in caput arma tuum;
quaeque dies bellum, belli tibi sustulit iram,
     parsque simul templis utraque dona tulit;
utque tuus gaudet miles, quod uicerit hostem,
     sic uictum cur se gaudeat, hostis habet.
Causa mea est melior, qui nec contraria dicor
     arma nec hostiles esse secutus opes.

You have often granted pardon to the defeated party,     pardon which, as victor, you would not have conceded to yourself.
I have even seen many augmented with riches and honors,     who had borne arms against your head;
and the day that ended the war removed from you the ire of war,     and both parties together brought gifts to the temples;
and as your soldier rejoices that he has conquered the enemy,     so the enemy, conquered, has cause to rejoice.
My case is better, I who am said to have neither taken up contrary arms     nor followed hostile forces.

Per mare, per terras, per tertia numina iuro,
     per te praesentem conspicuumque deum,
hunc animum fauisse tibi, uir maxime, meque,
     qua sola potui, mente fuisse tuum.
Optaui, peteres caelestia sidera tarde,
     parsque fui turbae parua precantis idem,
et pia tura dedi pro te, cumque omnibus unus
     ipse quoque adiuui publica uota meis.
Quid referam libros, illos quoque, crimina nostra,
     mille locis plenos nominis esse tui?

Across sea, across lands, by the numina of the third realm I swear,
     by you, a present and conspicuous god,
that this spirit has favored you, most excellent man, and that I,
     in the only way I could, have been yours in mind.
I desired that you would seek the celestial stars late,
     and I was a small part of the crowd praying the same,
and I gave pious incense for you, and I too, one man together with all,
     helped the public vows with my own.
Why should I recount that the books—those too—our crimes,
     are in a thousand places full of your name?

Inspice maius opus, quod adhuc sine fine tenetur,
     in non credendos corpora uersa modos:
inuenies uestri praeconia nominis illic,
     inuenies animi pignora multa mei.
Non tua carminibus maior fit gloria, nec quo,
     ut maior fiat, crescere possit, habet.
Fama Ioui superest: tamen hunc sua facta referri
     et se materiam carminis esse iuuat,
cumque Gigantei memorantur proelia belli,
     credibile est laetum laudibus esse suis.

Inspect the greater opus, which as yet is held without end,
     bodies turned into incredible modes:
you will find there proclamations of your name,
     you will find many pledges of my spirit.
Your glory does not become greater by songs, nor has it
     any means whereby, that it may be greater, it could grow.
Fame remains for Jove; nevertheless it pleases him that his deeds be recounted
     and that he be the material of song,
and when the battles of the Gigantomachian war are recalled,
     it is credible that he is glad at his own praises.

Te celebrant alii, quanto decet ore, tuasque
     ingenio laudes uberiore canunt:
sed tamen, ut fuso taurorum sanguine centum,
     sic capitur minimo turis honore deus.
A, ferus et nobis crudelior omnibus hostis,
     delicias legit qui tibi cumque meas,
carmina ne nostris quae te uenerantia libris
     iudicio possint candidiore legi.
Esse sed irato quis te mihi posset amicus?

Others celebrate you, with as fitting a voice as is proper, and sing your praises with a more bountiful talent:
     yet, just as, with the blood of a hundred bulls poured out,
so the god is won by the slightest honor of frankincense.
     Ah, the fierce enemy, more cruel to me than all,
whoever picks out whatever delights of mine for you,
     lest the songs that venerate you in my books
might be able to be read with a more candid judgment.
     But who, with you angered, could be a friend to me?

     Vix tunc ipse mihi non inimicus eram.
Cum coepit quassata domus subsidere, partes
     in proclinatas omne recumbit onus,
cunctaque fortuna rimam faciente dehiscunt,
     ipsa suoque eadem pondere tracta ruunt.
Ergo hominum quaesitum odium mihi carmine, quosque
     debuit, est uultus turba secuta tuos.

     Scarcely then was I myself not my own enemy.
When the shaken house began to subside, upon the inclined parts
     the whole load reclines,
and everything, with Fortune making a crack, gapes open,
     and they themselves, drawn down by that same, their own weight, collapse.
Therefore the hatred of men, procured for me by my song; and
     the crowd has followed your looks, as it ought.

At, memini, uitamque meam moresque probabas
     illo, quem dederas, praetereuntis equo:
quod si non prodest et honesti gloria nulla
     redditur, at nullum crimen adeptus eram.
Nec male commissa est nobis fortuna reorum
     lisque decem deciens inspicienda uiris.
Res quoque priuatas statui sine crimine iudex,
     deque mea fassa est pars quoque uicta fide.

But, I remember, you approved my life and my morals
     then, as you were passing by on that horse which you had given:
but if it does not profit and no glory of the honorable
     is rendered, yet I had incurred no charge.
Nor was the fortune of defendants ill-entrusted to me,
     and lawsuits to be inspected ten times by ten men.
I also adjudged private matters without reproach as judge,
     and even the defeated side confessed trust in my good faith.

Me miserum! Potui, si non extrema nocerent,
iudicio tutus non semel esse tuo.
ultima me perdunt, imoque sub aequore mergit
incolumem totiens una procella ratem.

Alas for me! I could, if the last things did not harm, have been safe more than once by your judgment.
The final things undo me, and a single squall submerges beneath the deep sea the ship so often unscathed.

Nec mihi pars nocuit de gurgite parua, sed omnes
pressere hoc fluctus oceanusque caput.
Cur aliquid uidi? Cur noxia lumina feci?

Nor did a small part from the whirlpool harm me, but all
the waves and the ocean pressed down this head.
Why did I see anything? Why did I make noxious eyes?

     Cur imprudenti cognita culpa mihi?
Inscius Actaeon uidit sine ueste Dianam:
     praeda fuit canibus non minus ille suis.
Scilicet in superis etiam fortuna luenda est,
     nec ueniam laeso numine casus habet.

     Why was the fault made known to me, imprudent?
Unknowing Actaeon saw Diana without a garment:
     no less was he prey to his own dogs.
Clearly even among the supernal powers fortune too must be atoned for,
     nor does accident have pardon when the divinity is offended.

Illa nostra die, qua me malus abstulit error,
     parua quidem periit, sed sine labe domus:
sic quoque parua tamen, patrio dicatur ut aeuo
     clara nec ullius nobilitate minor,
et neque diuitiis nec paupertate notanda,
     unde sit in neutrum conspiciendus eques.
Sit quoque nostra domus uel censu parua uel ortu,
     ingenio certe non latet illa meo:
quo uidear quamuis nimium iuuenaliter usus,
     grande tamen toto nomen ab orbe fero;
turbaque doctorum Nasonem nouit, et audet
     non fastiditis adnumerare uiris.
Corruit haec igitur Musis accepta, sub uno
     sed non exiguo crimine lapsa domus:
atque ea sic lapsa est, ut surgere, si modo laesi
     ematuruerit Caesaris ira, queat.

That day of mine, on which a bad error carried me off,
     a small house indeed perished, but without blemish:
thus too, though small, let it be said that in my paternal age
     it was famous and inferior to none in nobility,
and to be marked neither by riches nor by poverty,
     so that a knight would be conspicuous in neither extreme.
Let our house also be small either in census or in birth,
     surely it does not lie hidden by my genius:
by which, although I may seem to have used it too youthfully,
     yet I bear a great name from the whole world;
and the crowd of the learned knows Naso, and dares
     to reckon me among men not disdained.
Therefore this house, acceptable to the Muses, collapsed, under one
     but not slight crime did the house fall:
and thus it fell, so that to rise, if only the anger of the Caesar I injured
     shall have mellowed, it may be able.

Cuius in euentu poenae clementia tanta est,
     uenerit ut nostro lenior illa metu.
Vita data est, citraque necem tua constitit ira,
     o princeps parce uiribus use tuis!
Insuper accedunt, te non adimente, paternae,
     tamquam uita parum muneris esset, opes.

In the outcome of my penalty the clemency is so great,
     that it has come gentler than my fear.
Life has been given, and your wrath has halted short of slaughter,
     o princeps, sparing in the use of your powers!
Moreover there are added, you not taking them away, the paternal
     resources, as though life were too little of a gift.

Nec mea decreto damnasti facta senatus,
     nec mea selecto iudice iussa fuga est.
Tristibus inuectus uerbis (ita principe dignum)
     ultus es offensas, ut decet, ipse tuas.
Adde quod edictum, quamuis immite minaxque,
     attamen in poenae nomine lene fuit:
quippe relegatus, non exul, dicor in illo,
     priuaque fortunae sunt ibi uerba meae.

Nor did you condemn my deeds by a decree of the senate,
     nor was my flight ordered by a selected judge.
Having inveighed with grim words (so befitting a princeps),
     you yourself avenged your offenses, as is fitting.
Add that the edict, although harsh and menacing,
     yet under the name of penalty was lenient:
for I am called relegated, not an exile, in it,
     and the words there pertain to my private fortune.

Nulla quidem sano grauior mentisque potenti
     poena est, quam tanto displicuisse uiro:
sed solet interdum fieri placabile numen:
     nube solet pulsa candidus ire dies.
Vidi ego pampineis oneratam uitibus ulmum,
     quae fuerat saeui fulmine tacta Iouis.
Ipse licet sperare uetes, sperabimus usque;
     hoc unum fieri te prohibente potest.

Indeed, for one sane and potent of mind no penalty is heavier
     than to have dis-pleased so great a man:
but sometimes the numen is wont to become placable:
     the bright day is wont to go forth with the cloud driven off.
I myself have seen an elm laden with vine-leafed vines,
     which had been struck by the savage thunderbolt of Jove.
Even if you yourself forbid hoping, we shall hope continuously;
     this one thing can come to pass with you forbidding it.

Spes mihi magna subit, cum te, mitissime princeps,
     spes mihi, respicio cum mea facta, cadit.
Ac ueluti uentis agitantibus aera non est
     aequalis rabies continuusque furor,
sed modo subsidunt intermissique silescunt,
     uimque putes illos deposuisse suam:
sic abeunt redeuntque mei uariantque timores,
     et spem placandi dantque negantque tui.
Per superos igitur, qui dant tibi longa dabuntque
     tempora, Romanum si modo nomen amant;
per patriam, quae te tuta et secura parente est,
     cuius, ut in populo, pars ego nuper eram;
sic tibi, quem semper factis animoque mereris,
     reddatur gratae debitus urbis amor;
Liuia sic tecum sociales compleat annos,
     quae, nisi te, nullo coniuge digna fuit,
quae si non esset, caelebs te uita deceret,
     nullaque, cui posses esse maritus, erat;
sospite sit tecum natus quoque sospes, et olim
     inperium regat hoc cum seniore senex;
ut faciuntque tui, sidus iuuenale, nepotes,
     per tua perque sui facta parentis, eant;
sic adsueta tuis semper Victoria castris
     nunc quoque se praestet notaque signa petat,
Ausoniumque ducem solitis circumuolet alis,
     ponat et in nitida laurea serta coma,
per quem bella geris, cuius nunc corpore pugnas,
     auspicium cui das grande deosque tuos,
dimidioque tui praesens es et aspicis urbem,
     dimidio procul es saeuaque bella geris;
hic tibi sic redeat superato uictor ab hoste,
     inque coronatis fulgeat altus equis:
parce, precor, fulmenque tuum, fera tela, reconde,
     heu nimium misero cognita tela mihi!

A great hope rises for me, when I, most gentle princeps, look to you,
     hope falls for me, when I look back at my deeds.
And just as, when winds are agitating the air, there is not
     uniform rage nor continuous frenzy,
but at times they subside and, interrupted, fall silent,
     and you would think they had laid down their force:
so my fears go and return and vary,
     and they both grant and deny the hope of appeasing you.
By the gods above, therefore, who give you long years and will give them,
     if only they love the Roman name;
by the fatherland, which is safe and secure with you as its parent,
     of which, as among the people, I lately was a part;
so may there be restored to you, whom you always deserve by deeds and by spirit,
     the love of a grateful city that is owed;
so may Livia complete with you her shared years—
     she who, save for you, was worthy of no spouse—
who, if she did not exist, a celibate life would befit you,
     nor was there any to whom you could be a husband;
with you safe, may your son also be safe, and one day
     as an old man let him rule this empire together with the elder;
and as your grandsons do—youthful star—
     let them advance through your deeds and through those of their parent;
so may Victory, ever accustomed to your camps,
     now also show herself and seek the well-known standards,
and may she fly around the Ausonian leader with her wonted wings,
     and set laurel garlands upon his shining hair—
through whom you wage wars, in whose body you now fight,
     to whom you give great auspice and your own gods—
and so that by half of yourself you are present and behold the city,
     by half you are far away and wage savage wars;
may he thus return here to you, victor over the vanquished enemy,
     and shine on high upon horses wreathed with crowns:
spare, I pray, and sheathe your thunderbolt, your fierce weapons—
     alas, weapons all too well known to wretched me!

Parce, pater patriae, nec nominis inmemor huius
     olim placandi spem mihi tolle tui.
Non precor ut redeam, quamuis maiora petitis
     credibile est magnos saepe dedisse deos:
mitius exilium si das propiusque roganti,
     pars erit ex poena magna leuata mea.
ultima perpetior medios eiectus in hostes,
     nec quisquam patria longius exul abest.

Spare, father of the fatherland, and, not unmindful of this name,
     do not take from me the hope of someday placating you.
I do not pray that I may return, although to those petitioning greater things
     it is credible that the great gods have often granted them:
if you grant a milder exile and one nearer to the suppliant,
     a part of my great penalty will be alleviated.
I endure the farthest, cast out into the midst of enemies,
     and no exile is farther from his fatherland.

Solus ad egressus missus septemplicis Histri
     Parrhasiae gelido uirginis axe premor.
Iazyges et Colchi Tereteaque turba Getaeque
     Danuuii mediis uix prohibentur aquis;
cumque alii causa tibi sint grauiore fugati,
     ulterior nulli, quam mihi, terra data est.
Longius hac nihil est, nisi tantum frigus et hostes,
     et maris adstricto quae coit unda gelu.

Alone, sent to the outlets of the sevenfold Danube,
     I am pressed beneath the icy axis of the Parrhasian virgin.
The Iazyges and the Colchians and the Terean throng and the Getae
     are scarcely kept back by the waters in the midst of the Danube;
and though others have been driven out by you for a graver cause,
     to none has a land more remote than mine been assigned.
Nothing lies farther than this, save only the cold and the enemies,
     and the wave of the sea which, when the frost tightens, coalesces into ice.

Hactenus Euxini pars est Romana Sinistri:
     proxima Bastarnae Sauromataeque tenent.
Haec est Ausonio sub iure nouissima, uixque
     haeret in inperii margine terra tui.
unde precor supplex ut nos in tuta releges,
     ne sit cum patria pax quoque adempta mihi,
ne timeam gentes, quas non bene summouet Hister,
     neue tuus possim ciuis ab hoste capi.

Thus far the portion of the left-hand Euxine is Roman:
     the neighboring lands the Bastarnae and Sarmatians hold.
This is the most remote under Ausonian law, and scarcely
     does the land of your empire cling on its margin.
Whence I, a suppliant, pray that you reassign us into safety,
     lest, along with my fatherland, peace too be taken from me,
lest I fear the nations whom the Hister does not well drive away,
     and lest your citizen can be captured by the enemy.

Fas prohibet Latio quemquam de sanguine natum
     Caesaribus saluis barbara uincla pati.
Perdiderint cum me duo crimina, carmen et error,
     alterius facti culpa silenda mihi:
nam non sum tanti, renouem ut tua uulnera, Caesar,
     quem nimio plus est indoluisse semel.
Altera pars superest, qua turpi carmine factus
     arguor obsceni doctor adulterii.

Divine law forbids that anyone born of Latin blood
     should suffer barbarian bonds while the Caesars are safe.
Since two crimes have ruined me, a poem and an error,
     the blame of the latter deed must be kept silent by me:
for I am not of such worth as to renew your wounds, Caesar,
     for whom to have grieved once is far too much.
The other part remains, whereby by a shameful song I am
     accused as the teacher of obscene adultery.

Fas ergo est aliqua caelestia pectora falli,
     et sunt notitia multa minora tua;
utque deos caelumque simul sublime tuenti
     non uacat exiguis rebus adesse Ioui,
de te pendentem sic dum circumspicis orbem,
     effugiunt curas inferiora tuas.
Scilicet inperii princeps statione relicta
     inparibus legeres carmina facta modis?
Non ea te moles Romani nominis urget,
     inque tuis umeris tam leue fertur onus,
lusibus ut possis aduertere numen ineptis,
     excutiasque oculis otia nostra tuis.

Therefore it is lawful that certain celestial minds be deceived,
     and many things are lesser than your notice;
and just as, to one beholding the gods and the heaven together on high,
     it is not vacant for Jove to be present to exiguous matters,
so, while you survey the world hanging on you,
     lower things escape your cares.
Surely the princeps of the empire, his station left behind,
     would read songs made in unequal measures?
Not such a mass of the Roman name presses you,
     nor is so light a burden carried on your shoulders,
that you can advert your numen to inept playthings,
     and with your eyes scrutinize our leisures.

Nunc tibi Pannonia est, nunc Illyris ora domanda,
     Raetica nunc praebent Thraciaque arma metum,
nunc petit Armenius pacem, nunc porrigit arcus
     Parthus eques timida captaque signa manu,
nunc te prole tua iuuenem Germania sentit,
     bellaque pro magno Caesare Caesar obit.
Denique, ut in tanto, quantum non extitit umquam,
     corpore pars nulla est, quae labet, inperii,
urbs quoque te et legum lassat tutela tuarum
     et morum, similes quos cupis esse tuis.
Non tibi contingunt, quae gentibus otia praestas,
     bellaque cum multis inrequieta geris.

Now Pannonia is for you to be subdued, now the Illyrian shore,
     now Raetian and Thracian arms afford dread;
now the Armenian seeks peace, now the Parthian horseman proffers
     his bow with a timid hand and the captured standards;
now Germania feels you young in your progeny,
     and a Caesar undergoes wars on behalf of great Caesar.
Finally, as in so great a body of empire as never before existed,
     there is no part that totters of the imperium;
the City too wearies you, the guardianship of your laws
     and of morals, which you wish to be like your own.
The leisures which you grant to the nations do not befall you,
     and you wage unquiet wars with many.

Mirer in hoc igitur tantarum pondere rerum
     te numquam nostros euoluisse iocos?
At si, quod mallem, uacuum tibi forte fuisset,
     nullum legisses crimen in Arte mea.
Illa quidem fateor frontis non esse seuerae
     scripta, nec a tanto principe digna legi:
non tamen idcirco legum contraria iussis
     sunt ea Romanas erudiuntque nurus.

Should I marvel, then, under the burden of so great affairs,
     that you have never unrolled our jests?
But if, which I would prefer, there had by chance been leisure for you,
     you would have read no charge in my Art.
Those writings indeed I confess are not of a severe brow,
     nor worthy to be read by so great a prince:
nevertheless not on that account contrary to the commands of the laws
     are they; they instruct Roman brides.

Neue, quibus scribam, possis dubitare, libellos,
     quattuor hos uersus e tribus unus habet:
"este procul, uittae tenues, insigne pudoris,
     quaeque tegis medios instita longa pedes!
Nil nisi legitimum concessaque furta canemus,
     inque meo nullum carmine crimen erit."
Ecquid ab hac omnes rigide summouimus Arte,
     quas stola contingi uittaque sumpta uetat?
"At matrona potest alienis artibus uti,
     quoque trahat, quamuis non doceatur, habet."
Nil igitur matrona legat, quia carmine ab omni
     ad delinquendum doctior esse potest.

Lest you, my little books, can doubt for whom I write,
     one out of three holds these four verses:
"be far away, slender fillets, insignia of modesty,
     and you, long hem that covers the middle of the feet!
We will sing nothing except legitimate and conceded thefts,
     and in my song there will be no crime."
Have we not by this Art rigorously removed all those,
     whom the stola and the assumed fillet forbid to be touched?
"But a matron can use others’ arts,
     and she has that by which she may draw, although she is not taught."
Therefore let the matron read nothing, since by any poem
     she can be made more learned for transgression.

Quodcumque attigerit siqua est studiosa sinistri,
     ad uitium mores instruet inde suos.
Sumpserit Annales (nihil est hirsutius illis)
     facta sit unde parens Ilia, nempe leget.
Sumpserit "Aeneadum genetrix" ubi prima, requiret,
     Aeneadum genetrix unde sit alma Venus.

Whatever she touches, if there is any woman studious of the sinister,
     from it she will instruct her character toward vice.
If she takes up the Annals (nothing is more hirsute than those),
     she will of course read where Ilia became a parent.
If she takes up "Aeneadum genetrix" where it stands first, she will inquire
     whence nurturing Venus is the mother of the Aeneads.

Persequar inferius, modo si licet ordine ferri,
posse nocere animis carminis omne genus.
Non tamen idcirco crimen liber omnis habebit:
nil prodest, quod non laedere possit idem.
Igne quid utilius?

I will pursue further below, provided it is permitted to be borne in order, that every genus of song can harm minds.
Nevertheless, not on that account will every book have a crime:
there is nothing useful which that same thing cannot also be able to harm.
What is more useful than fire?

Siquis tamen urere tecta
     comparat, audaces instruit igne manus.
Eripit interdum, modo dat medicina salutem,
     quaeque iuuet, monstrat, quaeque sit herba nocens.
Et latro et cautus praecingitur ense uiator
     ille sed insidias, hic sibi portat opem.

Yet if someone prepares to burn houses,
     he procures it, he arms bold hands with fire.
Sometimes it snatches away, at another time medicine gives health,
     and it shows what herb helps, and what herb is noxious.
Both the robber and the cautious wayfarer gird themselves with a sword—
     the former carries ambush, the latter carries aid for himself.

Discitur innocuas ut agat facundia causas:
     protegit haec sontes, inmeritosque premit.
Sic igitur carmen, recta si mente legatur,
     constabit nulli posse nocere meum.
"At quasdam uitio." Quicumque hoc concipit, errat,
     et nimium scriptis arrogat ille meis.

Eloquence is learned so that it may plead innocent causes:
     yet this protects the guilty, and presses the undeserving.
Thus therefore my song, if it be read with a right mind,
     it will be established that my poem can harm no one.
"But some, by their own fault." Whoever conceives this errs,
     and he arrogates too much to my writings.

ut tamen hoc fatear, ludi quoque semina praebent
     nequitiae: tolli tota theatra iube:
peccandi causam multis quam saepe dederunt,
     Martia cum durum sternit harena solum.
Tollatur Circus; non tuta licentia Circi est:
     hic sedet ignoto iuncta puella uiro.
Cum quaedam spatientur in hoc, ut amator eodem
     conueniat, quare porticus ulla patet?

so that I may confess this, too, the games also provide the seeds of wickedness:
     order the whole theaters to be taken down;
how often they have given to many a cause for sinning,
     when the Martial sand carpets the hard ground.
Let the Circus be removed; the license of the Circus is not safe:
     here a girl sits joined to an unknown man.
Since certain women stroll in this place, in order that a lover may meet them in the same,
     why does any portico stand open?

Quis locus est templis augustior? Haec quoque uitet,
in culpam siqua est ingeniosa suam.
Cum steterit Iouis aede, Iouis succurret in aede
quam multas matres fecerit ille deus.

What place is more august than temples? Let her avoid these too,
if any woman is ingenious toward her own guilt.
When she has stood in Jove’s temple, in Jove’s temple it will come to mind
how many mothers that god has made.

Proxima adoranti Iunonis templa subibit,
     paelicibus multis hanc doluisse deam.
Pallade conspecta, natum de crimine uirgo
     sustulerit quare, quaeret, Erichthonium.
Venerit in magni templum, tua munera, Martis,
     stat Venus Vltori iuncta, uir ante fores.

Next, as she worships, she will enter the temples of Juno,
     a goddess who has grieved over many rival-mistresses.
With Pallas in view, she will ask why the maiden
     took up a son from a crime—Erichthonius.
If she has come into the temple of great Mars—your gifts, O Mars—
     Venus stands joined to the Avenger, and a man is before the doors.

Isidis aede sedens, cur hanc Saturnia, quaeret,
     egerit Ionio Bosphorioque mari?
In Venerem Anchises, in Lunam Latmius heros,
     in Cererem Iasion, qui referatur, erit.
Omnia peruersas possunt corrumpere mentes
     stant tamen illa suis omnia tuta locis.

Sitting in the temple of Isis, she will ask why Saturnia drove this woman
     through the Ionian and Bosporian sea?
For Venus, Anchises; for Luna, the Latmian hero;
     for Ceres, Iasion—there will be someone to be recounted.
All things can corrupt minds that are perverse;
     nevertheless all those things stand safe in their own places.

Et procul a scripta solis meretricibus Arte
     summouet ingenuas pagina prima manus.
Quaecumque erupit, qua non sinit ire sacerdos,
     protinus huic dempti criminis ipsa rea est.
Nec tamen est facinus uersus euoluere mollis,
     multa licet castae non facienda legant.

And far from an Art written for prostitutes alone
     the first page wards off the hands of freeborn girls.
Whoever bursts in, where the priest does not allow one to go,
     immediately she herself is guilty of the charge lifted from me.
Nor, however, is it a crime to unroll soft verses,
     though chaste women may read many things not to be done.

Saepe supercilii nudas matrona seueri
     et Veneris stantis ad genus omne uidet.
Corpora Vestales oculi meretricia cernunt,
     nec domino poenae res ea causa fuit.
at cur in nostra nimia est lasciuia Musa,
     curue meus cuiquam suadet amare liber?

Often the matron of a severe eyebrow sees naked figures,
     and, of Venus standing, of every kind.
Vestal eyes discern meretricious bodies,
     nor has that thing been a cause of punishment to their master.
But why is there excessive lasciviousness in our Muse,
     or why does my book persuade anyone to love?

Nil nisi peccatum manifestaque culpa fatenda est:
     paenitet ingenii iudiciique mei.
Cur non Argolicis potius quae concidit armis
     uexata est iterum carmine Troia meo?
Cur tacui Thebas et uulnera mutua fratrum,
     et septem portas, sub duce quamque suo?

Nothing except sin and manifest guilt must be confessed:
     I repent of my talent and my judgment.
Why was not Troy, which fell to Argolic arms,
     vexed again by my song?
Why did I keep silent about Thebes and the brothers’ mutual wounds,
     and the seven gates, each under its own leader?

Nec mihi materiam bellatrix Roma negabat,
     et pius est patriae facta referre labor.
Denique cum meritis inpleueris omnia, Caesar,
     pars mihi de multis una canenda fuit,
utque trahunt oculos radiantia lumina solis,
     traxissent animum sic tua facta meum.
Arguor immerito.

Nor did warlike Rome deny me subject-matter,
     and it is a pious labor to recount the deeds of the fatherland.
At last, when by your merits you shall have fulfilled all things, Caesar,
     one part out of many was to be sung by me,
and as the radiant lights of the sun draw eyes,
     so would your deeds have drawn my mind.
I am accused without deserving it.

Tenuis mihi campus aratur:
     illud erat magnae fertilitatis opus.
Non ideo debet pelago se credere, siqua
     audet in exiguo ludere cumba lacu.
Forsan (et hoc dubitem) numeris leuioribus aptus
     sim satis, in paruos sufficiamque modos:
at si me iubeas domitos Iouis igne Gigantas
     dicere, conantem debilitabit onus.

A slender field is ploughed for me:
     that was a work of great fertility.
Not on that account ought a skiff to entrust itself to the sea, if any
     dares to play in a tiny lake.
Perhaps (and I even doubt this) I am apt enough for lighter numbers
     and may suffice for small measures:
but if you bid me to tell of Giants tamed by Jove’s fire,
     the burden will debilitate me as I attempt it.

Diuitis ingenii est inmania Caesaris acta
condere, materia ne superetur opus.
Et tamen ausus eram. Sed detractare uidebar,
quodque nefas, damno uiribus esse tuis.

It is of rich genius to compose the immense deeds of Caesar,
lest the work be surpassed by the material.
And yet I had dared. But I seemed to detract,
and—what is impious—to be a damage to your strengths by my powers.

Ad leue rursus opus, iuuenalia carmina, ueni,
et falso moui pectus amore meum.
Non equidem uellem: sed me mea fata trahebant,
inque meas poenas ingeniosus eram.
Et mihi, quod didici!

To the light work again, juvenile songs, I came,
and with false love I moved my breast.
Not indeed would I wish it: but my fates were dragging me,
and into my own penalties I was ingenious.
And for myself, what I had learned!

Cur me docuere parentes,
     litteraque est oculos ulla morata meos?
Haec tibi me inuisum lasciuia fecit, ob Artes,
     quis ratus es uetitos sollicitare toros.
Sed neque me nuptae didicerunt furta magistro,
     quodque parum nouit, nemo docere potest.

Why did my parents teach me,
     and has any letter ever detained my eyes?
This lasciviousness has made me odious to you, on account of the Arts,
     by which you supposed I would solicit forbidden marriage-beds.
But neither did brides learn their furtive love-affairs with me as teacher,
     and what a man scarcely knows, no one can teach.

Sic ego delicias et mollia carmina feci,
     strinxerit ut nomen fabula nulla meum.
Nec quisquam est adeo media de plebe maritus,
     ut dubius uitio sit pater ille meo.
Crede mihi, distant mores a carmine nostro
     (uita uerecunda est, Musa iocosa mea)
magnaque pars mendax operum est et ficta meorum:
     plus sibi permisit compositore suo.

Thus I made delights and soft songs,
     so that no fable might fasten upon my name.
Nor is there any husband so from the middle plebeian crowd,
     that he be in doubt of being a father through my fault.
Believe me, my manners are distant from my song
     (my life is modest, my Muse is jocose),
and a great part of my works is mendacious and fictitious:
     it has permitted itself more than its composer.

Nec liber indicium est animi, sed honesta uoluntas:
     plurima mulcendis auribus apta feres.
Accius esset atrox, conuiua Terentius esset,
     essent pugnaces qui fera bella canunt.
Denique composui teneros non solus amores:
     composito poenas solus amore dedi.

Nor is a book an indication of the mind, but an honorable will:
     you will bear very many things apt for soothing ears.
Accius would be atrocious; Terence would be a table-companion,
     those who sing savage wars would be pugnacious.
Finally, I did not alone compose tender loves:
     for composing Love I alone paid the penalties.

Quid, nisi cum multo Venerem confundere uino,
praecepit lyrici Teia Musa senis?
Lesbia quid docuit Sappho, nisi amare, puellas?
Tuta tamen Sappho, tutus et ille fuit.

What, except to mix Venus with much wine,
did the Teian Muse of the lyric old man prescribe?
What did Lesbian Sappho teach, except to love, the girls?
Yet Sappho was safe, and he too was safe.

Nec tibi, Battiade, nocuit, quod saepe legenti
     delicias uersu fassus es ipse tuas.
Fabula iucundi nulla est sine amore Menandri,
     et solet hic pueris uirginibusque legi.
Ilias ipsa quid est aliud, nisi adultera, de qua
     inter amatorem pugna uirunique fuit?

Nor did it harm you, Battiades, that, as one often reads you,
     you yourself confessed your delights in verse.
No play of the pleasant Menander is without love,
     and this man is wont to be read by boys and maidens.
What is the Iliad itself other than an adulteress, about whom
     there was combat between her lover and her husband?

Quid prius est illi flamma Briseidos, utque
     fecerit iratos rapta puella duces?
Aut quid Odyssea est, nisi femina propter amorem,
     dum uir abest, multis una petita procis?
Quis, nisi Maeonides, Venerem Martemque ligatos
     narrat in obsceno corpora prensa toro?

What is prior in that than the flame of Briseis, and how     the girl, snatched away, made the leaders irate?
Or what is the Odyssey, if not a woman, on account of love,     while her husband is away, one woman sought by many suitors?
Who, save the Maeonides, tells of Venus and Mars bound,     their bodies seized upon an obscene couch?

unde nisi indicio magni sciremus Homeri
hospitis igne duas incaluisse deas?
Omne genus scripti grauitate tragoedia uincit:
haec quoque materiam semper amoris habet.
Numquid in Hippolyto, nisi caecae flamma nouercae?

whence, unless by the indication of great Homer,
would we know that by the guest’s fire two goddesses grew hot?
Tragedy surpasses every kind of writing by its gravity:
this too always has material for love.
What is there in Hippolytus, except the blind flame of a stepmother?

Nobilis est Canace fratris amore sui.
Quid? Non Tantalides agitante Cupidine currus
Pisaeam Phrygiis uexit eburnus equis?

Notable is Canace for the love of her own brother.
What? Did not the Tantalid’s ivory chariot, with Cupid urging on,
carry the Pisaean maiden with Phrygian horses?

Tingeret ut ferrum natorum sanguine mater,
     concitus a laeso fecit amore dolor.
Fecit amor subitas uolucres cum paelice regem,
     quaeque suum luget nunc quoque mater Ityn.
Si non Aeropen frater sceleratus amasset,
     auersos Solis non legeremus equos.

That a mother might dip the iron in the blood of her sons,
     stirred-up pain, from love having been injured, made it.
Love made the king, with his paramour, into sudden birds,
     and the mother who even now mourns her own Itys.
If the wicked brother had not loved Aerope,
     we would not be reading of the Sun’s reversed horses.

Inpia nec tragicos tetigisset Scylla coturnos,
     ni patrium crinem desecuisset amor.
Qui legis Electran et egentem mentis Oresten,
     Aegisthi crimen Tyndaridosque legis.
Nam quid de tetrico referam domitore Chimaerae,
     quem leto fallax hospita paene dedit?

Nor would impious Scylla have touched the tragic buskins,
     if love had not cut off the paternal lock of hair.
You who read Electra and Orestes destitute of mind,
     you read the crime of Aegisthus and of the Tyndarid woman.
For what should I recount of the grim tamer of the Chimera,
     whom the deceitful hostess almost delivered to death?

Quid loquar Hermionen, quid te, Schoeneia uirgo,
     teque, Mycenaeo Phoebas amata duci?
Quid Danaen Danaesque nurum matremque Lyaei
     Haemonaque et noctes cui coiere duae?
Quid Peliae generum, quid Thesea, quiue Pelasgum
     Iliacam tetigit de rate primus humum?

What shall I speak of Hermione, what of you, Schoeneian maiden,
     and you, Phoebas, loved by the Mycenaean leader?
What of Danae and the daughter-in-law of Danae and the mother of Lyaeus,
     and Haemon, and her to whom two nights came together?
What of the son-in-law of Pelias, what of Theseus, or he who first
     touched the Iliac soil from the Pelasgian ship?

Huc Iole Pyrrhique parens, huc Herculis uxor,
     huc accedat Hylas Iliacusque puer.
Tempore deficiar, tragicos si persequar ignes,
     uixque meus capiet nomina nuda liber.
Est et in obscenos commixta tragoedia risus,
     multaque praeteriti uerba pudoris habet.

Here let Iole and Pyrrhus’s parent, here Hercules’ wife,
     here let Hylas and the Iliac boy be added.
I shall run short of time, if I pursue the tragic fires,
     and scarcely will my book hold the bare names.
And tragedy too is commixed with obscene laughter,
     and it has many words with modesty long since past.

Nec nocet auctori, mollem qui fecit Achillem,
     infregisse suis fortia facta modis.
Iunxit Aristides Milesia crimina secum,
     pulsus Aristides nec tamen urbe sua est.
Nec qui descripsit corrumpi semina matrum,
     Eubius, inpurae conditor historiae,
nec qui composuit nuper Sybaritica, fugit,
     nec qui concubitus non tacuere suos.

Nor does it harm the author, who made Achilles soft,
     to have broken the brave deeds by his own modes.
Aristides joined Milesian crimes to himself,
     nor, however, was Aristides expelled from his own city.
Nor he who described the seeds of mothers to be corrupted,
     Eubius, founder of impure history,
nor he who recently composed the Sybaritics, fled,
     nor those who did not keep silent about their own couplings.

Suntque ea doctorum monumentis mixta uirorum,
     muneribusque ducum publica facta patent.
Neue peregrinis tantum defendar ab armis,
     et Romanus habet multa iocosa liber.
utque suo Martem cecinit grauis Ennius ore,
     Ennius ingenio maximus, arte rudis:
explicat ut causas rapidi Lucretius ignis,
     casurumque triplex uaticinatur opus:
sic sua lasciuo cantata est saepe Catullo
     femina, cui falsum Lesbia nomen erat;
nec contentus ea, multos uulgauit amores,
     in quibus ipse suum fassus adulterium est.

And these things are mixed with the monuments of learned men,
     and by the gifts of leaders the deeds made public lie open.
Nor let me be defended only by foreign arms,
     and the Roman book too has many jocose things.
And as grave Ennius sang Mars with his own mouth,
     Ennius greatest in genius, rough in art:
as Lucretius explicates the causes of rapid fire,
     and vaticinates that the threefold work is destined to fall:
so too a woman was often sung by lascivious Catullus,
     for whom the name Lesbia was a false one;
nor, content with her, did he not publish many loves,
     among which he confessed his own adulterium.

Par fuit exigui similisque licentia Calui,
     detexit uariis qui sua furta modis.
Cinna quoque his comes est, Cinnaque procacior Anser,
     et leue Cornifici parque Catonis opus.
Quid referam Ticidae, quid Memmi carmen, apud quos
     rebus adest nomen nominibusque pudor,
et quorum libris modo dissimulata Perilla est,
     nomine nunc legitur dicta, Metelle, tuo?

Equal, and with similar license, was Calvus the slight,
     who uncovered his own thefts by various modes.
Cinna too is companion to these, and Anser more procacious than Cinna,
     and the light work of Cornificius and the equal work of Cato.
What should I recount of Ticida, what of the song of Memmius, with whom
     a name is present to things and modesty to names,
and in whose books Perilla was lately dissimulated,
     now she is read as called by your name, Metellus?

Is quoque, Phasiacas Argon qui duxit in undas,
non potuit Veneris furta tacere suae.
Nec minus Hortensi, nec sunt minus improba Serui
carmina. Quis dubitet nomina tanta sequi?

He too, who led the Argo into the Phasian waters,
could not keep silent about the thefts of his own Venus.
No less those of Hortensius, nor are less shameless Servius’s
songs. Who would hesitate to follow such great names?

Vertit Aristiden Sisenna, nec obfuit illi,
     historiae turpis inseruisse iocos.
Non fuit opprobrio celebrasse Lycorida Gallo,
     sed linguam nimio non tenuisse mero.
Credere iuranti durum putat esse Tibullus,
     sic etiam de se quod neget illa uiro:
fallere custodes idem docuisse fatetur,
     seque sua miserum nunc ait arte premi.

Sisenna translated Aristides, nor did it harm him,
     to have inserted indecorous jests into history.
It was not an opprobrium to Gallus to have celebrated Lycoris,
     but that he did not keep his tongue under too much wine.
Tibullus thinks it hard to believe one who swears,
     thus also that she denies this about herself to the man:
he confesses that he taught how to deceive the guardians,
     and now says that he himself, a wretch, is pressed by his own art.

Saepe, uelut gemmam dominae signumue probaret,
     per causam meminit se tetigisse manum,
utque refert, digitis saepe est nutuque locutus,
     et tacitam mensae duxit in orbe notam
et quibus e sucis abeat de corpore liuor,
     inpresso fieri qui solet ore, docet:
denique ab incauto nimium petit ille marito,
     se quoque uti seruet, peccet ut illa minus.
Scit, cui latretur, cum solus obambulet, ipsas
     cui totiens clausas exscreet ante fores,
multaque dat furti talis praecepta docetque
     qua nuptae possint fallere ab arte uiros.
Non fuit hoc illi fraudi, legiturque Tibullus
     et placet, et iam te principe notus erat.

Often, as if he were appraising the lady’s gem or signet,     under that pretext he remembers that he touched her hand,
and, as he reports, he has often spoken with his fingers and with a nod,     and he traced a silent mark in the circle of the table,
and he teaches with which juices a bruise may go away from the body,     the sort that is wont to be made by an imprinted mouth:
finally he asks too much of the too incautious husband,     that he also keep himself, so that she may sin the less.
He knows for whom one should bark, when he walks about alone,     before whose very doors, so often shut, he should clear his throat,
and he gives many precepts of such theft and teaches     by what art wives may deceive their men.
This was not to his detriment; and Tibullus is read     and is pleasing, and already, with you as princeps, he was known.

Inuenies eadem blandi praecepta Properti:
     destrictus minima nec tamen ille nota est.
His ego successi, quoniam praestantia candor
     nomina uiuorum dissimulare iubet.
Non timui, fateor, ne, qua tot iere carinae,
     naufraga seruatis omnibus una foret.

You will find the same coaxing precepts in Propertius:
     nor yet is that man indicted with the least mark.
I came after these men, since preeminent candor
     bids one to dissimulate the names of the living.
I did not fear, I confess, lest, where so many keels have gone,
     that a lone one might be shipwrecked, with all preserved.

Sunt aliis scriptae, quibus alea luditur, artes
      (hoc est ad nostros non leue crimen auos)
quid ualeant tali, quo possis plurima iactu
     figere, damnosos effugiasue canes,
tessera quos habeat numeros, distante uocato
     mittere quo deceat, quo dare missa modo,
discolor ut recto grassetur limite miles,
     cum medius gemino calculus hoste perit,
ut bellare sequens sciat et reuocare priorem,
     nec tuto fugiens incomitatus eat;
parua sit ut ternis instructa tabella lapillis,
     in qua uicisse est continuasse suos;
quique alli lusus (neque enim nunc persequar omnes)
     perdere, rem caram, tempora nostra solent.
Ecce canit formas alius iactusque pilarum,
     hic artem nandi praecipit, ille trochi,
composita est aliis fucandi cura coloris;
     hic epulis leges hospitioque dedit
alter humum, de qua fingantur pocula, monstrat,
     quaeque, docet, liquido testa sit apta mero.
Talia luduntur fumoso mense Decembri,
     quae damno nulli composuisse fuit.

There are arts written by others, by which the dice-game is played
      (this is no light crime against our ancestors),
what a knucklebone avails, with which by a single throw you can
     fix very many, or escape the ruinous “dogs,”
what numbers the die has, with the opponent standing at a distance when called,
     where it is fitting to send it, in what manner to deliver what is thrown,
so that the varicolored “soldier” may advance on a straight line,
     when a counter in the middle perishes, hemmed by a twin foe,
how the following piece should war and call back the former,
     nor go safely, if fleeing, unaccompanied;
so that a small board be equipped with three little stones each,
     on which to have won is to have made one’s own continuous;
and what other games (for I will not now pursue all)
     are wont to waste—a dear possession—our time.
Look, another sings the forms and the throws of balls,
     this one prescribes the art of swimming, that one of the hoop (trochus),
to others is assigned the care of composing cosmetic color;
     this one has given laws for banquets and for hospitality;
another points out the earth, from which cups may be fashioned,
     and teaches what kind of earthenware be apt for liquid unmixed wine.
Such things are played in the smoky month of December,
     the composing of which has been to the harm of no one.

His ego deceptus non tristia carmina feci,
     sed tristis nostros poena secuta iocos.
Denique nec uideo tot de scribentibus unum,
     quem sua perdiderit Musa, repertus ego.
Quid, si scripsissem mimos obscena iocantes,
     qui semper uetiti crimen amoris habent:
in quibus assidue cultus procedit adulter,
     uerbaque dat stulto callida nupta uiro?

Deceived by these, I made not sad songs,
     but a sad penalty followed my jests.
Finally, nor do I see among so many writers one
     whom his own Muse has ruined; I am found as such.
What, if I had written mimes jesting obscenely,
     who always have the crime of forbidden love:
in which continually the well-groomed adulterer steps forth,
     and the cunning bride gives words—tricks—her foolish husband?

Nubilis hos uirgo matronaque uirque puerque
     spectat, et ex magna parte senatus adest.
Nec satis incestis temerari uocibus aures;
     adsuescunt oculi multa pudenda pati:
cumque fefellit amans aliqua nouitate maritum
     plauditur et magno palma fauore datur;
quoque minus prodest, scaena est lucrosa poetae,
     tantaque non paruo crimina praetor emit.
Inspice ludorum sumptus, Auguste, tuorum:
     empta tibi magno talia multa leges.

A nubile maiden watches these, and a matron and a man and a boy,
     and a great part of the senate is present.
Nor is it enough for ears to be desecrated by incestuous voices;
     the eyes grow accustomed to suffer many shameful things:
and whenever a lover has deceived a husband by some novelty,
     there is applause, and the palm is given with great favor;
and, what is less to the good, the stage is lucrative for the poet,
     and the praetor buys such crimes at no small price.
Inspect the expenses of your games, Augustus:
     you will read that many such things have been purchased for you at a great price.

Haec tu spectasti spectandaque saepe dedisti
      (maiestas adeo conlis ubique tua est)
luminibusque tuis, totus quibus utitur orbis,
     scaenica uidisti lentus adulteria.
Scribere si fas est imitantes turpia mimos,
     materiae minor est debita poena meae.
An genus hoc scripti faciunt sua pulpita tutum,
     quodque licet, mimis scaena licere dedit?

You have watched these things and have often given things to be watched
      (so everywhere is your majesty revered)
and with your eyes, which the whole orb makes use of,
     you have seen scenic adulteries unruffled.
If it is lawful to write mimes imitating shameful things,
     the penalty owed to my material is the lesser.
Or do their own stages make this kind of writing safe,
     and has the stage given that what is licit is licit to mimes?

Et mea sunt populo saltata poemata saepe,
     saepe oculos etiam detinuere tuos.
Scilicet in domibus nostris ut prisca uirorum
     artificis fulgent corpora picta manu,
sic quae concubitus uarios Venerisque figuras
     exprimat, est aliquo parua tabella loco:
utque sedet uultu fassus Telamonius iram,
     inque oculis facinus barbara mater habet,
sic madidos siccat digitis Venus uda capillos,
     et modo maternis tecta uidetur aquis.
Bella sonant alii telis instructa cruentis,
     parsque tui generis, pars tua facta canunt.

And my poems too have often been danced for the people,
     often they have even detained your eyes.
Surely, just as in our houses the ancient bodies of men
     shine, painted by an artificer’s hand,
so too a little panel that expresses various couplings and the figures of Venus
     is set somewhere in a certain place:
and as the Telamonian sits, his visage confessing anger,
     and the barbarian mother has the crime in her eyes,
so Venus, dripping, dries with her fingers her wet hair,
     and just now seems veiled by maternal waters.
Others sound forth wars equipped with bloody weapons,
     and part sing your lineage, part your deeds.

Inuida me spatio natura coercuit arto,
     ingenio uires exiguasque dedit
et tamen ille tuae felix Aeneidos auctor
     contulit in Tyrios arma uirumque toros,
nec legitur pars ulla magis de corpore toto,
     quam non legitimo foedere iunctus amor.
Phyllidis hic idem teneraeque Amaryllidis ignes
     bucolicis iuuenis luserat ante modis.
Nos quoque iam pridem scripto peccauimus isto:
     supplicium patitur non noua culpa nouum;
carminaque edideram, cum te delicta notantem
     praeteriit totiens inreprehensus eques.

Envious Nature has constrained me within a narrow span,
     and to my ingenium she gave exiguous powers and strength;
and yet that happy author of your Aeneid
     brought arms-and-the-man to Tyrian marriage-beds,
nor is any part of the whole body more read
     than a love not joined by a legitimate bond.
This same youth had earlier played with the fires of Phyllis
     and tender Amaryllis in bucolic modes.
I too long ago have sinned in that sort of writing:
     a not-new fault does not suffer a new punishment;
and I had published songs, when you, noting down delicts,
     so often the un-reprehended knight passed by you.

Ergo quae iuuenis mihi non nocitura putaui
     scripta parum prudens, nunc nocuere seni.
Sera redundauit ueteris uindicta libelli,
     distat et a meriti tempore poena sui.
Ne tamen omne meum credas opus esse remissum,
     saepe dedi nostrae grandia uela rati.

So the writings which, as a young man, I supposed would not be noxious to me,
     scarcely prudent, now have harmed me, an old man.
Belated overflowed the vendetta of the old little book,
     and the penalty stands apart from the time of its merit.
Yet do not believe all my work to be remiss;
     I have often given grand sails to our craft.

Sex ego Fastorum scripsi totidemque libellos,
     cumque suo finem mense uolumen habet,
idque tuo nuper scriptum sub nomine, Caesar,
     et tibi sacratum sors mea rupit opus;
et dedimus tragicis scriptum regale coturnis,
     quaeque grauis debet uerba coturnus habet;
dictaque sunt nobis, quamuis manus ultima coeptis
     defuit, in facies corpora uersa nouas.
Atque utinam reuoces animum paulisper ab ira,
     et uacuo iubeas hinc tibi pauca legi,
pauca, quibus prima surgens ab origine mundi
     in tua deduxi tempora, Caesar, opus:
aspicies, quantum dederis mihi pectoris ipse,
     quoque fauore animi teque tuosque canam.
Non ego mordaci destrinxi carmine quemquam,
     nec meus ullius crimina uersus habet.

I have written six books of the Fasti, and just so many little books,
     and each volume has its end with its own month,
and that work, lately written under your name, Caesar,
     and consecrated to you, my lot has shattered;
and I have given a royal piece written for tragic cothurni,
     and the cothurnus has the weighty words it ought to have;
and there were spoken by me—although the final hand to my undertakings
     was lacking—bodies turned into new faces.
And would that you would recall your spirit for a little from anger,
     and, when free, bid that a few things be read here to you,
a few, with which, rising from the first origin of the world,
     I have led the work down into your times, Caesar:
you will behold how much heart you yourself have given me,
     and with what favor of mind I shall sing of you and yours.
I have scored no one with mordacious song,
     nor does my verse contain the crimes of anyone.

Candidus a salibus suffusis felle refugi:
     nulla uenenato littera mixta ioco est.
Inter tot populi, tot scriptis, milia nostri,
     quem mea Calliope laeserit, unus ero.
Non igitur nostris ullum gaudere Quiritem
     auguror, at multos indoluisse malis;
nec mihi credibile est, quemquam insultasse iacenti,
     gratia candori si qua relata meo est
his, precor, atque aliis possint tua numina flecti,
     o pater, o patriae cura salusque tuae!

Candid, I shrank back from witticisms suffused with gall:
     no letter of mine is mixed with a venomous jest.
Amid so many of the people, so many thousands through my writings,
     I shall be the one person whom my Calliope has injured.
Therefore I augur that no Quirite rejoiced at my fortunes,
     but that many have grieved at my ills;
nor is it credible to me that anyone insulted me as I lay prostrate,
     if any favor has been returned to my candor.
By these, I pray, and by other things, may your numina be bent,
     O father, O care and salvation of your fatherland!

Non ut in Ausoniam redeam, nisi forsitan olim,
cum longo poenae tempore uictus eris,
tutius exilium pauloque quietius oro,
ut par delicto sit mea poena suo.

Not that I may return to Ausonia, unless perhaps someday,
when you are overcome by the long duration of my punishment,
I beg for an exile safer and a little more quiet,
so that my penalty may be equal to its own offense.