Propertius: ELEGIAE

QVAERITIS, unde mihi totiens scribantur amores,
unde meus veniat mollis in ore liber.
non haec Calliope, non haec mihi cantat Apollo.
ingenium nobis ipsa puella facit.

You ask, from where loves are so often written for me,
from where my book comes soft upon the lips.
not Calliope, not Apollo sings these for me.
the girl herself makes my genius.

sive illam Cois fulgentem incedere cogis,
    hac totum e Coa veste volumen erit;
seu vidi ad frontem sparsos errare capillos,
    gaudet laudatis ire superba comis;
sive lyrae carmen digitis percussit eburnis,
    miramur, facilis ut premat arte manus;
seu cum poscentis somnum declinat ocellos,
    invenio causas mille poeta novas;
seu nuda erepto mecum luctatur amictu,
    tum vero longas condimus Iliadas;
seu quidquid fecit sive est quodcumque locuta,
    maxima de nihilo nascitur historia.
quod mihi si tantum, Maecenas, fata dedissent,
    ut possem heroas ducere in arma manus,
non ego Titanas canerem, non Ossan Olympo
    impositam, ut caeli Pelion esset iter,
nec veteres Thebas, nec Pergama nomen Homeri,
    Xerxis et imperio bina coisse vada,
regnave prima Remi aut animos Carthaginis altae,
    Cimbrorumque minas et bene facta Mari:
bellaque resque tui memorarem Caesaris, et tu
    Caesare sub magno cura secunda fores.
nam quotiens Mutinam aut civilia busta Philippos
    aut canerem Siculae classica bella fugae,
eversosque focos antiquae gentis Etruscae,
    et Ptolomaeei litora capta Phari,
aut canerem Aegyptum et Nilum, cum attractus in urbem
    septem captivis debilis ibat aquis,
aut regum auratis circumdata colla catenis,
    Actiaque in Sacra currere rostra Via;
te mea Musa illis semper contexeret armis,
    et sumpta et posita pace fidele caput:
Theseus infernis, superis testatur Achilles,
    hic Ixioniden, ille Menoetiaden.

whether you bid her advance shining in Coan silks,
    this whole volume will be from Coan vesture;
or if I have seen hairs scattered, wandering at her brow,
    she rejoices, proud to go with praised tresses;
or if she has struck a song on the lyre with ivory fingers,
    we marvel how facilely her hand presses with art;
or when she lowers her little eyes asking for sleep,
    as a poet I find a thousand new causes;
or naked she wrestles with me, her mantle snatched away,
    then indeed we compose long Iliads;
or whatever she has done or whatever she has spoken,
    the greatest history is born from nothing.
but if the fates, Maecenas, had granted me only so much,
    that I could lead heroic hands to arms,
I would not sing the Titans, nor Ossa set on Olympus
    so that Pelion might be a road to the sky,
nor ancient Thebes, nor Pergama, the name of Homer,
    and the twin shallows to have come together at Xerxes’ command,
or the first reigns of Remus or the spirits of high Carthage,
    and the threats of the Cimbri and the well-done deeds of Marius:
and I would recount the wars and acts of your Caesar, and you
    under great Caesar would be the second care.
for as often as I would sing Mutina or Philippi, the civil tombs,
    or the war-trumpets and battles of the Sicilian flight,
and the overturned hearths of the ancient Etruscan nation,
    and the captured shores of Ptolemaean Pharos,
or I would sing Egypt and the Nile, when, drawn into the city,
    it went feeble with its seven captive waters,
or the necks of kings encircled with gilded chains,
    and the Actian prows running along the Sacred Way;
my Muse would always weave you into those arms—
    a faithful head both with peace taken up and laid down:
Theseus testifies in the underworld, Achilles among the gods above—
    this one to Ixion’s son, that one to Menoetius’s son.

*******
sed neque Phlegraeos Iovis Enceladique tumultus
    intonet angusto pectore Callimachus,
nec mea conveniunt duro praecordia versu
    Caesaris in Phrygios condere nomen avos.
navita de ventis, de tauris narrat arator,
    enumerat miles vulnera, pastor ovis;
nos contra angusto versantes proelia lecto:
    qua pote quisque, in ea conterat arte diem.
laus in amore mori: laus altera, si datur uno
    posse frui: fruar o solus amore meo!

*******
but neither let Callimachus thunder forth the Phlegraean tumults of Jove and Enceladus
    with his narrow breast, nor do my precordia agree with a hard verse
    to found Caesar’s name upon his Phrygian ancestors.
the sailor tells of winds, the ploughman of bulls,
    the soldier counts up wounds, the shepherd his sheep;
we, contrariwise, turning over battles upon a narrow couch:
    let each, as he is able, wear away the day in that art.
praise it is to die in love: another praise, if it is given,
    to be able to enjoy one alone: may I, O, enjoy my love alone!

si memini, solet illa levis culpare puellas,
    et totam ex Helena non probat Iliada.
seu mihi sunt tangenda novercae pocula Phaedrae,
    pocula privigno non nocitura suo,
seu mihi Circaeo pereundum est gramine, sive
    Colchis Iolciacis urat aena focis,
una meos quoniam praedata est femina sensus,
    ex hac ducentur funera nostra domo.
omnis humanos sanat medicina dolores:
    solus amor morbi non amat artificem.

If I remember, that frivolous one is wont to blame girls,
    and she does not approve the whole Iliad on account of Helen.
Whether Phaedra the stepmother’s cups must be touched by me,
    cups that will not harm her own stepson,
or if I must perish by Circaean herb, or
    let the Colchian burn her cauldrons on Iolcian hearths,
since one woman has plundered my senses,
    from this house my funeral will be led forth.
Medicine heals all human pains:
    love alone, as a disease, does not love an artificer.

tarda Philoctetae sanavit crura Machaon,
    Phoenicis Chiron lumina Phillyrides,
et deus exstinctum Cressis Epidaurius herbis
    restituit patriis Androgeona focis,
Mysus et Haemonia iuvenis qua cuspide vulnus
    senserat, hac ipsa cuspide sensit opem.
hoc si quis vitium poterit mihi demere, solus
    Tantalea poterit tradere poma manu;
dolia virgineis idem ille repleverit urnis,
    ne tenera assidua colla graventur aqua;
idem Caucasia solvet de rupe Promethei
    bracchia et a medio pectore pellet avem.
quandocumque igitur vitam mea fata reposcent,
    et breve in exiguo marmore nomen ero,
Maecenas, nostrae spes invidiosa iuventae,
    et vitae et morti gloria iusta meae,
si te forte meo ducet via proxima busto,
    esseda caelatis siste Britanna iugis,
taliaque illacrimans mutae iace verba favillae:
    'Huic misero fatum dura puella fuit.'

slow Philoctetes’ shanks Machaon healed,
    Chiron the Phillyridan restored the eyes of Phoenix,
and the Epidaurian god with Cretan herbs
    brought Androgeon back to his father’s hearths,
and the Mysian and the Haemonian youth, by the spear-point
    wherewith he had felt the wound, by this very spear-point he felt the aid.
if anyone can take away this affliction from me, he alone
    could hand over the Tantalean apples with his own hand;
the same man will fill the casks with maidenly urns,
    lest tender necks be weighed down by constant water;
the same will loose from the Caucasian crag the arms of Prometheus
    and will drive the bird from the middle of his breast.
whenever therefore my fates shall demand my life,
    and I shall be a brief name on a small marble,
Maecenas, the hope—envied—of our youth,
    and the just glory of both my life and my death,
if by chance a nearest way shall lead you by my tomb,
    halt your British essedum with its embossed yokes,
and weeping cast such words to the mute ashes:
    'For this wretch a hard-hearted girl was his fate.'

LIBER eram et vacuo meditabar vivere lecto;
at me composita pace fefellit Amor.
cur haec in terris facies humana moratur?
Iuppiter, ignosco pristina furta tua.

I was free and was meditating to live with an empty bed;
but Love, with a truce arranged, deceived me.
why does this human visage tarry on earth?
Jupiter, I pardon your former thefts.

fulva coma est longaeque manus, et maxima toto
    corpore, et incedit vel Iove digna soror,
aut cum Dulichias Pallas spatiatur ad aras,
    Gorgonis anguiferae pectus operta comis;
qualis et Ischomache Lapithae genus heroine,
    Centauris medio grata rapina mero;
Mercurio satis fertur Boebeidos undis
    virgineum Brimo composuisse latus.
cedite iam, divae, quas pastor viderat olim
    Idaeis tunicas ponere verticibus!
hanc utinam faciem nolit mutare senectus,
    etsi Cumaeae saecula vatis aget!

fulvous is her hair and her hands are long, and she is very great in her whole
    body, and she advances a sister worthy even of Jove;
or when Pallas walks to the Dulichian altars,
    her breast covered with the locks of the anguiferous Gorgon;
such as also Ischomache, a heroine of Lapithaean race,
    a welcome seizure to the Centaurs amid their wine;
it is reported that Mercury on the Boebeian waves
    joined his side with the virginal Brimo.
yield now, goddesses, whom the shepherd once had seen
    to put off tunics on the Idaean peaks!
would that old age not wish to change this face,
    even if it will live out the ages of the Cumaean prophetess!

III

'Qvi nullum tibi dicebas iam posse nocere,
    haesisti, cecidit spiritus ille tuus!
vix unum potes, infelix, requiescere mensem,
    et turpis de te iam liber alter erit.'
quaerebam, sicca si posset piscis harena
    nec solitus ponto vivere torvus aper;
aut ego si possem studiis vigilare severis:
    differtur, numquam tollitur ullus amor.
nec me tam facies, quamvis sit candida, cepit
    (lilia non domina sint magis alba mea;
ut Maeotica nix minio si certet Hibero,
    utque rosae puro lacte natant folia),
nec de more comae per levia colla fluentes,
    non oculi, geminae, sidera nostra, faces,
nec si qua Arabio lucet bombyce puella
    (non sum de nihilo blandus amator ego):
quantum quod posito formose saltat Iaccho,
    egit ut euhantis dux Ariadna choros,
et quantum, Aeolio cum temptat carmina plectro,
    par Aganippeae ludere docta lyrae;
et sua cum antiquae committit scripta Corinnae,
    carmina quae quivis non putat aequa suis.

'You, who said that nothing now could harm you,
    you’re stuck fast, that spirit of yours has fallen!
scarcely can you, ill‑fated, rest for one month,
    and a second shameful book about you will now be out.'
I was asking whether a fish could in dry sand,
    and the grim boar, not used to the deep, could live in the sea;
or whether I could keep vigil at severe studies:
    love is deferred, never is any love removed.
nor did her face, though it is fair, so capture me
    (let lilies not be whiter than my mistress;
as Maeotic snow might vie with Iberian minium,
    and as the petals of roses float on pure milk),
nor the locks flowing down in customary fashion over her smooth neck,
    not her eyes, our twin stars, twin torches,
nor if some girl shines in Arabian silk
    (I am not a charming lover for nothing):
so much as that, with Bacchus set aside, she dances beautifully,
    as Ariadne, leader, led the “euhoe!”‑shouting choruses,
and as much, when she essays songs with an Aeolian plectrum,
    skilled to play on a par with the Aganippean lyre;
and when Corinna matches her own writings with those of ancient Corinna,
    songs to which no one thinks his own equal.

num tibi nascenti primis, mea vita, diebus
    candidus argutum sternuit omen Amor?
haec tibi contulerunt caelestia munera divi,
    haec tibi ne matrerm forte dedisse putes.
non non humani partus sunt talia dona:
    ista decem menses non peperere bona.

Was it for you, at your being born in the first days, my life,
    that bright Love sneezed a clear-sounding omen?
These celestial gifts the gods have bestowed on you—
    do not perhaps think your mother gave you these.
No, no: such gifts are not of a human birth;
    ten months did not beget these good things.

gloria Romanis una es tu nata puellis:
    Romana accumbes prima puella Iovi,
nec semper nobiscum humana cubilia vises;
    post Helenam haec terris forma secunda redit.
hac ego nunc mirer si flagret nostra iuventus?
    pulchrius hac fuerat, Troia, perire tibi.

you alone are the glory born to Roman maidens:
    as a Roman girl you will recline first with Jove,
nor will you always visit with us human couches;
    after Helen, this form/beauty returns to the lands as second.
should I now marvel if our youth flames for this one?
    it had been fairer, Troy, to perish for this one.

olim mirabar, quod tanti ad Pergama belli
    Europae atque Asiae causa puella fuit:
nunc, Pari, tu sapiens et tu, Menelae, fuisti,
    tu quia poscebas, tu quia lentus eras.
digna quidem facies, pro qua vel obiret Achilles;
    vel Priamo belli causa probanda fuit.
si quis vult fama tabulas anteire vetustas,
    hic dominam exemplo ponat in arte meam:
sive illam Hesperiis, sive illam ostendet Eois,
    uret et Eoos, uret et Hesperios.

Once I used to marvel that a girl was the cause for Europe and Asia to go to Pergama for a war so great:
    now, Paris, you were wise, and you too, Menelaus—
you because you were demanding, you because you were tardy.
    Indeed a face worthy, for which even Achilles might die;
or for Priam a cause of war that should be approved.
    If someone wishes by fame to go before ancient panels,
let him set my lady as his model in his art:
    whether he shows her to the Hesperians or shows her to the Eoans,
she will scorch both the Eoans and the Hesperians.

his saltem ut tenear iam finibus! aut mihi, si quis,
    acrior, ut moriar, venerit alter amor!
ac veluti primo taurus detractat aratra,
    post venit assueto mollis ad arva iugo,
sic primo iuvenes trepidant in amore feroces,
    dehinc domiti post haec aequa et iniqua ferunt.

at least let me now be held by these bounds! or let another love, if any sharper, come to me, so that I may die!
and just as at first the bull draws back from the ploughs,
afterwards he comes gentle to the fields with the accustomed yoke,
so at first young men, fierce, tremble in love,
thereafter, once tamed, after this they bear the fair and the unfair.

turpia perpessus vates est vincla Melampus,
cognitus Iphicli surripuisse boves;
quem non lucra, magis Pero formosa coegit,
mox Amythaonia nupta futura domo.

Melampus, the seer, endured shameful chains,
known to have surreptitiously stolen the oxen of Iphiclus;
whom not lucre, but rather beauteous Pero, compelled,
soon to be a bride in the Amythaonian house.

MVLTA prius dominae delicta queraris oportet,
    saepe roges aliquid, saepe repulsus eas,
et saepe immeritos corrumpas dentibus unguis,
    et crepitum dubio suscitet ira pede!
nequiquam perfusa meis unguenta capillis,
    ibat et expenso planta morata gradu.
non hic herba valet, non hic nocturna Cytaeis,
    non Perimedaeae gramina cocta manus;
nam cui non ego sum fallaci praemia vati?

MANY delicts of the mistress you must first complain of,
    often you should ask for something, often go away repulsed,
and often you spoil unmeriting nails with your teeth,
    and let anger rouse a creak with a wavering foot!
in vain unguents poured upon my hair,
    she was going, and with a weighed step her sole lingered.
here no herb avails, here no night-magic of the Cytaean,
    nor the grasses boiled by Perimede’s hand;
for to what deceiving vates am I not the prize?

    quae mea non decies somnia versat anus?
quippe ubi nec causas nec apertos cernimus ictus,
    unde tamen veniant tot mala caeca via est;
non eget hic medicis, non lectis mollibus aeger,
    huic nullum caeli tempus et aura nocet;
ambulat‹et subito mirantur funus amici!
    sic est incautum, quidquid habetur amor.

    what old woman does not turn my dreams over ten times?
indeed, where we discern neither causes nor overt blows,
    whence, however, so many evils come, the path is blind;
the sick man here has no need of physicians, nor of soft beds,
    to him no season of the sky and no breeze does harm;
ambulat‹et suddenly his friends marvel at a funeral!
    thus incautious is whatever is held as love.

hostis si quis erit nobis, amet ille puellas:
    gaudeat in puero, si quis amicus erit.
tranquillo tuta descendis flumine cumba:
    quid tibi tam parvi litoris unda nocet?
alter saepe uno mutat praecordia Verbo,
    altera vix ipso sanguine mollis erit.

If anyone shall be an enemy to us, let him love girls:
    let him rejoice in a boy, if anyone shall be a friend.
On a tranquil river the skiff descends in safety:
    what harm does the wave of so small a shore do to you?
the one often changes his inmost heart with a single word,
    the other will scarcely be softened even by his very blood.

Hoc verum est, tota te ferri, Cynthia, Roma,
et non ignota vivere nequitia?
haec merui sperare? dabis mihi, perfida, poenas;
et nobis aliquo, Cynthia, ventus erit.

Is this true, that all Rome is borne away by you, Cynthia,
and that you live in notorious wantonness?
Is this what I deserved to hope for? You will pay me, perfidious one, the penalties;
and for us too, Cynthia, there will be some wind.

inveniam tamen e multis fallacibus unam,
    quae fieri nostro carmine nota velit,
nec mihi tam duris insultet moribus et te
    vellicet: heu sero flebis amata diu.
nunc est ira recens, nunc est discedere tempus:
    si dolor afuerit, crede, redibit amor.
non ita Carpathiae variant Aquilonibus undae,
    nec dubio nubes vertitur atra Noto,
quam facile irati verbo mutantur amantes:
    dum licet, iniusto subtrahe colla iugo.

I will find yet one out of many fallacious women,
    who is willing to become known by my song,
and who will not so with harsh manners insult me and
    needle you: alas, beloved long, you will weep too late.
now wrath is fresh, now is the time to depart:
    if pain is absent, believe me, love will return.
not so do Carpathian waves vary with the Aquilons,
    nor is a dark cloud turned by the doubtful Notus,
as easily as angry lovers are changed by a word:
    while it is permitted, withdraw your neck from the unjust yoke.

nec tu non aliquid, sed prima nocte, dolebis;
    omne in amore malum, si patiare, leve est.
at tu per dominae Iunonis dulcia iura
    parce tuis animis, vita, nocere tibi.
non solum taurus ferit uncis cornibus hostem,
    verum etiam instanti laesa repugnat ovis.

and you too will feel something—yes, on the first night you will grieve;
    every evil in love, if you allow it, is light.
but you, by the sweet rights of lady Juno,
    spare your own spirits, my life, from harming yourself.
not only does the bull strike the foe with hooked horns,
    but even the sheep, when wounded, resists one pressing on.

nec tibi periuro scindam de corpore vestis,
    nec mea praeclusas fregerit ira fores,
nec tibi conexos iratus carpere crinis,
    nec duris ausim laedere pollicibus:
rusticus haec aliquis tam turpia proelia quaerat,
    cuius non hederae circuiere caput.
scribam igitur, quod non umquam tua deleat aetas,
    'Cynthia, forma potens; Cynthia, verba levis.'
crede mihi, quamvis contemnas murmura famae,
    hic tibi pallori, Cynthia, versus erit.

nor will I tear garments from your perjured body,
    nor will my anger break your barred doors,
nor, angered, will I pluck at your braided tresses,
    nor would I dare to injure with hard thumbs:
let some rustic seek such so disgraceful battles,
    whose head ivy has not encircled.
I will write, then, what your age will never delete,
    'Cynthia, potent in form; Cynthia, light in words.'
believe me, although you disdain the murmurs of fame,
    this verse will be for your pallor, Cynthia.

NON ita complebant Ephyraeae Laidos aedis,
    ad cuius iacuit Graecia toea fores;
turba Menandreae fuerat nec Thaidos olim
    tanta, in qua populus lusit Erichthonius;
nec quae deletas potuit cormponere Thebas,
    Phryne tam multis facta beata viris.
quin etiam falsos fingis tibi saepe propinquos,
    oscula nec desunt qui tibi iure ferant.
me iuvenum pictae facies, me nomina laedunt,
    me tener in cunis et sine voce puer;
me laedet, si multa tibi dabit oscula mater,
    me soror et cum quae dormit amica simul:
omnia me laedent: timidus sum (ignosce timori)
    et miser in tunica suspicor esse virum.

Not even so did they throng the house of Ephyraean Lais,
    at whose doors all Greece lay;
nor was ever the crowd of Menander’s Thais
    so great, wherein the Erichthonian people made sport;
nor she who could re-compose Thebes laid waste,
    Phryne, was made blessed by so many men.
nay more, you often fashion false kinsfolk for yourself,
    nor are lacking those who bring you kisses by right.
me the painted faces of youths, me their names, wound,
    me the tender infant in the cradle and without a voice;
it will wound me, if your mother gives you many kisses,
    me your sister, and the girlfriend who sleeps with you as well:
everything will wound me: I am fearful (pardon the fear)
    and, wretched, I suspect there is a man in the tunic.

his olim, ut fama est, vitiis ad proelia ventum est,
    his Troiana vides funera principiis;
aspera Centauros eadem dementia iussit
    frangere in adversum pocula Pirithoum.
cur exempla petam Graium? tu criminis auctor
    nutritus duro, Romule, lacte lupae:
tu rapere intactas docuisti impune Sabinas:
    per te nunc Romae quidlibet audet Amor.

By these vices once, as rumor has it, it came to battles,
    from such beginnings you see the Trojan funerals;
the same madness ordered the rough Centaurs
    to shatter cups against Pirithous in hostility.
why should I seek examples of the Greeks? you, author of the crime,
    Romulus, nourished on the hard milk of the she-wolf:
you taught to seize the untouched Sabine women with impunity;
    through you now at Rome Love dares anything whatsoever.

felix Admeti coniunx et lectus Vlixis,
    et quaecumque viri femina limen amat!
templa Pudicitiae quid opus statuisse puellis,
    si cuivis nuptae quidlibet esse licet?
quae manus obscenas depinxit prima tabellas
    et posuit casta turpia visa domo,
illa puellarum ingenuos eorrupit ocellos
    nequitiaeque suae noluit esse rudis.

happy the wife of Admetus and the bed of Ulysses,
    and whatever woman loves the threshold of her man!
what need was there to have set up temples of Pudicity for maidens,
    if any wedded woman is allowed to be whatever she pleases?
what hand first depicted obscene panels
    and set disgraceful sights in a chaste house,
that one corrupted the ingenuous little eyes of girls
    and did not wish her own wantonness to be untrained.

a gemat, in terris, ista qui protulit arte
turpia sub tacita condita laetitia!
non istis olim variabant tecta figuris:
tum paries nullo crimine pictus erat.
sed non immerito!

Ah, let him groan, on earth, whoever brought forth by that art
shameful things, hidden beneath tacit joy!
In former times they did not variegate the roofs with such figures:
then the wall was painted with no crime.
but not undeservedly!

velavit aranea fanum
    et mala desertos occupat herba deos.
quos igitur tibi custodes, quae limina ponam,
    quae numquam supra pes inimicus eat?
nam nihil invitae tristis custodia prodest:
    quam peccare pudet, Cynthia, tuta sat est.

a spider has veiled the fane,
    and the evil herb seizes the deserted gods.
what guardians, then, shall I set for you, what thresholds,
    that an enemy foot may never pass above?
for a grim custody avails nothing to one unwilling:
    she whom it shames to sin, Cynthia, is safe enough.

nos uxor numquam, numquam seducet amica:
semper amica mihi, semper et uxor eris.

no wife ever, never will a girlfriend seduce me:
always my girlfriend, and always my wife you will be.

VII

GAVISA est certe sublatam Cynthia legem,
    qua quondam edicta flemus uterque diu,
ni nos divideret: quamvis diducere amantis
    non queat invitos Iuppiter ipse duos.
'At magnus Caesar.' sed magnus Caesar in armis:
    devictae gentes nil in amore valent.
nam citius paterer caput hoc discedere collo
    quam possem nuptae perdere more faces,
aut ego transirem tua limina clausa maritus,
    respiciens udis prodita luminibus.

Cynthia surely rejoiced that the law was lifted,
    when that edict was once proclaimed, we both wept for long,
lest it divide us: although not even Jupiter himself can draw asunder two lovers unwilling.
    'But great Caesar.'—yet great Caesar is great in arms:
    conquered nations avail nothing in love.
for I would sooner allow this head to part from my neck
    than I could, according to the bridal custom, extinguish the torches,
or as a husband pass by your barred threshold,
    looking back, betrayed by eyes made wet.

a mea tum qualis caneret tibi tibia somnos,
tibia, funesta tristior illa tuba!
unde mihi Parthis natos praebere triumphis?
nullus de nostro sanguine miles erit.

Ah, my dear, then how the tibia would sing slumbers for you,
the tibia, sadder than that funereal tuba!
Whence for me to provide sons for Parthian triumphs?
No soldier will be from our blood.

quod si vera meae comitarent castra puellae,
    non mihi sat magnus Castoris iret equus.
hinc etenim tantum meruit mea gloria nomen,
    gloria ad hibernos lata Borysthenidas.
tu mihi sola places: placeam tibi, Cynthia, solus:
    hic erit et patrio nomine pluris amor.

but if a true girl of mine should accompany my camp,
    not even the mighty horse of Castor would suffice for me.
for from this indeed my glory deserved so great a name,
    glory borne to the wintry Borysthenides.
you alone please me: may I, Cynthia, alone please you:
    here, too, love will be of more value than the ancestral name.

VIII

ERIPITVR nobis iam pridem cara puella:
et tu me lacrimas fundere, amice, vetas?
nullae sunt inimicitiae nisi amoris acerbae:
ipsum me iugula, lenior hostis ero.
possum ego in alterius positam spectare lacerto?

Our dear girl has for some time now been snatched from us:
and you, friend, forbid me to pour out tears?
there are no enmities save love’s, bitter ones:
slaughter me myself; I shall be a gentler foe.
can I look on while she is set upon another’s arm?

    nec mea dicetur, quae modo dicta mea est?
omnia vertuntur: certe vertuntur amores:
    vinceris aut vincis, haec in amore rota est.
magni saepe duces, magni cecidere tyranni,
    et Thebae steterant altaque Troia fuit.

    nor will she be called mine, who just now was called mine?
all things are turned: surely loves are turned:
    you are conquered or you conquer; this is the wheel in love.
Often great generals, great tyrants have fallen,
    and Thebes had stood and lofty Troy was.

munera quanta dedi vel qualia carmina feci!
illa tamen numquam ferrea dixit 'Amo.'
ergo iam multos nimium temerarius annos,
improba, qui tulerim teque tuamque domum?
ecquandone tibi liber sum visus?

what great gifts I have given, or what kinds of songs I have made!
yet that iron-hearted woman never said, 'I love.'
therefore now for many years, too temerarious,
shameless one, how have I borne you and your house?
has there ever at any time I seemed free to you?

an usque
in nostrum iacies verba superba caput?
sic igitur prima moriere aetate, Properti?
sed morere; interitu gaudeat illa tuo!

or forever
will you cast haughty words upon my head? Thus then will you die in your first age, Propertius?
but die; let that woman rejoice in your death!

exagitet nostros Manis, sectetur et umbras,
    insultetque rogis, calcet et ossa mea!
quid? non Antigonae tumulo Boeotius Haemon
    corruit ipse suo saucius ense latus,
et sua cum miserae permiscuit ossa puellae,
    qua sine Thebanam noluit ire domum?

let him harry my Manes, and pursue the shades,
    and insult the pyres, and trample even my bones!
What? Did not the Boeotian Haemon fall at Antigone’s tomb,
    his side wounded by his own sword,
and commingle his bones with those of the wretched girl,
    without whom he did not wish to go to the Theban home?

sed non effugies: mecum moriaris oportet;
    hoc eodem ferro stillet uterque cruor.
quamvis ista mihi mors est inhonesta futura:
    mors inhonesta quidem, tu moriere tamen.
ille etiam abrepta desertus coniuge Achilles
    cessare in tectis pertulit arma sua.

but you will not escape: you must die with me;
    from this same iron let the blood of both drip.
although that death for me is going to be dishonorable:
    a dishonorable death indeed, yet you will die nonetheless.
even Achilles, deserted with his consort snatched away,
    endured that his arms should be idle in his quarters.

viderat ille fuga, stratos in litore Achivos,
    fervere et Hectorea Dorica castra face;
viderat informem multa Patroclon harena
    porrectum et sparsas caede iacere comas,
omnia formosam propter Briseida passus:
    tantus in erepto saevit amore dolor.
at postquam sera captiva est reddita poena,
    fortem illum Haemoniis Hectora traxit equis.
inferior multo cum sim vel matre vel armis,
    mirum, si de me iure triumphat Amor?

he had seen, in rout, the Achaeans strewn on the shore,
    and the Doric camps seethe with a Hectorean torch;
he had seen Patroclus shapeless with much sand,
    stretched out, and his locks lying scattered with slaughter,
all things endured on account of the beautiful Briseis:
    so great a pain rages in love when it is snatched away.
but after the captive was returned as a late penalty,
    he dragged that brave Hector with Haemonian horses.
since I am much inferior either in mother or in arms,
    is it a wonder if Love triumphs over me by right?

ISTE quod est, ego saepe fui: sed fors et in hora
    hoc ipso eiecto carior alter erit.
Penelope poterat bis denos salva per annos
    vivere, tam multis femina digna procis;
coniugium falsa poterat differre Minerva,
    nocturno solvens texta diurna dolo;
visura et quamvis numquam speraret Vlixem,
    illum exspectando facta remansit anus.
nec non exanimem amplectens Briseis Achillem
    candida vesana verberat ora manu;
et dominum lavit maerens captiva cruentum,
    propositum flavis in Simoenta vadis,
foedavitque comas, et tanti corpus Achilli
    maximaque in parva sustulit ossa manu;
cum tibi nec Peleus aderat nec caerula mater,
    Scyria nec viduo Deidamia toro.

That which this one is, I have often been: but perhaps even within an hour,
    this very one cast out, another will be dearer.
Penelope could live safe for twice ten years,
    a woman worthy of so many suitors;
she could defer the marriage by a feigned Minerva,
    undoing by night the webs woven by day with a ruse;
and though she never hoped ever to see Ulysses,
    by waiting for him she remained made an old woman.
nor indeed, embracing lifeless Achilles, did Briseis not
    with her fair frenzied hand beat her face;
and the captive, mourning, washed her blood-stained lord,
    laid out in the golden shallows of the Simois,
and she defiled her hair, and the body of so great an Achilles
    and his very great bones she lifted with a small hand;
while for you neither Peleus was present nor the sea-blue mother,
    nor Deidamia of Scyros on a widowed couch.

tunc igitur veris gaudebat Graecia nuptis,
    tunc etiam felix inter et arma pudor.
at tu non una potuisti nocte vacare,
    impia, non unum sola manere diem!
quin etiam multo duxistis pocula risu:
    forsitan et de me verba fuere mala.

then therefore Greece rejoiced in true marriages,
    then too, even amid arms, modesty was fortunate.
but you could not be free for a single night,
    impious one, nor remain alone for one day!
nay rather, you even drained the cups with much laughter:
    perhaps too there were evil words about me.

hic etiam petitur, qui te prius ante reliquit:
    di faciant, isto capta fruare viro!
haec mihi vota tuam propter suscepta salutem,
    cum capite hoc Stygiae iam poterentur aquae,
et lectum flentes circum staremus amici?
    hic ubi tum, pro di, perfida, quisve fuit?

even this man is wooed, the one who earlier left you first:
    may the gods grant that, captured by that man, you enjoy him!
these vows were undertaken by me for your safety,
    when the Stygian waters were already able to lay claim to this head,
and weeping friends stood around the bed?
    where was he then, here—ah, gods!—faithless one, or who was there?

quid si longinquos retinerer miles ad Indos,
    aut mea si staret navis in Oceano?
sed vobis facile est verba et componere fraudes:
    hoc unum didicit femina semper opus.
non sic incerto mutantur flamine Syrtes,
    nec folia hiberno tam tremefacta Noto,
quam cito feminea non constat foedus in ira,
    sive ea causa gravis sive ea causa levis.

what if I were detained as a soldier far off among the Indians,
    or if my ship were standing in the Ocean?
but for you it is easy to frame words and compose frauds:
    this one work a woman has always learned.
not so are the Syrtes changed by an uncertain blast,
    nor leaves so tremble-stricken by the wintry Notus,
as quickly as a woman’s compact fails to hold in anger,
    whether the cause be grave or whether the cause be light.

nunc, quoniam ista tibi placuit sententia, cedam:
    tela, precor, pueri, promite acuta magis,
figite certantes atque hanc mihi solvite vitam!
    sanguis erit vobis maxima palma meus.
sidera sunt testes et matutina pruina
    et furtim misero ianua aperta mihi,
te nihil in vita nobis acceptius umquam:
    nunc quoque erit, quamvis sis inimica, nihil.

now, since that sentiment has pleased you, I will yield:
    boys, I pray, bring forth weapons sharper still,
pierce me as you vie, and release this life from me!
    my blood will be for you the greatest palm.
the stars are witnesses and the matutinal frost
    and the door stealthily opened for wretched me,
that nothing in life has ever been more acceptable to me than you:
    even now, though you are inimical, there will be nothing dearer.

nec domina ulla meo ponet vestigia lecto:
    solus ero, quoniam non licet esse tuum.
atque utinam, si forte pios eduximus annos,
    ille vir in medio fiat amore lapis!
*******
non ob regna magis diris cecidere sub armis
    Thebani media non sine matre duces,
quam, mihi si media liceat pugnare puella,
mortem ego non fugiam morte subire tua.

nor will any mistress set footprints upon my bed:
    I shall be alone, since it is not permitted to be yours.
and would that, if perchance we have led out dutiful years,
    that husband might become a stone in the midst of our love!
*******
not more for realms did the Thebans fall beneath dire arms—
    their leaders, not without their mother between—,
than I, if it were permitted me to fight with the girl between,
I would not flee to undergo death—to die your death.

SED tempus lustrare aliis Helicona choreis,
    et campum Haemonio iam dare tempus equo.
iam libet et fortis memorare ad proelia turmas
    et Romana mei dicere castra ducis.
quod si deficiant vires, audacia certe
    laus erit: in magnis et voluisse sat est.

BUT it is time to survey Helicon with other choirs,
    and now it is time to give the field to the Haemonian horse.
now it pleases me also to commemorate the brave squadrons for battles
    and to speak of the Roman camps of my leader.
but if my forces should fail, audacity surely
    will be praise: in great things even to have willed is enough.

aetas prima canat Veneres, extrema tumultus:
    bella canam, quando scripta puella mea est.
nunc volo subducto gravior procedere vultu,
    nunc aliam citharam me mea Musa docet.
surge, anima, ex humili; iam, carmine, sumite vires;
    Pierides, magni nunc erit oris opus.

Let the first age sing of Loves, the last of tumults:
    I shall sing wars, since my girl has been written.
now I wish to proceed with a graver, drawn-up countenance,
    now my Muse teaches me another cithara.
rise, spirit, from the lowly; now, my song, take up strength;
    Pierides, now there will be work for a great mouth.

iam negat Euphrates equitem post terga tueri
    Parthorum et Crassos se tenuisse dolet:
India quin, Auguste, tuo dat colla triumpho,
    et domus intactae te tremit Arabiae;
et si qua extremis tellus se subtrahit oris,
    sentiat illa tuas postmodo capta manus!
haec ego castra sequar; vates tua castra canendo
    magnus ero: servent hunc mihi fata diem!
at caput in magnis ubi non est tangere signis,
    ponitur hac imos ante corona pedes;
sic nos nunc, inopes laudis conscendere carmen,
    pauperibus sacris vilia tura damus.

now the Euphrates denies the horseman of the Parthians to look back over his shoulders,
    and laments that it held the Crassi: nay rather, Augustus, India gives its neck to your triumph,
and the house of untouched Arabia trembles at you;
    and if any land withdraws itself at the farthest shores,
let it, once captured hereafter, feel your hands!
    these camps I shall follow; as a vates I shall be great by singing your camps—
let the Fates keep this day for me!
    but where it is not possible to touch the head upon great statues,
a garland is placed here before at their lowest feet;
    so we now, poor in praise to mount the song,
we offer cheap incense to poor rites.

nondum etiam Ascraeos norunt mea carmina fontis,
sed modo Permessi flumine lavit Amor.

Not yet even do my songs know the Ascraean founts,
but just now Love bathed in the river Permessus.

SCRIBANT de te alii vel sis ignota licebit:
    laudet, qui sterili semina ponit humo.
omnia, crede mihi, tecum uno munera lecto
    auferet extremi funeris atra dies;
et tua transibit contemnens ossa viator,
    nec dicet 'Cinis hic docta puella fuit.'

LET others write of you, or be unknown, it will be permitted:
    let him praise, who plants seeds in sterile soil.
all your endowments, believe me, with you upon a single bier
    the black day of the final funeral will carry off;
and a traveler will pass by your bones, contemning them,
    nor will he say, 'Ash here: a learned girl was.'

XII

QVICVMQVE ille fuit, puerum qui pinxit Amorem,
    nonne putas miras hunc habuisse manus?
is primum vidit sine sensu vivere amantis,
    et levibus curis magna perire bona.
idem non frustra ventosas addidit alas,
    fecit et humano corde volare deum:
scilicet alterna quoniam iactamur in unda,
    nostraque non ullis permanet aura locis.

WHOEVER he was, who painted Love as a boy,
    do you not think this one had wondrous hands?
he first saw that lovers live without sense,
    and that great goods perish by light cares.
the same man not in vain added windy wings,
    and made the god fly in the human heart:
naturally, since we are tossed on an alternate wave,
    and our breeze does not remain in any places.

et merito hamatis manus est armata sagittis,
    et pharetra ex umero Cnosia utroque iacet:
ante ferit quoniam, tuti quam cernimus hostem,
    nec quisquam ex illo vulnere sanus abit.
in me tela manent, manet et puerilis imago:
    sed certe pennas perdidit ille suas;
evolat heu nostro quoniam de pectore nusquam,
    assiduusque meo sanguine bella gerit.
quid tibi iucundum est siccis habitare medullis?

and with merit his hand is armed with barbed arrows,
    and a Cnossian quiver lies from either shoulder:
since he strikes before we, secure, discern the enemy,
    nor does anyone go away sound from that wound.
in me the shafts remain, and the boyish image remains too:
    but surely he has lost his wings;
since, alas, he nowhere flies out from my breast,
    and, assiduous, he wages wars with my blood.
what is pleasing to you about dwelling in dry marrow?

    si pudor est, alio traice tela una!
intactos isto satius temptare veneno:
    non ego, sed tenuis vapulat umbra mea.
quam si perdideris, quis erit qui talia cantet,
    (haec mea Musa levis gloria magna tua est),
qui caput et digitos et lumina nigra puellae,
    et canat ut soleant molliter ire pedes?

    if you have any shame, aim your weapons elsewhere with a single shaft!
it is better to test the untouched with that venom:
    it is not I, but my slight shadow that is flogged.
and if you destroy that, who will there be to sing such things,
    (this my light Muse is your great glory),
who will sing the head and the fingers and the black eyes of the girl,
    and sing how her feet are wont to go softly?

XIII

NON tot Achaemeniis armantur etrusca sagittis
    spicula quot nostro pectore fixit Amor.
hic me tam gracilis vetuit contemnere Musas,
    iussit et Ascraeum sic habitare nemus,
non ut Pieriae quercus mea verba sequantur,
    aut possim Ismaria ducere valle feras,
sed magis ut nostro stupefiat Cynthia versu:
    tunc ego sim Inachio notior arte Lino.
non ego sum formae tantum mirator honestae,
    nec si qua illustris femina iactat avos:
me iuvet in gremio doctae legisse puellae,
    auribus et puris scripta probasse mea.

Not so many Tuscan darts are armed with Achaemenian arrows
    as many as Love has fixed in my breast.
he forbade me to scorn such slender Muses,
    and ordered me thus to inhabit the Ascraean grove,
not that the Pierian oaks should follow my words,
    or that I might be able to lead beasts in the Ismarian valley,
but rather that Cynthia be astonished at my verse:
    then may I be more renowned by my art than Inachian Linus.
I am not only an admirer of seemly beauty,
    nor because some illustrious woman vaunts her ancestors:
let it delight me to have read in the lap of a learned girl,
    and to have had my writings approved by pure ears.

haec ubi contigerint, populi confusa valeto
fabula: nam domina iudice tutus ero.
quae si forte bonas ad pacem verterit auris,
possum inimicitias tunc ego ferre Iovis.

when these things shall have come to pass, confused tale of the people, farewell:
for, with my mistress as judge, I shall be safe.
who, if by chance she will have turned good ears toward peace,
then I can bear the enmities of Jove.

XIIIb

13b

QVANDOCVMQVE igitur nostros mors claudet ocellos,
    accipe quae serves funeris acta mei.
nec mea tunc longa spatietur imagine pompa
    nec tuba sit fati vana querela mei;
nec mihi tunc fulcro sternatur lectus eburno,
    nec sit in Attalico mors mea nixa toro.
desit odoriferis ordo mihi lancibus, adsint
    plebei parvae funeris exsequiae.

WHENEVER therefore death will close my little eyes,
    accept what you are to keep: the acts of my funeral.
nor then let a long procession parade with my image,
    nor let the trumpet be a vain lament of my fate;
nor then let a couch be spread for me with an ivory fulcrum,
    nor let my death be propped upon an Attalic couch.
let the array of odoriferous platters be lacking for me; let there be present
    the small plebeian obsequies of a funeral.

sat mea sat magna est, si tres sint pompa libelli,
    quos ego Persephonae maxima dona feram.
tu vero nudum pectus lacerata sequeris,
    nec fueris nomen lassa vocare meum,
osculaque in gelidis pones suprema labellis,
    cum dabitur Syrio munere plenus onyx.
deinde, ubi suppositus cinerem me fecerit ardor
    accipiat Manis parvula testa meos,
et sit in exiguo laurus super addita busto,
    quae tegat exstincti funeris umbra locum,
et duo sint versus: QVI NVNC IACET HORRIDA PVLVIS,
    VNIVS HIC QVONDAM SERVVS AMORIS ERAT.

enough for me, enough and great, if there be in the pomp three little books,
    which I shall bear as the greatest gifts to Persephone.
but you indeed, with garments torn, will follow with bare breast,
    nor be weary to call my name,
and you will place final kisses upon my icy little lips,
    when the onyx, full with Syrian gift, will be offered.
then, when the heat set beneath will have made me ash,
    let a tiny earthen jar receive my Manes,
and let a laurel be added above the small tomb,
    whose shade may cover the place of the extinguished funeral,
and let there be two verses: WHO NOW LIES AS DREADFUL DUST,
    HERE ONCE WAS THE SLAVE OF A SINGLE LOVE.

nec minus haec nostri notescet fama sepulcri,
    quam fuerant Pthii busta cruenta viri.
tu quoque si quando venies ad fata, memento,
    hoc iter ad lapides cana veni memores.
interea cave sis nos aspernata sepultos:
    non nihil ad verum conscia terra sapit.

nor will the fame of our sepulcher be less well-known,
    than had been the bloody funeral pyres of the Phthian man. you too, if ever you come to your fates, remember,
    by this path to the stones come, gray-haired, mindful. meanwhile, beware of spurning us, the buried:
    the conscious earth is not without some wisdom toward the true.

atque utinam primis animam me ponere cunis
    iussisset quaevis de Tribus una Soror!
nam quo tam dubiae servetur spiritus horae?
    Nestoris est visus post tria saecla cinis:
cui si longaevae minuisset fata senectae
    Gallicus Iliacis miles in aggeribus,
non ille Antilochi vidisset corpus humari,
    diceret aut 'O mors, cur mihi sera venis?'
tu tamen amisso non numquam flebis amico:
    fas est praeteritos semper amare viros.

and would that at my first cradles I had been ordered to lay down my life
    by any one of the Three Sisters!
for to what so doubtful an hour is breath being kept?
    Nestor’s ash was seen after three ages:
for whom, if a Gallic soldier on the Iliac ramparts had diminished the fates of long senectitude,
    he would not have seen the body of Antilochus being interred,
nor would he have said, 'O Death, why do you come late to me?'
    yet you, when a friend has been lost, will sometimes weep:
it is right always to love men who have gone by.

testis, qui niveum quondam percussit Adonem
    venantem Idalio vertice durus aper,
illis formosum iacuisse paludibus; illuc
    diceris effusa tu, Venus, isse coma.
sed frustra mutos revocabis, Cynthia, Manis:
    nam mea qui poterunt ossa minuta loqui?

witness the hard boar, who once struck the snow-white Adonis
    hunting on the Idalian summit, that he lay in those marshes; to that place
you, Venus, are said to have gone with your hair let loose.
    but in vain will you recall the mute Manes, Cynthia:
for who will be able to make my tiny bones speak?
    for who will be able to make my tiny bones speak?

XIV

NON ita Dardanio gavisus Atrida triumpho est,
    cum caderent magnae Laomedontis opes;
nec sic errore exacto laetatus Vlixes,
    cum tetigit carae litora Dulichiae;
nec sic Electra, salvum cum aspexit Oresten,
    cuius falsa tenens fleverat ossa soror;
nec sic incolumem Minois Thesea vidit,
    Daedalimn lino cum duce rexit iter;
quanta ego praeterita collegi gaudia nocte:
    immortalis ero, si altera talis erit.
at dum demissis supplex cervicibus ibam,
    dicebar sicco vilior esse lacu.
nec mihi iam fastus opponere quaerit iniquos,
    nec mihi ploranti lenta sedere potest.

NOT so did the Atreid rejoice in the Dardanian triumph,
    when the resources of great Laomedon were falling;
nor thus was Ulysses gladdened when his wandering was ended,
    when he touched the shores of dear Dulichia;
nor thus Electra, when she beheld Orestes safe,
    whose false bones his sister had held weeping;
nor thus did Minos’s daughter see Theseus unharmed,
    when with Daedalian line for guide she directed his path;
how great the joys I gathered in the night now past:
    I shall be immortal, if there will be another such.
but while I was going as a suppliant with bowed neck,
    I was said to be cheaper than a dry lake.
nor now does she seek to set against me unjust haughtiness,
    nor can she sit unyielding to me as I weep.

atque utinam non tam sero mihi nota fuisset
condicio! cineri nunc medicina datur.
alltc pedes caecis lucebat semita nobis:
scilicet insano nemo in amore videt.

and would that the condition had not been known to me so late—
now medicine is given to ashes.
even before our feet the path was shining for us blind:
surely no one sees in insane love.

hoc sensi prodesse magis: contemnite, amantes!
sic hodie veniet, si qua negavit heri.
pulsabant alii frustra dominamque vocabant:
mecum habuit positum lenta puella caput.

I have sensed this to profit more: contemn, lovers!
thus today she will come, if any denied yesterday.
others were knocking in vain and were calling the mistress:
with me the languid girl had her head laid down.

haec mihi devictis potior victoria Parthis,
    haec spolia, haec reges, haec mihi currus erunt.
magna ego dona tua figam, Cytherea, columna,
    taleque sub nostro nomine carmen erit:
HAS PONO ANTE TVAS TIBI, DIVA, PROPERTIVS AEDIS
    EXVVIAS, TOTA NOCTE RECEPTVS AMANS.
nunc a te, mea lux, veniet mea litore navis
    servato, an mediis sidat onusta vadis.

these for me are a victory preferable to the Parthians conquered,
    these will be my spoils, these my kings, these will be my chariots.
I shall fasten great gifts upon your column, Cytherea,
    and such a song under my name shall be:
I SET BEFORE YOUR SHRINES FOR YOU, GODDESS, THESE SPOILS—PROPERTIUS
    A LOVER WELCOMED THE WHOLE NIGHT.
now from you, my light, will my ship come to shore
    kept safe, or will it, laden, settle in the midst of the shallows.

quod si forte aliqua nobis mutabere culpa,
vestibulum iaceam mortuus ante tuum!

but if by chance you should be changed toward me by some fault,
let me lie dead before your vestibule!

O me felicem! o nox mihi candida! et o tu
lectule deliciis facte beate meis!

O fortunate me! O night radiant to me! and O you,
little bed, blissfully made by my delights!

quam multa apposita narramus verba lucerna,
    quantaque sublato lumine rixa fuit!
nam modo nudatis mecum est luctata papillis,
    interdum tunica duxit operta moram.
illa meos somno lapsos patefecit ocellos
    ore suo et dixit 'Sicine, lente, iaces?'
quam vario amplexu mutamus bracchia!

how many words we tell with the lamp set beside us,
    and how great a quarrel when the light was lifted!
for just now she wrestled with me, her nipples laid bare,
    at times, covered by her tunic, she drew out delay.
she laid open my little eyes, lapsed into sleep,
    with her mouth and said, 'Is it so, slow one, you lie?'
how with varied embrace we change our arms!

quantum
    oscula sunt labris nostra morata tuis!
non iuvat in caeco Venerem corrumpere motu:
    si nescis, oculi sunt in amore duces.
ipse Paris nuda fertur periisse Lacaena,
    cum Menelaeo surgeret e thalamo;
nudus et Endymion Phoebi cepisse sororem
    dicitur et nudae concubuisse deae.

how long
    our kisses have lingered on your lips!
it does not please to corrupt Venus in blind motion:
    if you do not know, the eyes are guides in love.
Paris himself is said to have perished by the naked Laconian woman,
    when she was rising from Menelaus’s bedchamber;
and naked Endymion is said to have taken the sister of Phoebus
    and to have lain with the naked goddess.

quod si pertendens animo vestita cubaris,
    scissa veste meas experiere manus:
quin etiam, si me ulterius provexerit ira,
    ostendes matri bracchia laesa tuae.
necdum inclinatae prohibent te ludere mammae:
    viderit haec, si quam iam peperisse pudet.
dum nos fata sinunt, oculos satiemus amore:
    nox tibi longa venit, nec reditura dies.

but if, persisting in your resolve, you lie down clothed,
    you will experience my hands, with your dress torn:
indeed even, if ire should carry me further,
    you will show your mother your injured arms.
and breasts not yet inclined do not forbid you to play:
    let her see this, if any woman now is ashamed to have borne.
while the Fates allow us, let us sate our eyes with love:
    a long night comes for you, and the day will not return.

atque utinam haerentis sic nos vincire catena
    velles, ut numquam solveret ulla dies!
exemplo iunctae tibi sint in amore columbae,
    masculus et totum femina coniugium.
errat, qui finem vesani quaerit amoris:
    verus amor nullum novit habere modum.

and would that you were willing to bind us thus with a clinging chain,
    such that no day would ever unloose it!
let the doves joined in love be an example to you,
    the male and the female a whole conjugal union.
he errs, who seeks an end to frenzied love:
    true love knows to have no measure.

terra prius falso partu deludet arantis,
    et citius nigros Sol agitabit equos,
fluminaque ad caput incipient revocare liquores,
    aridus et sicco gurgite piscis erit,
quam possim nostros alio transferre dolores:
    huius ero vivus, mortuus huius ero.
quod mihi secum talis concedere noctes
    illa velit, vitae longus et annus erit.
si dabit haec multas, fiam immortalis in illis:
    nocte una quivis vel deus esse potest.

the earth will sooner delude the plowmen with a false bearing,
    and sooner will the Sun drive black horses,
and rivers will begin to recall their waters to their head,
    and a fish will be dry in a dry whirlpool,
than I could transfer my sorrows to another:
    hers I shall be living, dead hers I shall be.
that she is willing to grant me such nights with her
    will be a long year of life.
if she gives many such, I shall become immortal in them:
    in a single night anyone can even be a god.

qualem si cuncti cuperent decurrere vitam
    et pressi multo membra iacere mero,
non ferrum crudele neque esset bellica navis,
    nec nostra Actiacum verteret ossa mare,
nec totiens propriis circum oppugnata triumphis
    lassa foret crinis solere Roma suos.
haec certe merito poterunt laudare minores:
    laeserunt nullos pocula nostra deos.
tu modo, dum lucet, fructum ne desere vitae!

such a life, if all should desire to run through it,
    and, pressed by much wine, let their limbs lie,
there would be no cruel iron nor warlike ship,
    nor would the Actian sea overturn our bones,
nor so often, oppugned on every side by her own triumphs,
    would Rome be weary of loosening her tresses.
these things surely the descendants will deservedly be able to praise:
    our cups have injured no gods.
only do you, while it shines, do not abandon the fruit of life!

    omnia si dederis oscula, pauca dabis.
ac veluti folia arentis liquere corollas,
    quae passim calathis strata natare vides,
sic nobis, qui nunc magnum spiramus amantes,
    forsitan includet crastina fata dies.

    even if you give all the kisses, you will give only a few.
and just as the leaves of a withering corolla have slipped away,
    which you see strewn to float everywhere in baskets,
so for us lovers, who now breathe great passion,
    perhaps the morrow’s day will shut in our fates.

XVI

PRAETOR ab Illyricis venit modo, Cynthia, terris,
maxima praeda tibi, maxima cura mihi.
non potuit saxo vitam posuisse Cerauno?
a, Neptune, tibi qualia dona darem!

The praetor has just come from the Illyrian lands, Cynthia,
the greatest booty for you, the greatest care for me.
Could he not have laid his life down on the Ceraunian rock?
Ah, Neptune, what gifts I would give to you!

nunc sine me plena fiunt convivia mensa,
    nunc sine me tota ianua nocte patet.
quare, si sapis, oblatas ne desere messis
    et stolidum pleno vellere carpe pecus;
deinde, ubi consumpto restabit munere pauper,
    dic alias iterum naviget Illyrias!
Cynthia non sequitur fascis nec curat honores,
    semper amatorum ponderat una sinus.

now, without me, convivial banquets are held with the table full,
    now, without me, the door stands open all night long.
therefore, if you are wise, do not desert the harvests offered,
    and shear the stolid flock with its full fleece;
then, when, the gift consumed, a pauper will be left,
    say that he should sail again to the Illyrias another time!
Cynthia does not follow the fasces nor care for honors,
    she always weighs in one bosom-fold the sums of her lovers.

at tu nunc nostro, Venus, o succurre dolori,
rumpat ut assiduis membra libidinibus!
ergo muneribus quivis mercatur amorem?
Iuppiter, indigna merce puella perit.

but you now, O Venus, do succor my pain,
that incessant libido may shatter his limbs!
so, with gifts, does any man purchase love?
Jupiter, the girl is undone for an unworthy price.

semper in Oceanum mittit me quaerere gemmas,
    et iubet ex ipsa tollere dona Tyro.
atque utinam Romae nemo esset dives, et ipse
    straminea posset dux habitare casa!
numquam Venales essent ad munus amicae,
    atque una fieret cana puella domo;
numquam septenas noctes seiuncta cubares,
    candida tam foedo bracchia fusa viro,
non quia peccarim (testor te), sed quia vulgo
    formosis levitas semper amica fuit.

always into the Ocean she sends me to seek gems,
    and bids me to take up gifts from Tyre itself.
and would that in Rome no one were rich, and that the leader himself
    could dwell in a straw-built hut!
never would Venal girlfriends be for a gift,
    and a girl would grow gray in one house;
never would you lie apart for seven nights,
    your fair arms spread around so foul a man,
not because I have sinned (I call you to witness), but because to the crowd
    levity has always been friendly to the beautiful.

barbarus exclusis agitat vestigia lumbis‹
et subito felix nunc mea regna tenet!
aspice quid donis Eriphyla invenit amaris,
arserit et quantis nupta Creusa malis.
nullane sedabit nostros iniuria fletus?

the barbarian, with me shut out, drives his thrusts with his loins—
and suddenly the lucky man now holds my realms!
look what by bitter gifts Eriphyle discovered,
and with how great evils the bride Creusa burned.
will no injustice assuage my tears?

    an dolor hic vitiis nescit abesse tuis?
tot iam abiere dies, cum me nec cura theatri
    nec tetigit Campi, nec mea mensa iuvat.
at pudeat certe, pudeat!‹nisi forte, quod aiunt,
    turpis amor surdis auribus esse solet.

    or does this pain not know how to be absent from your vices?
so many days have already gone, since neither the care of the theater
    nor has the Campus touched me, nor does my table please me.
but at least be ashamed, be ashamed!‹unless perhaps, as they say,
    base love is wont to have deaf ears.

cerne ducem, modo qui fremitu complevit inani
    Actia damnatis aequora militibus:
hunc infamis arnor versis dare terga carinis
    iussit et extremo quaerere in orbe fugam.
Caesaris haec virtus et gloria Caesaris haec est:
    illa, qua vicit, condidit arma manu.
sed quascumque tibi vestis, quoscumque smaragdos,
    quosve dedit flavo lumine chrysolithos,
haec videam rapidas in vanum ferre procellas:
    quae tibi terra, velim, quae tibi fiat aqua.

Behold the leader, who but now with empty roar filled the Actian waters with doomed soldiers:
    infamous Love ordered this man to turn his back with the keels reversed and to seek flight at the world’s end.
This is Caesar’s virtue, and this is Caesar’s glory:
    that hand, by which he conquered, sheathed the arms.
But whatever garments are yours, whatever emeralds,
    or chrysolites that gave a golden light,
may I see the swift storms bear these away in vain:
    what land for you, I would wish—what for you may become water.

non semper placidus periuros ridet amantis
    Iuppiter et surda neglegit aure preces.
vidistis toto sonitus percurrere caelo,
    fulminaque aetheria desiluisse domo:
non haec Pleiades faciunt neque aquosus Orion,
    nec sic de nihilo fulminis ira cadit;
periuras tunc ille solet punire puellas,
    deceptus quoniam flevit et ipse deus.
quare ne tibi sit tanti Sidonia vestis,
    ut timeas, quotiens nubilus Auster erit.

not always does placid laugh at perjured lovers
    Jupiter, and neglect prayers with a deaf ear.
you have seen rumblings run through the whole sky,
    and lightning-bolts leap down from the aetherial home:
not do the Pleiades cause these things, nor watery Orion,
    nor does the wrath of the thunderbolt thus fall from nothing;
then he is wont to punish perjured girls,
    since, deceived, the god himself has wept.
therefore let the Sidonian garment not be of such worth to you,
    that you fear whenever Auster is cloudy.

XVII

MENTIRI noctem, promissis ducere amantem,
    hoc erit infectas sanguine habere manus!
horum ego sum vates, quotiens desertus amaras
    explevi noctes, fractus utroque toro.
vel tu Tantalea moveare ad flumina sorte,
    ut liquor arenti fallat ab ore sitim;
vel tu Sisyphios licet admirere labores,
    difficile ut toto monte volutet onus;
durius in terris nihil est quod vivat amante,
    nec, modo si sapias, quod minus esse velis.

TO LIE about the night, to lead a lover on with promises,
    this will be to have hands stained with blood!
of these I am a prophet, as often as, abandoned,
    I have filled bitter nights, broken on either side of the bed.
or may you be moved to the Tantalean streams by your lot,
    so that the liquid deceives the thirst from your parched mouth;
or you may, if you please, admire the Sisyphian labors,
    how with difficulty he rolls his burden up the whole mountain;
nothing harsher lives on earth than a lover,
    nor, if you are wise, anything you would less wish to be.

quem modo felicem invidia admirante ferebant,
    nunc decimo admittor vix ego quoque die.
nunc iacere e duro corpus iuvat, impia, saxo,
    sumere et in nostras trita venena manus;
nec licet in triviis sicca requiescere luna,
    aut per rimosas mittere verba fores.
quod quamvis ita sit, dominam mutare cavebo:
    tum flebit, cum in me senserit esse fidem.

whom just now they were proclaiming happy, with envy admiring,
    now scarcely even I am admitted on the tenth day.
now it pleases me to lie my body on hard stone, impious one,
    and to take well-ground poisons into my hands;
nor is it permitted for the dry moon to rest at the cross-roads,
    or to send words through cracked doors.
although this is so, I will be careful not to change my mistress:
    then she will weep, when she perceives that there is fidelity in me.

XVIIIa

18a

ASSIDVAE multis odium peperere querelae:
frangitur in tacito femina saepe viro.
si quid vidisti, semper vidisse negato!
aut si quid doluit forte, dolere nega!

Assiduous complaints have begotten hatred for many:
a woman is often subdued by a silent man.
If you have seen anything, always deny having seen!
or if something by chance has pained, deny that it pains!

XVIIIb

18b

quid mea si canis aetas candesceret annis,
    et faceret scissas languida ruga genas?
at non Tithoni spernens Aurora senectam
    desertum Eoa passa iacere domo est:
illum saepe suis decedens fovit in ulnis
    quam prius adiunctos sedula lavit equos;
illum ad vicinos cum amplexa quiesceret Indos,
    maturos iterum est questa redire dies;
illa deos currum conscendens dixit iniquos,
    invitum et terris praestitit officium.
cui maiora senis Tithoni gaudia vivi,
    quam gravis amisso Memnone luctus erat.

What if my hoary age grew white with years,
    and a languid wrinkle made my cheeks furrowed?
yet Dawn, not spurning Tithonus’s senescence,
    did not allow him, abandoned, to lie in her Eoan home:
often, as she departed, she cherished him in her arms
    before, industrious, she washed her yoked horses;
when, clasping him, she took her rest by the neighboring Indians,
    she complained that the mature days were returning again;
mounting her chariot she called the gods unjust,
    and rendered her service to the lands unwillingly.
for whom the joys of old Tithonus, alive,
    were greater than the grievous mourning for Memnon lost.

cum sene non puduit talem dormire puellam
    et canae totiens oscula ferre comae.
at tu etiam iuvenem odisti me, perfida, cum sis
    ipsa anus haud longa curva futura die.
quin ego deminuo curam, quod saepe Cupido
    huic malus esse solet, cui bonus ante fuit.

it did not shame such a girl to sleep with an old man
    and so often to bring kisses to his hoary hair.
but you even hate me, a youth, perfidious one, though you are
    yourself an old woman, soon to be bent on no long day.
indeed I diminish my care, since often Cupid
    is wont to be bad to her to whom he was good before.

XVIIIc

18c

NUNC etiam infectos demens imitare Britannos,
    ludis et externo tincta nitore caput?
ut natura dedit, sic omnis recta figura est:
    turpis Romano Belgicus ore color.
illi sub terris fiant mala multa puellae,
    quae mentita suas vertit inepta comas!

Now do you, demented, even imitate the stained Britons,
    and sport a head dyed with foreign sheen?
as nature gave, thus every figure is right:
    Belgic color is disgraceful on a Roman face.
may many evils befall that girl beneath the earth,
    who, having lied about her own locks, ineptly changes them!

deme: mihi certe poteris formosa videri,
    mi formosa sat es, si modo saepe venis.
an si caeruleo quaedam sua tempora fuco
    tinxerit, idcirco caerula forma bona est?
cum tibi nec frater nec sit tibi filius ullus,
    frater ego et tibi sim filius unus ego.

Remove it: to me you surely will be able to seem beautiful,
    my dear, you are beautiful enough, if only you come often.
Or if some woman has dyed her temples with cerulean dye,
    for that reason is a cerulean form good?
since you have neither brother nor any son,
    let me be a brother, and let me be for you your single son.

ipse tuus semper tibi sit custodia lectus,
nec nimis ornata fronte sedere velis.
credam ego narranti, noli committere, famae:
et terram mmor transilit et maria.

let your very own bed always be your safeguard for you,
nor wish to sit with an over-ornate brow.
I will believe the one who tells it; do not commit yourself to fame:
for rumor leaps over both the land and the seas.

XIX

ETSI me invito discedis, Cynthia, Roma,
    laetor quod sine me devia rura coles.
nullus erit castis iuvenis corruptor in agris,
    qui te blanditiis non sinat esse probam;
nulla neque ante tuas orietur rixa fenestras,
    nec tibi clamatae somnus amarus erit.
sola eris et solos spectabis, Cynthia, montis
    et pecus et finis pauperis agricolae.

Although, with me unwilling, you depart, Cynthia, from Rome,
    I am glad that without me you will cultivate remote fields.
there will be no youth a corrupter in the chaste countryside,
    to prevent you, with blandishments, from being proper;
nor will any brawl arise before your windows,
    nor will sleep, with shouts cried to you, be bitter.
you will be alone and will gaze at solitary, Cynthia, mountains
    and the flock and the bounds of a poor farmer.

illic te nulli poterunt corrumpere ludi,
    fanaque peccatis plurima causa tuis.
illic assidue tauros spectabis arantis,
    et vitem docta ponere falce comas;
atque ibi rara feres inculto tura sacello,
    haedus ubi agrestis corruet ante focos;
protinus et nuda choreas imitabere sura;
    omnia ab externo sint modo tuta viro.
ipse ego venabor: iam nunc me sacra Dianae
    suscipere et Veneris ponere vota iuvat.

there no games will be able to corrupt you,
    and the shrines, a very abundant cause for your sins.
there you will assiduously watch bulls ploughing,
    and, skilled, to lay down with the sickle the vine’s tresses;
and there you will bear rare incense to the rough little shrine,
    where a rustic kid will fall before the hearths;
straightway too with bare calf you will imitate the choruses;
    only let all things be safe from an external man.
I myself will hunt: even now it pleases me to take up the sacred rites of Diana
    and to lay down the vows of Venus.

incipiam captare feras et reddere pinu
    cornua et audaces ipse monere canis;
non tamen ut vastos ausim temptare leones
    aut celer agrestis comminus ire sues.
haec igitur mihi sit lepores audacia mollis
    excipere et structo figere avem calamo,
qua formosa suo Clitumnus flumina luco
    integit, et niveos abluit unda boves.
tu quotiens aliquid conabere, vita, memento
    venturum paucis me tibi Luciferis.

I shall begin to catch wild beasts and to give back to the pine
    the horns, and myself to admonish the bold dogs;
not, however, that I would dare to attempt vast lions
    or to go hand-to-hand against the swift rustic boars.
let this, then, be for me a gentle audacity:
    to take hares and to fix a bird with a set reed,
where beautiful Clitumnus with its own grove
    covers its streams, and the wave bathes snowy-white oxen.
you, whenever you attempt anything, my life, remember
    that I will come to you after a few mornings.

hic me nec solae poterunt avertere silvae,
nec vaga muscosis flumina fusa iugis,
quin ego in assidua mutem tua nomina lingua:
absenti nemo non nocuisse velit.

here neither solitary woods will be able to turn me aside,
nor wandering rivers poured from mossy ridges,
but that I with an assiduous tongue keep turning your name:
there is no one who does not wish to have harmed the absent.

QVID fles abducta gravius Briseide? quid fles
anxia captiva tristius Andromacha?
quidve mea de fraude deos, insana, fatigas?

Why do you weep more grievously than abducted Briseis? Why do you weep
more sadly, anxious captive Andromache?
Or, insane one, why do you fatigue the gods about my fraud?

    quid quereris nostram sic cecidisse fidem?
non tam nocturna volucris funesta querela
    Attica Cecropiis obstrepit in foliis,
nec tantum Niobe, bis sex ad busta superba,
    sollicito lacrimans defluit a Sipylo.
me licet aeratis astringant bracchia nodis,
    sint tua vel Danaes condita membra domo,
in te ego et aeratas rumpam, mea vita, catenas,
    ferratam Danaes transiliamque domum.

    why do you complain that our fidelity has thus fallen?
not so much does the nocturnal bird’s funereal complaint
    Attic, make a din in the Cecropian leaves,
nor so much does Niobe, with twice six at the proud burial-mounds,
    weeping, flow down from careworn Sipylus.
though bronze knots may bind my arms,
    let your limbs be hidden even in Danae’s house,
for you, my life, I too will break bronze chains,
    and I will leap over Danae’s iron-bound house.

de te quodcumque, ad surdas mihi dicitur auris:
    tu modo ne dubita de gravitate mea.
ossa tibi iuro per matris et ossa parentis
    (si fallo, cinis heu sit mihi uterque gravis!)
me tibi ad extremas mansurum, vita, tenebras:
    ambos una fides auferet, una dies.
quod si nec nomen nec me tua forma teneret,
    posset servitium mite tenere tuum.

whatever about you is said to me is said to deaf ears:
    only do not doubt my gravity.
I swear to you by my mother's bones and by my parent's bones
    (if I am false, alas, let each of their ashes be heavy upon me!)
that I will abide with you, my life, to the farthest shadows:
    one and the same faith will carry off us both, one and the same day.
but if neither your name nor your form were holding me,
    your gentle servitude could hold me.

septima iam plenae deducitur orbita lunae,
    cum de me et de te compita nulla tacent:
interea nobis non numquam ianua mollis,
    non numquam lecti copia facta tui.
nec mihi muneribus nox ulla est empta beatis:
    quidquid eram, hoc animi gratia magna tui.
cum te tam multi peterent, tu me una petisti:
    possum ego naturae non meminisse tuae?

now the seventh orbit of the full moon is being drawn down,
    when no crossroads are silent about me and about you:
meanwhile for us sometimes a pliant door,
    sometimes an access to your bed has been afforded.
nor has any night been bought by me with blessed gifts:
    whatever I was, this was thanks to the great favor of your spirit.
when so many were seeking you, you alone sought me:
    can I fail to remember your nature?

tum me vel tragicae vexetis Erinyes, et me
    inferno damnes, Aeace, iudicio,
atque inter Tityi volucris mea poena vagetur,
    tumque ego Sisyphio saxa labore geram!
nec tu supplicibus me sis venerata tabellis:
    ultima talis erit quae mea prima fides.
hoc mihi perpetuo ius est, quod solus amator
    nec cito desisto nec temere incipio.

then may you, even you, tragic Erinyes, vex me, and may you, Aeacus, condemn me by infernal judgment,
    and let my punishment wander among the birds of Tityus,
and then let me bear stones with Sisyphian labor!
    nor may you have courted me with suppliant tablets:
such will be last as was my first faith.
    this is my perpetual right: that, alone as a lover,
neither do I desist quickly nor do I begin rashly.

XXI

A QVANTVM de me Panthi tibi pagina finxit,
tantum illi Pantho ne sit amica Venus!
sed tibi iam videor Dodona verior augur.
uxorem ille tuus pulcher amator habet!

AS MUCH as the page of Panthus has forged about me for you,
so much may Venus not be friendly to that Panthus!
but to you I now seem a truer augur than Dodona.
that handsome lover of yours has a wife!

tot noctes periere: nihil pudet? aspice, cantat
liber: tu nimium credula, sola iaces.
et nunc inter eos tu sermo es, te ille superbus
dicit se invito saepe fuisse domi.

so many nights have perished: are you ashamed of nothing? look, the book sings;
you, too credulous, lie alone.
and now among them you are the talk; that proud man
says that, he himself unwilling, he has often been at your place.

dispeream, si quicquam aliud quam gloria de te
    quaeritur: has laudes ille maritus habet.
Colchida sic hospes quondam decepit Iason:
    eiecta est (tenuit namque Creusa) domo.
sic a Dulichio iuvene est elusa Calypso:
    vidit amatorem pandere vela suum.

May I perish, if anything other than glory about you
    is sought: that husband has these lauds. Once thus the guest Jason deceived the Colchian:
    she was cast out of the house (for Creusa held it). Thus by the Dulichian youth was Calypso outplayed:
    she saw her lover spread his sails.

a nimium faciles aurem praebere puellae,
    discite desertae non temere esse bonae!
huic quoque, qui restat, iam pridem quaeritur alter
    experta in primo, stulta, cavere potes.
nos quocumque loco, nos omni tempore tecum
    sive aegra pariter sive valellte sumus.

ah, girls too facile to lend an ear,
    learn, you deserted ones, not rashly to be good!
for this one too, who remains, another has long since been sought;
    taught by what you experienced in the first, foolish girl, you can beware.
we in whatever place, we at every time with you
    are, whether ailing alike or whether well.

XXIIa

22a

Scis here mi multas pariter placuisse puellas;
    scis mihi, Demophoon, multa venire mala.
nulla meis frustra lustrantur compita plantis;
    o nimis exitio nata theatra meo,
sive aliquis molli diducit candida gestu
    bracchia, seu varios incinit ore modos!
interea nostri quaerunt sibi vulnus ocelli,
    candida non tecto pectore si qua sedet,
sive vagi crines puris in frontibus errant,
    Indica quos medio vertice gemma tenet.

You know, Hera, that many girls have pleased me equally;
    you know, Demophoon, that many evils come upon me.
no crossroads are traversed by my feet in vain;
    O theaters born too much for my destruction,
whether someone parts her white arms with a soft gesture
    or chants various modes with her mouth!
meanwhile my little eyes seek a wound for themselves,
    if any sits with her white breast not covered,
or if wandering tresses stray on pure brows,
    which an Indian gem holds on the mid-crown of the head.

quae si forte aliquid vultu mihi dura negarat,
frigida de tota fronte cadebat aqua.
quaeris, Demophoon, cur sim tam mollis in omnis?
quod quaeris, 'quare' non habet ullus amor.

if she by chance had denied me something with a harsh visage,
frigid water fell from my whole brow.
you ask, Demophoon, why I am so soft toward everyone?
what you ask, the ‘why,’ no love at all possesses.

cur aliquis sacris laniat sua bracchia cultris
    et Phrygis insanos caeditur ad numeros?
uni cuique dedit vitium natura creato:
    mi fortuna aliquid semper amare dedit.
me licet et Thamyrae cantoris fata sequantur,
    numquam ad formosas, invide, caecus ero.

why does someone lacerate his own arms with sacred knives
    and get beaten to the insane measures of Phrygian rhythms?
to each single created person Nature has given a vice:
    to me Fortune has given always to love something.
though even the fates of the singer Thamyras should befall me,
    never, envious one, shall I be blind to the beautiful.

sed tibi si exilis videor tenuatus in artus,
    falleris: haud umquam est culta labore Venus.
percontere licet: saepe est experta puella
    officium tota nocte valere meum.
Iuppiter Alcmenae geminas requieverat Arctos,
    et caelum noctu bis sine rege fuit;
nec tamen idcirco languens ad fulmina venit:
    nullus amor vires eripit ipse suas.

but if to you I seem meager, thinned down in my limbs,
    you are mistaken: Venus has never been cultivated by toil.
you may inquire: the girl has often experienced
    that my service holds out for the whole night.
Jupiter, for Alcmene, made the twin Bears rest,
    and the sky by night was twice without its king;
nor yet on that account did he come languishing to his thunderbolts:
    no love robs its own powers.

quid? cum e complexu Briseidos iret Achilles,
num fugere minus Thessala tela Phryges?
quid?

What? when Achilles went from the embrace of Briseis,
did the Phrygians flee the Thessalian spears any less?
what?

ferus Andromachae lecto cum surgeret Hector?
bella Mycenaeae non timuere rates?
ille vel hic classis poterant vel perdere muros:
hic ego Pelides, hic ferus Hector ego.

when fierce Hector rose from Andromache’s bed?
did the Mycenaean ships not fear wars?
that one or this could destroy fleets or else lay walls low:
here I am a Pelides, here I am fierce Hector.

aspice uti caelo modo sol modo luna ministret:
    sic etiam nobis una puella parum est.
altera me cupidis teneat foveatque lacertis,
    altera si quando non sinit esse locum;
aut si forte irata meo sit facta ministro,
    ut sciat esse aliam, quae velit esse mea!
nam melius duo defendunt retinacula navim,
    tutius et geminos anxia mater alit.

Look how in the sky now the sun, now the moon ministers:
    so too for us one girl is too little.
let one hold and cherish me with desirous arms,
    another, whenever she does not allow there to be room;
or if by chance she has been made angry at my minister,
    so that she may know there is another who wishes to be mine!
for two mooring-ropes defend a ship better,
    and more safely an anxious mother rears twins.

XXIIb

22b

AVT si es dura, nega: sin es non dura, venito!
quid iuvat haec nullo ponere verba loco?
hic unus dolor est ex omnibus acer amanti,
speranti subito si qua venire negat.

Or, if you are obdurate, refuse; but if you are not obdurate, come!
what does it profit to set these words down in no place?
here is the one grief, out of all, keen to a lover,
if, to one hoping, she suddenly denies that she will come.

quanta illum toto versant suspiria lecto,
cum recipi, quae non venerit, ipsa vetat?
et rursus puerum quaerendo audita fatigat,
quem, quae scire timet, quaerere fata iubet.

how many sighs toss him over the whole bed,
when she herself, who has not come, forbids being received?
and again, by seeking the boy, he wearies out the hearsay,
whom the fates—which she fears to know—bid him to seek.

XXIII

CVI fugienda fuit indocti semita vulgi,
    ipsa petita lacu nunc mihi dulcis aqua est.
ingenuus quisquam alterius dat munera servo,
    ut promissa suae verba ferat dominae?
et quaerit totiens 'Quaenam nunc porticus illam
    integit?' et 'Campo quomovet illa pedes?'
deinde, ubi pertuleris, quos dicit fama labores
    Herculis, ut scribat 'Muneris ecquid habes?'
cernere uti possis vultum custodis amari,
    captus et immunda saepe latere casa?

For whom the path of the unlearned vulgar crowd ought to have been shunned,
    now the very water fetched from the lake is sweet to me.
Does any freeborn man give gifts to another’s slave,
    that he may carry his promised words to his mistress?
and he asks so often, 'Which portico now covers her?'
    and 'Where on the Campus does she move her feet?'
then, when you have borne through labors which fame says are Hercules’,
    so that she may write, 'Have you anything of the gift?'
so that you may be able to behold the face of the bitter custodian,
    and, caught, to lie often hidden in a filthy hovel?

quam care semel in toto nox vertitur anno!
a pereant, si quos ianua clausa iuvat!
contra, reiecto quae libera vadit amictu,
custodum et nullo saepta timore, placet?

how dearly a single night is turned in the whole year!
ah, let them perish, if a closed door pleases anyone!
by contrast, she who goes free with her mantle thrown back,
and hedged about by no fear of custodians, is pleasing?

cui saepe immundo Sacra conteritur Via socco,
    nec sinit esse moram, si quis adire velit;
differet haec numquam, nec poscet garrula, quod
    astrictus ploret saepe dedisse pater,
nec dicet ' Timeo, propera iam surgere, quaeso:
    infelix, hodie vir mihi rure venit.'
et quas Euphrates et quas mihi misit Orontes,
    me iuerint: nolim furta pudica tori;
libertas quoniam nulli iam restat amanti:
    nullus liber erit, si quis amare volet.

for whom the Sacred Way is often ground down by an unclean slipper,
    and she does not allow there to be delay, if anyone should wish to approach;
this one will never defer, nor will the garrulous one demand that which
    a straitened father often laments to have given,
nor will she say, 'I fear; please hurry now to rise:
    unhappy me, today my husband comes to me from the countryside.'
and let those whom the Euphrates and those whom the Orontes sent to me
    assist me: I would not wish the thefts of a chaste bed;
since liberty now remains for no lover:
    no one will be free, if anyone shall wish to love.

XXIVa

24a

'TV loqueris, cum sis iam noto fabula libro
    et tua sit toto Cynthia lecta foro?'
cui non his verbis aspergat tempora sudor?
    aut pudor ingenuus, aut reticendus amor
quod si tam facilis spiraret Cynthia nobis,
    non ego nequitiae dicerer esse caput,
nec sic per totam infamis traducerer urbem,
    urerer et quamvis, nomine verba darem.
quare ne tibi sit mirum me quaerere vilis:
    parcius infamant: num tibi causa levis?

'You speak, when you are already a tale in a well-known book,
    and your Cynthia has been read in the whole Forum?'
Whose temples would not be sprinkled with sweat at these words?
    either innate modesty, or a love that should be kept silent—
but if Cynthia breathed so easy toward us,
    I would not be said to be the head of profligacy,
nor thus would I be dragged in infamy through the whole city,
    I would burn, and yet, under a name, I would give words.
wherefore let it not be a wonder to you that I look for the cheap:
    they defame more sparingly: is the cause slight to you?

*******
et modo pavonis caudae flabella superbae
    et manibus dura frigus habere pila,
et cupit iratum talos me poscere eburnos,
    quaeque nitent Sacra vilia dona Via.
a peream, si me ista movent dispendia, sed me
    fallaci dominae iam pudet esse iocum!

*******
and now the proud fans of a peacock’s tail,
    and to hold in her hands a hard ball that holds cold,
and she longs to demand of me, in anger, ivory knucklebones,
    and the cheap gifts that shine on the Sacred Way.
ah, may I perish if those expenses move me; but it
    now shames me to be the joke of a fallacious mistress!

XXIVb

24b

HOC erat in primis quod me gaudere iubebas?
tam te formosam non pudet esse levem?
una aut altera nox nondum est in amore peracta,
et dicor lecto iam gravis esse tuo.

Was this, in the first place, what you were bidding me to rejoice at?
Does it not shame you, so beautiful, to be so inconstant?
Not yet has one or the other night been completed in love,
and I am already said to be burdensome to your bed.

me modo laudabas et carmina nostra legebas:
    ille tuus pennas tam cito vertit amor?
contendat mecum ingenio, contendat et arte,
    in primis una discat amare domo:
si libitum tibi erit, Lernaeas pugnet ad hydras
    et tibi ab Hesperio mala dracone ferat,
taetra venena libens et naufragus ebibat undas,
    et numquam pro te deneget esse miser:
(quos utinam in nobis, vita, experiare labores!)
    iam tibi de timidis iste protervus erit,
qui nunc se in tumidum iactando venit honorem:
    discidium vobis proximus annus erit.
at me non aetas mutabit tota Sibyllae,
    non labor Alcidae, non niger ille dies.

you were just now praising me and reading our songs:
    has that love of yours so quickly turned its wings?
let him contend with me in talent, let him contend also in art,
    first of all let him learn to love in a single house:
if it be your pleasure, let him fight the Lernaean hydras
    and bring you apples from the Hesperian dragon,
let him gladly drink down foul poisons and, shipwrecked, the waves,
    and never deny being wretched for you:
(would that, my life, you would test such labors upon us!)
    soon for you that insolent one will be of the timid,
who now by vaunting has come into a tumid honor:
    the next year will be a sundering for you two.
but me not the whole age of the Sibyl will change,
    nor the labor of Alcides, nor that black day.

tu mea compones et dices 'Ossa, Properti,
    haec tua sunt? eheu tu mihi certus eras,
certus eras eheu, quamvis nec sanguine avito
    nobilis et quamvis non ita dives eras.'
nil ego non patiar, numquam me iniuria mutat:
    ferre ego formosam nullum onus esse puto.
credo ego non paucos ista periisse figura,
    credo ego sed multos non habuisse fidem.

you will lay out my bones and say, 'Bones, Propertius,
    are these yours? alas, you were steadfast to me,
steadfast you were, alas, although neither by ancestral blood
    noble, and although you were not so rich.'
there is nothing I will not endure; injustice never changes me:
    I deem that to bear a beautiful woman is no burden at all.
I believe not a few have perished by that figure,
    I believe, but that many have not had faith.

parvo dilexit spatio Minoida Theseus,
    Phyllida Demophoon, hospes uterque malus.
iam tibi Iasonia nota est Medea carina
    et modo servato sola relicta viro.
dura est quae multis simulatum fingit amorem,
    et se plus uni si qua parare potest.

Theseus loved the Minoan girl for a short span,
    Demophon [loved] Phyllis—each a bad guest.
Already to you is known Medea of the Jasonian keel,
    and, her man just saved, she was left alone.
Hard is she who fashions feigned love for many,
    and who can prepare herself for more than one.

noli nobilibus, noli conferre beatis:
vix venit, extremo qui legat ossa die.
hi tibi nos erimus: sed tu potius precor ut me
demissis plangas pectora nuda comis.

do not compare with nobles, do not compare with the wealthy:
scarcely does there come, on the last day, one who will gather the bones.
these we shall be for you: but you rather, I pray, with hair let down,
beat your bare breasts for me.

XXV

VNICA nata meo pulcherrima cura dolori,
    excludit quoniam sors mea 'saepe veni,'
ista meis fiet notissima forma libellis,
    Calve, tua venia, pace, Catulle, tua.
miles depositis annosus secubat armis,
    grandaevique negant ducere aratra boves,
putris et in vacua requiescit navis harena,
    et vetus in templo bellica parma vacat:
at me ab amore tuo deducet nulla senectus,
    sive ego Tithonus sive ego Nestor ero.
nonne fuit satius duro servire tyranno
    et gemere in tauro, saeve Perille, tuo?

Only-born daughter, most beautiful care to my sorrow,
    since my fate shuts out “come often,”
that form will become most well-known in my little books,
    Calvus, with your leave, and, Catullus, with your peace.
an aged soldier lies idle with arms laid aside,
    and very-aged oxen refuse to draw the ploughs,
a rotting ship rests in empty sand,
    and an old warlike shield stands idle in the temple:
but no old age will draw me away from your love,
    whether I be Tithonus or I be Nestor.
was it not better to serve a harsh tyrant
    and to groan in your bull, savage Perillus?

Gorgonis et satius fuit obdurescere vultu,
    Caucasias etiam si pateremur avis.
sed tamen obsistam. teritur robigine mucro
    ferreus et parvo saepe liquore silex:
at nullo dominae teritur sub crimine amor, qui
    restat et immerita sustinet aure minas.

And it was better to grow hard at the Gorgon’s visage,
    even if we were to endure the Caucasian birds.
but yet I will resist. The iron blade is worn away by rust,
    and flint is often by a little liquid:
but by no charge of my lady is love worn away, which
    remains and endures threats with an undeserving ear.

ultro contemptus rogat, et peccasse fatetur
laesus, et invitis ipse redit pedibus.
tu quoque, qui pleno fastus assumis amore,
credule, nulla diu femina pondus habet.
an quisquam in mediis persolvit vota procellis.

of his own accord, scorned, he begs, and wounded confesses he has sinned,
and he himself returns with unwilling feet.
you too, who assume haughtiness with love at full,
credulous one, no woman has weight for long.
or does anyone pay his vows in the midst of storms.

    cum saepe in portu fracta carina natet?
aut prius infecto deposcit praemia cursu,
    septima quam metam triverit arte rota?
mendaces ludunt flatus in amore secundi:
    si qua venit sero, magna ruina venit.

    when often in harbor a broken keel floats?
or does someone demand the prizes before an unfinished course,
    before the wheel by skill has worn down the seventh turning-post?
mendacious favorable winds play games in love:
    if any comes late, a great ruin comes.

tu tamen interea, quamvis te diligat illa,
    in tacito cohibe gaudia clausa sinu.
namque in armore suo semper sua maxima cuique
    nescio quo pacto verba nocere solent.
quamvis te persaepe vocet, semel ire memento:
    invidiam quod habet, non solet esse diu.

You, however, meanwhile, although she loves you,
    keep your joys shut within a silent bosom.
For in one’s own love, each person’s greatest things
    are accustomed, I know not how, to be harmed by words.
Although she calls you very often, remember to go once:
    what draws envy is not wont to last long.

at si saecla forent antiquis grata puellis,
    essem ego quod nunc tu: tempore vincor ego.
non tamen ista meos mutabunt saecula mores:
    unus quisque sua noverit ire via.
at, vos qui officia in multos revocatis amores,
    quantus sic cruciat lumina vestra dolor!

but if the ages were pleasing to the ancient girls,
    I would be what you are now: I am conquered by time.
yet these ages will not change my mores:
    let each person know to go by his own way.
but you, who recall your attentions into many loves,
    how great a pain thus torments your eyes!

vidistis pleno teneram candore puellam,
     vidistis fuscam, ducit uterque color;
vidistis quandam Argiva prodire figura,
    vidistis nostras, utraque forma rapit;
illaque plebeio vel sit sandycis amictu:
    haec atque illa mali vulneris una via est.
cum satis una tuis insomnia portet ocellis,
    una sat est cuivis femina multa mala.

you have seen a tender girl with full candor,
    you have seen a dusky one; each color draws;
you have seen some girl come forth with an Argive figure,
    you have seen our own; either form ravishes;
and whether that one be with a plebeian wrap or with a sandyx mantle:
    this and that are one road to the evil wound.
when one alone brings enough insomnia to your little eyes,
    one woman is enough—many evils—for anyone.

XXVIa

26a

VIDI te in somnis fracta, mea vita, carina
    Ionio lassas ducere rore manus,
et quaecumque in me fueras mentita fateri,
    nec iam umore gravis tollere posse comas,
qualem purpureis agitatam fluctibus Hellen,
    aurea quam molli tergore vexit ovis.
quam timui, ne forte tuum mare nomen haberet,
    atque tua labens navita fleret aqua!
quae tum ego Neptuno, quae tum cum Castore fratri,
    quaeque tibi excepi, iam dea, Leucothoe!

I SAW you in dreams, my life, with the ship broken,
    dragging your weary hands in Ionian spray,
and confessing whatever you had lied against me,
    and, heavy now with moisture, unable to lift your hair,
like Helle tossed by the purple waves,
    whom the golden sheep bore on its soft back.
how I feared, lest by chance your sea might bear your name,
    and that, as he sank, the sailor would bewail your waters!
what vows then I took up to Neptune, what then to Castor and his brother,
    and what I undertook for you too, now a goddess, Leucothea!

at tu vix primas extollens gurgite palmas
    saepe meum nomen iam peritura vocas.
quod si forte tuos vidisset Glaucus ocellos,
    esses Ionii facta puella maris,
et tibi ob invidiam Nereides increpitarent,
    candida Nesaee, caerula Cymothoe.
sed tibi subsidio delphinum currere vidi,
    qui, puto, Arioniam vexerat ante lyram.

but you, scarcely lifting your palms from the surge,
    often, now about to perish, you call my name.
but if by chance Glaucus had seen your dear little eyes,
    you would have been made a maiden of the Ionian sea,
and the Nereids would chide you out of jealousy,
    fair Nesaee, cerulean Cymothoe.
but I saw a dolphin run to your aid,
    who, I think, had once borne the Arionian lyre.

iamque ego conabar summo me mittere saxo,
cum mihi discussit talia visa metus.

And now I was trying to hurl myself from the highest rock,
when fear shattered such visions for me.

XXVIb

26b

NUNC admirentur quod tam mihi pulchra puella
    serviat et tota dicar in urbe potens!
non, si Cambysae redeant et flumina Croesi,
    dicat ' De nostro surge, poeta, toro.'
nam mea cum recitat, dicit se odisse beatos:
    carmina tam sancte nulla puella colit.
multum in amore fides, multum constantia prodest:
    qui dare multa potest, multa et amare potest
     *******
seu mare per longum mea cogitet ire puella,
    hanc sequar et fidos una aget aura duos.

NOW let them marvel that so beautiful a girl serves me,
    and that I am called powerful in the whole city!
not, even if the riches of Cambyses and the rivers of Croesus should return,
    would she say, ' Get up from our bed, poet.'
for when mine recites, she says she hates the blessed (the wealthy):
    no girl reveres songs so devoutly.
much in love loyalty helps, much steadfastness profits:
    he who can give much can love much as well.
     *******
or if my girl should plan to go through the long sea,
    I will follow her, and one breeze will drive two faithful ones.

unum litus erit sopitis unaque tecto
    arbor, et ex una saepe bibemus aqua;
et tabula una duos poterit componere amantis,
    prora cubile mihi seu mihi puppis erit.
omnia perpetiar: saevus licet urgeat Eurus ;
    velaque in incertum frigidus Auster agat;
quicumque et venti miserum vexastis Vlixem
    et Danaum Euboico litore mille ratis;
et qui movistis duo litora, cum ratis Argo
    dux erat ignoto missa columba mari.
illa meis tantum non umquam desit ocellis,
    incendat navem Iuppiter ipse licet.

one shore shall be for us asleep, and one tree for a roof,
    and from one and the same water we shall often drink;
and one plank will be able to bring together two lovers,
    the prow shall be my couch, or for me the stern shall be my couch.
I will endure all things: though savage Eurus press hard;
    and chilly Auster drive the sails into the uncertain;
you winds, whoever you are, who harassed wretched Ulysses,
    and the thousand ships of the Danaans on the Euboean shore;
and you who set two shores in motion, when the ship Argo
    had as its leader a dove sent upon the unknown sea.
only let that girl never be absent from my little eyes,
    though Jupiter himself set the ship on fire.

certe isdem nudi pariter iactabimur oris.
    me licet unda ferat, te modo terra tegat.
sed non Neptunus tanto crudelis amori,
    Neptunus fratri par in amore Iovi:
testis Amymone, latices dum ferret, in arvis
    compressa, et Lernae pulsa tridente palus.

surely on the same shores, naked, we shall be tossed together.
    though the wave may bear me, only let the earth cover you.
but Neptune is not so cruel to so great a love,
    Neptune, equal in love to his brother Jove:
witness Amymone, while she was carrying waters in the fields,
    pressed, and the marsh of Lerna smitten by the trident.

iam deus amplexu votum persolvit, at illi
    aurea divinas urna profudit aquas.
crudelem et Borean rapta Orithyia negavit:
    hic deus et terras et maria alta domat
crede mihi, nobis mitescet Scylla, nec umquam
    alternante vacans vasta Charybdis aqua;
ipsaque sidera erunt nullis obscura tenebris,
    purus et Orion, purus et Haedus erit.
quod mihi si ponenda tuo sit corpore vita,
    exitus hic nobis non inhonestus erit.

now the god with an embrace paid his vow, and for her
    a golden urn poured forth divine waters.
and Orithyia, once snatched away, denied Boreas cruel:
    this god subdues both lands and the deep seas.
believe me, for us Scylla will grow mild, nor ever
    will vast Charybdis be vacant of alternating water;
and the stars themselves will be obscured by no darkness,
    and Orion will be clear, and the Kid will be clear.
and if for me my life must be laid down for your body,
    this exit for us will not be dishonorable.

XXVII

AT VOS incertam, mortales, funeris horam
    quaeritis, et qua sit mors aditura via;
quaeritis et caelo Phoenicum inventa sereno,
    quae sit stella homini commoda quaeque mala!
seu pedibus Parthos sequimur seu classe Britannos,
    et maris et terrae caeca pericla viae;
rursus et obiectum flemus caput esse tumultu
    cum Mavors dubias miscet utrimque manus;
    *******
praeterea domibus flammam domibusque ruinas,
    neu subeant labris pocula nigra tuis.
solus amans novit, quando periturus et a qua
    morte, neque hic Boreae flabra neque arma timet.

But you, mortals, seek the uncertain hour of death,
    and by what way death will approach;
you also seek in the serene sky the Phoenicians’ inventions,
    which star is favorable to a man and which ill!
whether we pursue the Parthians on foot or the Britons with a fleet,
    the blind perils of the way, both of sea and of land;
again we weep that the head is exposed to the tumult
    when Mavors mixes wavering hands on either side;
    *******
besides, fire for our homes and ruins for our homes,
    and let not black cups come up beneath your lips.
only the lover knows when he is going to perish and by what
    death, nor does he fear here the blasts of Boreas nor arms.

iam licet et Stygia sedeat sub harundine remex,
cernat et infernae tristia vela ratis:
si modo clamantis revocaverit aura puellae,
concessum nulla lege redibit iter.

now although even the oarsman sit beneath the Stygian reed,
and behold the gloomy sails of the infernal raft:
if only the breath of a girl calling should call him back,
the granted journey will return, by no law.

XXVIIIa

28a

IVPPITER, affectae tandem miserere puellae:
    tam formosa tuum mortua crimen erit.
hoc tibi vel poterit coniunx ignoscere Iuno:
    frangitur et Iuno, si qua puella perit.
venit enim tempus, quo torridus aestuat aer,
    incipit et sicco fervere terra Cane.

Jupiter, at last have pity on the afflicted girl:
    so beautiful, dead she will be your guilt.
this your consort Juno will even be able to pardon for you:
    even Juno is softened, if any girl perishes.
for the time comes, when the torrid air seethes,
    and the earth begins to boil with the dry Dog-star.

sed non tam ardoris culpa est neque crimina caeli
quam totiens sanctos non habuisse deos.
hoc perdit miseras, hoc perdidit ante puellas:
quidquid iurarunt, ventus et unda rapit.
num sibi collatam doluit Venus?

but the fault is not so much of ardor nor the accusations against the sky
as that so often they have not held the gods as sacred.
this destroys the wretched, this destroyed girls before:
whatever they swore, the wind and the wave snatch away.
did Venus grieve at one compared to herself?

illa peraeque
prae se formosis invidiosa dea est.
an contempta tibi Iunonis templa Pelasgae?
Palladis aut oculos ausa negare bonos?

she equally
is an invidious goddess to beauties who put themselves forward before her.
or were the temples of Pelasgian Juno despised by you?
or did you dare to deny the favorable eyes of Pallas?

semper, formosae, non nostis parcere verbis.
hoc tibi lingua nocens, hoc tibi forma dedit.
sed tibi vexatae per multa pericula vitae
extremo venit mollior hora die.

always, you beautiful ones, you do not know how to spare words.
this to you a guilty tongue, this to you beauty has given.
but to you, of a life vexed through many perils,
a softer hour comes at the day’s end.

Io versa caput primos mugiverat annos:
    nunc dea, quae Nili flumina vacca bibit.
Ino etiam prima terris aetate vagata est:
    hanc miser implorat navita Leucothoen.
Andromede monstris fuerat devota marinis:
    haec eadem Persei nobilis uxor erat.

Io, her shape turned, had lowed through her earliest years:
    now a goddess, she who as a cow drank the streams of the Nile.
Ino too in her first age wandered the lands:
    her the wretched sailor implores as Leucothea.
Andromeda had been devoted to sea monsters:
    this same was the noble wife of Perseus.

Callisto Arcadios erraverat ursa per agros:
    haec nocturna suo sidere vela regit.
quod si forte tibi properarint fata quietem,
    illa sepulturae fata beata tuae,
narrabis Semelae, quo sit formosa periclo,
    credet et illa, suo docta puella malo;
et tibi Maeonias omnis heroidas inter
    primus erit nulla non tribuente locus.
nunc, utcumque potes, fato gere saucia morem:
    et deus et durus vertitur ipse dies.

Callisto, as a bear, had wandered through the Arcadian fields:
    she steers night sails by her own constellation.
but if by chance the fates shall hasten repose for you,
    that will be the blessed fate of your burial,
you will tell Semele in what peril beauty lies,
    and that girl will believe, taught by her own misfortune;
and for you, among all Maeonian heroines,
    the first place will be, with none failing to grant it.
now, however you can, wounded, conform to fate:
    even the god is turned, and the hard day itself turns.

XXVIIIb

28b

DEFICIVNT magico torti sub carmine rhombi,
    et iacet exstincto laurus adusta foco;
et iam Luna negat totiens descendere caelo,
    nigraque funestum concinit omen avis.
una ratis fati nostros portabit amores
    caerula ad infernos velificata lacus.
sed non unius, quaeso, miserere duorum!

The rhombs, twisted beneath the magical charm, fail,
    and the laurel, scorched, lies by the extinguished hearth;
and now the Moon refuses to descend so often from heaven,
    and a black bird chants a funereal omen.
one raft of fate will carry our loves
    borne under sail to the cerulean infernal lakes.
but, I beg, take pity not on one, but on two!

    vivam, si vivet; si cadet illa, cadam.
pro quibus optatis sacro me carmine damno:
    scribam ego 'Per magnum est salva puella Iovem';
ante tuosque pedes illa ipsa operata sedebit,
    narrabitque sedens longa pericla sua.

    I shall live, if she lives; if she falls, I shall fall.
for which desired things I bind myself by a sacred charm:
    I shall write, 'By great Jove the girl is safe';
and before your feet she herself, having performed the rites, will sit,
    and, sitting, she will recount her long perils.

XXVIIIc

28c

HAEC tua, Persephone, maneat clementia, nec tu,
    Persephonae coniunx, saevior esse velis.
sunt apud infernos tot milia formosarum:
    pulchra sit in superis, si licet, una locis!
vobiscum est Iope, vobiscum candida Tyro,
    vobiscum Europe nec proba Pasiphae,
et quot Troia tulit vetus et quot Achaia formas,
    et Thebae et Priami diruta regna senis:
et quaecumque erat in numero Romana puella,
    occidit: has omnis ignis avarus habet.

May this clemency of yours, Persephone, abide, and do not you,
    spouse of Persephone, wish to be more savage.
There are among the infernals so many thousands of beauties:
    let there be one fair woman in the supernal places, if it is permitted!
With you is Iope, with you fair Tyro,
    with you Europa and un-virtuous Pasiphae,
and as many forms as old Troy and as many as Achaia bore,
    and Thebes and the shattered kingdoms of old Priam:
and whatever Roman girl was on the roll in number,
    has perished: a greedy fire holds them all.

nec forma aeternum aut cuiquam est fortuna perennis:
    longius aut propius mors sua quemque manet.
tu quoniam es, mea lux, magno dimissa periclo,
    munera Dianae debita redde choros,
redde etiam excubias divae nunc, ante iuvencae;
    votivas noctes, ei mihi solve decem!

nor is form eternal, nor is fortune perennial for anyone:
    farther off or nearer, his own death awaits each one.
since you, my light, have been released from great peril,
    render the dues to Diana, the choruses,
render also the vigils—of the goddess now, formerly of the heifer;
    discharge ten votive nights, alas for me!

XXIXa

29a

HESTERNA, mea lux, cum potus nocte vagarer,
    nec me servorum duceret ulla manus,
obvia nescio quot pueri mihi turba minuta
    venerat (hos vetuit me numerare timor);
quorum alii faculas, alii retinere sagittas,
    pars etiam visa est vincla parare mihi.
sed nudi fuerant. quorum lascivior unus,
    'Arripite hunc,' inquit, 'iam bene nostis eum
hic erat, hunc mulier nobis irata locavit.'
    dixit, et in collo iam mihi nodus erat.

Yesterday, my light, when, drunk, I was wandering in the night,
    and no band of slaves was leading me,
a tiny throng of boys, I know not how many, met me
    had come upon me (fear forbade me to count these);
of whom some held torches, others were holding arrows,
    a part even seemed to be preparing fetters for me.
but they were naked. of whom one, more wanton,
    "Seize this man," he says, "by now you know him well;
he was the one; an angry woman assigned this man to us."
    he said, and already there was a knot on my neck.

    . . .
hic alter iubet in medium propellere, at alter,
    'Intereat, qui nos non putat esse deos!
haec te non meritum totas exspectat in horas:
    at tu nescio quas quaeris, inepte, fores.
quae cum Sidoniae nocturna ligamina mitrae
    solverit atque oculos moverit illa gravis,
afflabunt tibi non Arabum de gramine odores,
    sed quos ipse suis fecit Amor manibus.

    . . .
here one orders to thrust [me] into the midst, but another,
    'Let him perish, who does not think us to be gods!
this girl awaits you for whole hours, though you have not earned it:
    but you, foolish one, seek I know not what doors.
who, when she has loosed the nocturnal bindings of her Sidonian mitre
    and that stately one has moved her heavy eyes,
there will waft to you not the odors of the Arabians from the herb,
    but those which Love himself made with his own hands.

parcite iam, fratres, iam certos spondet amores;
et iam ad mandatam venimus ecce domum.'
atque ita me iniecto dixerunt rursus amictu:
'I nunc et noctes disce manere domi.'

spare me now, brothers, now he pledges sure amours;
and now behold we have come to the appointed house.'
and thus, with a mantle thrown on, they said to me again:
'Go now and learn to stay at home at nights.'

XXIXb

29b

MANE erat, et volui, si sola quiesceret illa,
    visere: at in lecto Cynthia sola fuit.
obstipui: non illa mihi formosior umquam
    visa, neque ostrina cum fuit in tunica,
ibat et hinc castae narratum somnia Vestae,
    neu sibi neve mihi quae nocitura forent:
talis visa mihi somno dimissa recenti.
    heu quantum per se candida forma valet!

Morning it was, and I wished, if she were resting alone,
    to visit: but on the couch Cynthia was alone.
I was astonished: never did she seem to me more beautiful
    to behold, not even when she was in a purple tunic;
and she was going from here to chaste Vesta to tell her dreams,
    so that there might be nothing that would harm either herself or me:
such did she seem to me, released from recent sleep.
    alas how much, in itself, a candid form prevails!

'Quid tu matutinus,' ait 'speculator amicae,
    me similem vestris moribus esse putas?
non ego tam facilis: sat erit mihi cognitus unus,
    vel tu vel si quis verior esse potest.
apparent non ulla toro vestigia presso,
    signa volutantis nec iacuisse duos.

'Why are you, at morning,' she says, 'a spy upon your girlfriend,
    do you think me to be like your morals?
I am not so easy: one man known will be enough for me,
    either you, or if anyone can be more true.
no tracks appear on the pressed couch,
    nor signs of a tosser, nor that two have lain.'

aspice ut in toto nullus mihi corpore surgat
    spiritus admisso notus adulterio.'
dixit, et opposita propellens savia dextra
    prosilit in laxa nixa pedem solea.
sic ego tarn sancti custos deludor amoris:
    ex illo felix nox mihi nulla fuit.

look how in my whole body no breath arises
    a breath known by admitted adultery.'
she said, and, with her opposed right hand propelling the kisses away,
    she springs forth, setting her foot, leaning on a loose sandal.
thus I, guardian of so holy a love, am deluded:
    from that time no night has been happy for me.

XXXa

30a

QVO fugis a demens? nulla est fuga: tu licet usque
    ad Tanain fugias, usque sequetur Amor.
non si Pegaseo vecteris in aere dorso,
    nec tibi si Persei moverit ala pedes;
vel si te sectae rapiant talaribus aurae,
    nil tibi Mercurii proderit alta via
instat semper Amor supra caput, instat amanti,
    et gravis ipse super libera colla sedet.

Where are you fleeing, O madman? there is no flight: though you flee all the way
    to the Tanais, Love will follow all the way.
not even if you are borne through the air on a Pegasean back,
    nor if the wing of Perseus sets your feet in motion;
or if the cleft breezes snatch you with talarian sandals,
    nothing will the high road of Mercury profit you—
Love stands ever above your head, presses hard upon the lover,
    and he, heavy, sits upon free necks.

excubat ille acer custos et tollere numquam
te patietur humo lumina capta semel.
et iam si pecces, deus exorabilis ille est
si modo praesentis viderit esse preces.

He keeps vigil, a keen custodian, and will never
allow you to lift your eyes from the ground, once captured.
And now, if you should sin, that god is exorable
provided only he sees the prayers present.

XXXb

30b

ISTA senes licet accusent convivia duri:
    nos modo propositum, vita, teramus iter
illorum antiquis onerantur legibus aures:
    hic locus est in quo, tibia docta, sones,
quae non iure vado Maeandri iacta natasti,
    turpia cum faceret Palladis ora tumor.
non tamen immerito! Phrygias nunc ire per undas
    et petere Hyrcani litora nota maris,
spargere et alterna communis caede Penatis
    et ferre ad patrios praemia dira Lares!

Though stern elders may accuse these banquets:
    let us only, my life, tread the course proposed
their ears are burdened with ancient laws:
    here is the place where, learned pipe, you may sound,
you who, cast into the ford of the Maeander, swam not by right,
    when the swelling made Pallas’s face unsightly.
Not, however, undeservedly! Now to go across the Phrygian waves
    and to seek the well-known shores of the Hyrcanian sea,
and to spatter the shared Penates with alternating slaughter,
    and to bear dire prizes to the ancestral Lares!

una contentum pudeat me vivere amica?
hoc si crimen erit, crimen Amoris erit:
mi nemo obiciat. libeat tibi, Cynthia, mecum
rorida muscosis antra tenere iugis.

Should it shame me to live content with one mistress?
if this will be a crime, it will be a crime of Amor:
let no one reproach me. may it please you, Cynthia, with me
to hold the dewy caves on the mossy ridges.

illic aspicies scopulis haerere Sorores
    et canere antiqui dulcia furta Iovis,
ut Semela est combustus, ut est deperditus Io,
    denique ut ad Troiae tecta volarit avis.
quod si nemo exstat qui vicerit Alitis arma,
    communis culpae cur reus unus agor?
nec tu Virginibus reverentia moveris ora:
    hic quoque non nescit quid sit amare chorus;
si tamen Oeagri quaedam compressa figura
    Bistoniis olim rupibus accubuit.

there you will behold the Sisters clinging to the crags
    and singing the sweet thefts of ancient Jove,
how Semele was consumed, how Io was undone,
    and finally how, as a bird, he flew to the roofs of Troy.
but if no one exists who has conquered the arms of the Winged One,
    why am I alone arraigned as guilty of a common fault?
nor are you moved by reverence for the Virgins’ faces:
    this chorus too is not ignorant what it is to love;
if indeed some daughter of Oeagrus, embraced by some figure,
    once reclined upon the Bistonian crags.

hic ubi me prima statuent in parte choreae,
et medius docta cuspide Bacchus erit,
tum capiti sacros patiar pendere corymbos:
nam sine te nostrum non valet ingenium.

here, where they will set me in the first place of the chorus,
and Bacchus will be in the middle with his learned spear-point,
then I shall allow sacred corymbs to hang from my head:
for without you our genius does not avail.

XXXI

QVAERIS, cur veniam tibi tardior? aurea Phoebi
porticus a magno Caesare aperta fuit.
tantam erat in speciem Poenis digesta columnis,
inter quas Danai femina turba senis.

YOU ASK, why I come to you later? the golden portico of Phoebus
was opened by great Caesar. so great a spectacle was it arranged with Punic columns,
among which the female throng of old Danaus.

hic equidem Phoebo visus mihi pulchrior ipso
    marmoreus tacita carmen hiare lyra;
atque aram circum steterant armenta Myronis,
    quattuor artificis, vivida signa, boves.
tum medium claro surgebat marmore templum,
    et patria Phoebo carius Ortygia:
in quo Solis erat supra fastigia currus;
    et valvae, Libyci nobile dentis opus,
altera deiectos Parnasi vertice Gallos,
    altera maerebat funera Tantalidos.
deinde inter matrem deus ipse interque sororem
    Pythius in longa carmina veste sonat.

here indeed he seemed to me more beautiful than Phoebus himself,
    a marmoreal figure, to open a song with the silent lyre;
and around the altar had stood the herds of Myron,
    the artificer’s four living signs, oxen.
then in the middle a temple was rising in bright marble,
    and Ortygia, dearer to Phoebus than his fatherland:
on which the chariot of the Sun was above the gable-tops;
    and the valves, a noble work of Libyan tooth,
one lamented Gauls cast down from the summit of Parnassus,
    the other bewailed the funerals of the Tantalid maid.
then the god himself, between his mother and between his sister,
    the Pythian, sounds forth in song in a long robe.

XXXII

QUI videt, is peccat: qui te non viderit ergo,
non cupiet: facti lumina crimen habent.
nam quid Praenesti dubias, o Cynthia, sortis,
quid petis Aeaei moenia Telegoni?
cur ita te Herculeum deportant esseda Tibur?

He who sees, sins: he who will not have seen you, therefore,
will not desire: the eyes of the deed hold the crime.
for why at Praeneste, O Cynthia, do you seek uncertain lots,
why do you seek the walls of Aeaean Telegonus?
why thus do the esseda transport you to Herculean Tibur?

    Appia cur totiens te via Lanuvium?
hoc utinam spatiere loco, quodcumque vacabis,
    Cynthia' sed tibi me credere turba vetat,
cum videt accensis devotam currere taedis
    in nemus et Triviae lumina ferre deae.
scilicet umbrosis sordet Pompeia columnis
    porticus, aulaeis nobilis Attalicis,
et platanis creber pariter surgentibus ordo,
    flumina sopito quaeque Marone cadunt,
et leviter nymphis tota crepitantibus urbe
    cum subito Triton ore recondit aquam.

    Why does the Appian way so often take you to Lanuvium?
would that you would stroll in this place, whenever you have leisure,
    Cynthia, but the crowd forbids me to trust you,
when it sees you, devoted, running with torches kindled
    into the grove and to carry the lights of the goddess Trivia.
no doubt the Pompeian portico, with its shady columns,
    noble with Attalic hangings,
and the crowded row with plane-trees rising evenly,
    and the streams which fall with Maron lulled to sleep,
and, with the nymphs lightly murmuring through the whole city,
    when suddenly Triton hides the water in his mouth.

falleris, ista tui furtum via monstrat amoris:
    non urbem, demens, lumina nostra fugis!
nil agis, insidias in me componis inanis,
    tendis iners docto retia nota mihi.
sed de me minus est: famae iactura pudicae
    tanta tibi miserae, quanta meretur, erit.

you are mistaken: that way of yours demonstrates the theft of your love;
    not the city, mad one, you are fleeing our eyes!
you accomplish nothing; you compose empty ambushes against me,
    you, inert, stretch nets well-known to my learned self.
but it is less about me: the loss of chaste fame
    will be for you, poor girl, as great as it deserves.

nuper enim de te nostras me laedit ad auris
    rumor, et in tota non bonus urbe fuit.
sed tu non debes inimicae credere linguae:
    semper formosis fabula poena fuit.
non tua deprenso damnata est fama veneno:
    testis eris puras, Phoebe, videre manus.

for lately indeed a rumor about you has wounded my ears,
    and it was not good in the whole city.
but you ought not to believe a hostile tongue:
    for the beautiful, gossip has always been a penalty.
your fame has not been condemned for detected poison:
    you will be witness, Phoebus, to having seen pure hands.

sin autem longo nox una aut altera lusu
    consumpta est, non me crimina parva movent.
Tyndaris externo patriam mutavit amore,
    et sine decreto viva reducta domum est.
ipsa Venus fertur corrupta libidine Martis,
    nec minus in caelo semper honesta fuit.

but if, however, one night or another has been consumed in long play,
    small charges do not move me.
the Tyndarid changed her fatherland by a foreign love,
    and alive was led back home without a decree.
Venus herself is said to have been corrupted by the libido of Mars,
    nor was she any the less always honorable in heaven.

quamvis Ida Parim pastorem dicat amasse
    atque inter pecudes accubuisse deam,
hoc et Hamadryadum spectavit turba sororum
    Silenique senes et pater ipse chori;
cum quibus Idaeo legisti poma sub antro,
    supposita excipiens, Nai, caduca manu.
an quisquam in tanto stuprorum examine quaerit
    'Cur haec tam dives? quis dedit?

although Ida says that Paris the shepherd loved,
    and that the goddess lay down among the flocks,
this too the crowd of sister Hamadryads beheld,
    and the old Sileni and the very father of the chorus;
with whom beneath the Idaean cave you gathered apples,
    receiving them, Naiad, with your hand placed beneath as they fell.
or does anyone, amid so great an assay of debaucheries, ask:
    'Why is she so rich? who gave [it]?'

unde dedit?'
o nimium nostro felicem tempore Romam,
    si contra mores una puella facit!
haec eadem ante illam iam impune et Lesbia fecit:
    quae sequitur, certe est invidiosa minus.
qui quaerit Tatios veteres durosque Sabinos,
    hic posuit nostra nuper in urbe pedem.

'from where did she get it?'
O Rome too fortunate in our time,
    if a single girl acts against the mores!
this same thing even before her Lesbia already did with impunity:
    she who follows is certainly less invidious.
whoever seeks the ancient Tatii and the tough Sabines,
    this man has set foot only recently in our city.

tu prius et fluctus poteris siccare marinos,
    altaque mortali deligere astra manu,
quam facere, ut nostrae nolint peccare puellae:
    hic mos Saturno regna tenente fuit,
et cum Deucalionis aquae fluxere per orbem,
    et post antiquas Deucalionis aquas.
dic mihi, quis potuit lectum servare pudicum,
    quae dea cum solo vivere sola deo?
uxorem quondam magni Minois, ut aiunt,
    corrupit torui candida forma bovis;
nec minus aerato Danae circumdata muro
    non potuit magno casta negare Iovi.

you sooner will be able to dry the marine waves,
    and to pluck the high stars with a mortal hand,
than to bring it about that our girls are unwilling to sin:
    this custom was when Saturn held the realm,
and when Deucalion’s waters flowed through the orb,
    and after the ancient waters of Deucalion.
tell me, who could preserve the bed chaste,
    what goddess could live alone with a single god?
the wife once of great Minos, as they say,
    the white form of a grim bull corrupted;
nor, though surrounded by a brazen wall, did Danae any the less
    being chaste, manage to deny great Jove.

quod si tu Graias es tuque imitata Latinas,
semper vive meo libera iudicio!

but if you are Grecian and you too have imitated Latin women,
always live free, in my judgment!

XXXIIIa

33a

TRISTIA iam redeunt iterum sollemnia nobis:
    Cynthia iam noctes est operata decem.
atque utinam pereant, Nilo quae sacra tepente
    misit matronis Inachis Ausoniis!
quae dea tam cupidos totiens divisit amantis,
    quaecumque illa fuit, semper amara fuit.

Now the sad solemnities return again to us:
    Cynthia has now labored for ten nights.
And would that they perish, the sacred rites which, with the Nile tepid,
    the Inachian goddess sent to the Ausonian matrons!
what goddess has so often divided lovers so desirous—
    whoever she was, she was always bitter.

tu certe Iovis occultis in amoribus, Io,
    sensisti multas quid sit inire vias,
cum te iussit habere puellam cornua Iuno
    et pecoris duro perdere verba sono.
a quotiens quernis laesisti frondibus ora,
    mandisti et stabulis arbuta pasta tuis!
an, quoniam agrestem detraxit ab ore figuram
    Iuppiter, idcirco facta superba dea es?
an tibi non satis est fuscis Aegyptus alumnis?

you surely, Io, in Jupiter’s hidden amours,
    have felt what it is to enter many ways,
when Juno ordered that you, a girl, should have horns
    and lose your words in the hard sound of cattle.
ah, how often with oaken leaves you wounded your mouth,
    and in your stalls you chewed arbutus fed to you!
or, since Jupiter drew off the rustic figure from your face,
    is it for that reason you have become a proud goddess?
or is Egypt, with its dusky fosterlings, not enough for you?

    cur tibi tam longa Roma petita via?
quidve tibi prodest viduas dormire puellas?
    sed tibi, crede mihi, cornua rursus erunt,
aut nos e nostra te, saeva, fugabimus urbe:
    cum Tiberi Nilo gratia nulla fuit.

    why has Rome been sought by you on so long a way?
or what does it profit you that maidens sleep widowed?
    but for you, believe me, there will be horns again,
or we will drive you, cruel one, from our city:
    when there was no favor between Tiber and Nile.

at tu, quae nostro nimium placata dolore es,
noctibus his vacui ter faciamus iter.

But you, who are too much placated by our sorrow,
on these nights let us make the journey three times, unencumbered

XXXIIIb

33b

NON audis et verba sinis mea ludere, cum iam
flectant Icarii sidera tarda boves.
lenta bibis: mediae nequeunt te frangere noctes.
an nondum est talos mittere lassa manus?

Do you not hear, and do you let my words play, when now
the slow oxen bend the stars of Icarius.
you drink slowly: the middle nights cannot break you.
Or is your hand not yet weary to cast the knucklebones?

a pereat, quicumque meracas repperit uvas
    corrupitque bonas nectare primus aquas!
Icare, Cecropiis merito iugulate colonis,
    pampineus nosti quam sit amarus odor!
tuque o Eurytion vino Centaure peristi,
    nec non Ismario tu, Polypheme, mero.

ah, let him perish, whoever discovered unmixed grapes
    and first corrupted good waters with nectar!
Icarius, deservedly you were slain by the Cecropian colonists,
    you know how bitter the vine-wreathed odor is!
and you too, O Eurytion—Centaur—you perished by wine,
    and likewise you, by Ismarian neat wine, Polyphemus.

vino forma perit, vino corrumpitur aetas,
    vino saepe suum nescit amica virum.
me miserum, ut multo nihil est mutata Lyaeo!
    iam bibe: formosa es: nil tibi vina nocent,
cum tua praependent demissae in pocula sertae,
    et mea deducta carmina voce legis.

beauty perishes by wine, age is corrupted by wine,
    by wine a mistress often does not know her own man.
wretched me, how with much Lyaeus she is not changed at all!
    now drink: you are beautiful: wines do you no harm,
when your garlands, let down, hang down into the cups,
    and you read my poems with a drawn-out voice.

largius effuso madeat tibi mensa Falerno,
    spumet et aurato mollius in calice.
nulla tamen lecto recipit se sola libenter:
    est quiddam, quod vos quaerere cogat Amor.
semper in absentis felicior aestus amantis:
    elevat assiduos copia longa viros.

let your table be drenched more lavishly with Falernian poured out,
    and let it foam more softly in a gilded chalice.
yet no woman gladly withdraws alone to the couch:
    there is a certain something which Love compels you to seek.
the lover’s heat is always luckier for the absent;
    long-continued abundance makes light of men who are ever at hand.

XXXIV

CVR quisquam faciem dominae iam credat Amori?
sic erepta mihi paene puella mea est.
expertus dico, nemo est in amore fidelis:
formosam raro non sibi quisque petit.

Why should anyone now entrust the face of his mistress to Love?
thus my girl was almost snatched away from me.
having experienced it, I say: no one is faithful in love;
rarely does each man not seek a beautiful woman for himself.

polluit ille deus cognatos, solvit amicos,
    et bene concordis tristia ad arma vocat.
hospes in hospitium Menelao venit adulter:
    Colchis et ignotum nonne secuta virum est?
Lynceu, tune meam potuisti, perfide, curam
    tangere?

that god defiles kindred, unbinds friends,
    and calls those well in concord to grievous arms.
a guest came into Menelaus’s hospitality—the adulterer:
    and did not the Colchian follow an unknown man?
Lynceus, could you then, faithless one, lay hands upon my darling,
    touch her?

nonne tuae tum cecidere manus?
quid si non constans illa et tam certa fuisset?
posses in tanto vivere flagitio?

did not your hands then fall?
what if she had not been constant and so sure?
could you live in so great a scandal?

tu mihi vel ferro pectus vel perde veneno:
    a domina tantum te modo tolle mea.
te socium vitae, te corporis esse licebit,
    te dominum admitto rebus, amice, meis:
lecto te solum, lecto te deprecor uno:
    rivalem possum non ego ferre Iovem.
ipse meas solus quod nil est, aemulor umbras,
    stultus, quod stulto saepe timore tremo.

you, either pierce my breast with iron, or destroy it with venom;
    only just take yourself away from my mistress. You it shall be permitted to be a companion of my life, a companion of my body,
    you, friend, I admit as lord of my affairs: from the bed alone, from the single bed I beg you off;
    I cannot bear Jove as a rival. I myself alone—though it is nothing—emulate as a rival my own shadows,
    foolish, in that with foolish fear I often tremble.

una tamen causa est, qua crimina tanta remitto,
errabant multo quod tua verba mero.
sed numquam vitae fallet me ruga severae:
omnes iam norunt quam sit amare bonum.

one cause, however, there is, by which I remit such great crimes,
that your words erred through much pure wine.
but never will the wrinkle of severe life deceive me:
now all know how good it is to love.

XXXIVb

34b

LYNCEVS ipse meus seros insanit amores!
solum te nostros laetor adire deos.
quid tua Socraticis tibi nunc sapientia libris
proderit aut rerum dicere posse vias?

LYNCEUS, my own, raves at belated loves!
I rejoice that you alone approach our gods.
what will your wisdom from Socratic books
profit you now, or to be able to speak the ways of things?

aut quid Erechthei tibi prosunt carmina lecta?
nil iuvat in magno vester amore senex.
tu satius memorem Musis imitere Philitan
et non inflati somnia Callimachi.

Or what do the Erechthean songs you have read profit you?
your old man avails nothing in a great love.
you had better imitate Philitas, mindful of the Muses,
and the dreams of un-inflated Callimachus.

nam rursus licet Aetoli referas Acheloi,
    fluxerit ut magno fractus amore liquor,
atque etiam ut Phrygio fallax Maeandria campo
    errat et ipsa suas decipit unda vias,
qualis et Adrasti fuerit vocalis Arion,
    tristis ad Archemori funera victor equus:
non Amphiareae prosint tibi fata quadrigae
    aut Capanei magno grata ruina Iovi.
desine et Aeschyleo componere verba coturno,
    desine, et ad mollis membra resolve choros.
incipe iam angusto versus includere torno,
    inque tuos ignis, dure poeta, veni.

for again, though you recount Aetolian Achelous,
    how the liquid flowed, broken by great love,
and even how the Maeandrian, fallacious on the Phrygian plain,
    wanders, and the wave deceives its own ways,
and what the vocal Arion of Adrastus was like,
    the victorious horse, sad at Archemorus’s funerals:
the fates of Amphiaraus’s quadriga will not profit you,
    nor Capaneus’s ruin, pleasing to great Jove.
cease, too, to compose words with the Aeschylean buskin,
    cease, and loosen your limbs to soft choruses.
begin now to include your verses within a narrow lathe,
    and come into your own fires, hard poet.

tu non Antimacho, non tutior ibis Homero:
    despicit et magnos recta puella deos.
sed non ante gravis taurus succumbit aratro,
    cornua quam validis haeserit in laqueis,
nec tu iam duros per te patieris amores:
    trux tamen a nobis ante domandus eris.
harum nulla solet rationem quaerere mundi,
    nec cur fraternis Luna laboret equis,
nec si post Stygias aliquid restabit erumpnas,
    nec si consulto fulmina missa tonent.

you will go no safer with Antimachus, no safer with Homer:
    even a straight-laced girl despises great gods as well.
but not before does the weighty bull succumb to the plow,
    than when his horns have stuck fast in stout nooses;
nor will you now endure harsh loves by yourself:
    yet, savage, you will first have to be tamed by us.
none of these women is wont to seek the reason of the world,
    nor why the Moon labors with her brother’s horses,
nor whether anything will remain after Stygian hardships,
    nor whether thunderbolts, sent by counsel, thunder.

aspice me, cui parva domi fortuna relicta est
    nullus et antiquo Marte triumphus avi,
ut regnem mixtas inter conviva puellas
    hoc ego, quo tibi nunc elevor, ingenio!
me iuvet hesternis positum languere corollis,
    quem tetigit iactu certus ad ossa deus.
Actia Vergilium custodis litora Phoebi,
    Caesaris et fortis dicere posse ratis,
qui nunc Aeneae Troiani suscitat arma
    iactaque Lavinis moenia litoribus.

look at me, to whom a small fortune has been left at home
    and no ancestral triumph of a grandsire in ancient Mars,
how I, a banquet-guest, reign among mingled girls
    by this talent, for which by you I am now made light of!
let it delight me, laid down, to languish with yesterday’s garlands,
    I whom the sure god has touched to the bones with his cast.
that Vergil is able to speak of the Actian shores of Phoebus the guardian,
    and of Caesar’s brave fleet,
he who now is stirring the arms of Trojan Aeneas
    and the walls thrown up on the Lavinian shores.

cedite Romani scriptorcs, cedite Grai!
    nescio quid maius nascitur Iliade.
tu canis umbrosi subter pineta Galaesi
    Thyrsin et attritis Daphnin harundinibus,
utque decem possint corrumpere mala puellas
    missus et impressis haedus ab uberibus.

yield, Roman writers, yield, Greeks!
    I do not know what greater thing than the Iliad is being born.
you sing beneath the shady pine-groves of the Galesus
    Thyrsis and Daphnis with worn-down reeds,
and how ten apples can corrupt maidens,
    and a kid sent from the teats with the imprints pressed in.

felix, qui vilis pomis mercaris amores!
huic licet ingratae Tityrus ipse canat.
felix intactum Corydon qui temptat Alexin
agricolae domini carpere delicias!

fortunate, you who purchase loves with cheap apples!
to this ungrateful girl let Tityrus himself sing.
fortunate is Corydon who tries to pluck untouched Alexis,
the delight of the farmer‑master!

quamvis ille sua lassus requiescat avena,
    laudatur facilis inter Hamadryadas.
tu canis Ascraei veteris praecepta poetae,
    quo seges in campo, quo viret uva iugo.
tale facis carmen docta testudine quale
    Cynthius impositis temperat articulis.

although that man, weary, may rest with his own reed,
    he is praised as facile among the Hamadryads.
you sing the precepts of the old Ascraean poet,
    where the grain in the field, where the grape greens on the ridge.
you fashion such a song with a learned tortoise-shell lyre as
    Cynthius modulates with his joints laid upon it.

non tamen haec ulli venient ingrata legenti,
    sive in amore rudis sive peritus erit.
nec minor hic animis, ut sit minor ore, canorus
    anseris indocto carmine cessit olor.
haec quoque perfecto ludebat Iasone Varro,
    Varro Leucadiae maxima flamma suae;
haec quoque lascivi cantarunt scripta Catulli,
    Lesbia quis ipsa notior est Helena;
haec etiam docti confessa est pagina Calvi,
    cum caneret miserae funera Quintiliae.

not, however, will these come unwelcome to any reader,
    whether he be untrained in love or experienced.
nor less in spirit, though he be lesser in voice, the canorous
    swan yielded to the goose’s unlearned song.
these too Varro played, with Jason perfected,
    Varro, the greatest flame of his Leucadia;
these writings too the lascivious Catullus sang,
    for whom Lesbia herself is more noted than Helen;
these even the page of learned Calvus confessed,
    when he sang the funerals of wretched Quintilia.

et modo formosa quam multa Lycoride Gallus
mortuus inferna vulnera lavit aqua!
Cynthia quin etiam versu laudata Properti,
hos inter si me ponere Fama volet.

and just now, because of fair Lycoris, how many wounds did Gallus
dead, wash with infernal water!
Cynthia, nay even, lauded by the verse of Propertius,
if Fame will wish to place me among these.