Book Read Free

The Complete Odes and Epodes

Page 11

by Horace

if only Tibur founded by Argive settlers

  might be the haven of my old age,

  my goal when fatigued at last with seas,

  with roads, with campaigns!

  And if the Parcae ban me there, I shall make

  10

  for Galaesus’ river that’s dear to skin–

  clad sheep, and the countryside ruled by

  Spartan Phalanthus.

  That parcel of land smiles for me

  above all others, where the honeys will not cede

  to Hymettus and the olives still vie

  with green Venafrum;

  where Jupiter proffers early springs

  and mild winters, and Aulon the friend

  20

  of fruitful Bacchus hardly envies

  Falernian grapes.

  That place with its blessèd heights

  summons both you and me, and there shall you

  asperge with tears the still warm ashes of

  your friend the poet.

  7

  O saepe mecum

  O my friend and oldest comrade,

  with whom I have often seen out

  the vinous, lagging day,

  with Syrian myrrh in my hair;

  Pompeius, so often led with me

  into extremity by our general

  Brutus; who has restored you

  to citizenship, your native

  Gods and Italian skies? With you I knew

  10

  the rout at Philippi and my shield,

  to my shame, left behind

  where manhood failed and words

  were eaten. Luckily Mercury

  bore me away, in my fright, in a cloud:

  but the undertow sucked you back

  to the weltering straits of war.

  Now render to Jove the banquet pledged:

  lay your frame, fatigued with long

  campaigns, beneath my laurel nor spare

  20

  the jars set aside for this day.

  Fill the bright cups with Massic

  oblivion, pour scent from capacious

  shells. Who will contrive our

  crowns of myrtle and moist

  parsley? Whom will the dice make master

  of wine? I shall drink deep

  as Edonians do: it is sweet

  to rave for a friend restored.

  8

  Ulla si iuris

  Had your perjuries ever been

  punished, Barine; had a tooth

  turned black, perhaps; had you even

  broken a nail;

  I could trust you now. But you give

  your (fallacious) word, and your beauty

  shines yet brighter, the cynosure

  of Roman youth.

  You find that it pays to swear

  10

  ‘By my mother’s ashes!’ – ‘By the silent

  stars in the sky!’ – ‘Witness the Gods,

  whom no death chills!’

  And Venus herself, and cruel Cupid

  sharpening his poisoned darts on a bloody

  stone, and even the simple Nymphs, are

  obliged to smile.

  Added to which our freeborn boys

  are growing up in effect your slaves;

  nor can your older fans bear to jilt

  20

  their lying love.

  Mothers and thrifty elders fear

  for their sons on account of your name,

  and newlywed brides suspect their

  husbands detained.

  9

  Non semper imbres

  The clouds don’t always pour down showers

  on the sodden farmland nor choppy squalls forever

  perturb the Caspian sea, friend Valgius;

  the numbing ice of Armenian marches

  does not obdure the whole year through;

  Garganus’ oak-groves do not strive

  against the north wind and ash-trees

  are not stripped of foliage permanently.

  Yet you incessantly rehearse in dying falls

  10

  the loss of Mystes: your love-laments

  do not desist when Vesper rises,

  or fades before the rushing sun.

  He who survived three generations

  did not mourn through all his life his belov’d

  Antilochus; nor did his Phrygian parents

  and sisters weep without term for their boy

  Troilus. Then cease at last

  your tender complaining –

  let us rather sing of Augustus Caesar’s

  20

  new trophies; the ice-bound Niphates;

  the Parthian river swirling in lesser eddies

  now it is added to the conquered realms;

  the Geloni riding within prescribed

  limits across their narrowed plains.

  10

  Rectius vives

  The proper course in life, Licinius,

  is neither always to dare the deep, nor,

  timidly chary of storms, to hug

  the dangerous shore.

  Who values most the middle way

  avoids discreetly both the squalor

  of the slum and a palace liable

  to excite envy.

  The gale shakes most the lofty pine,

  10

  tall towers fall with the louder

  crash and the highest peaks most often

  are struck by lightning.

  Hopeful in evil times and cautious

  in good, ready for weal or woe,

  be prepared. Jupiter imposes

  the ugly winter,

  but then withdraws it. Bad luck

  is not for ever: Apollo varies

  20

  his archery sometimes by harping

  to waken the Muse.

  In difficult straits show spirit

  and fortitude, but on the other hand

  always shorten sail when you

  run before the wind.

  11

  Quid bellicosus

  Forbear to inquire, Quinctius Hirpinus,

  what bellicose Cantabrians, and Scythians

  removed from us by the Adriatic interposed,

  are plotting. Do not excruciate about

  the modest needs of life: fresh youth

  and beauty recede behind us; drouth

  and wrinkles ban amorous longing

  and the knack of easily falling asleep.

  The glory of vernal flowers is not

  10

  for ever, nor does the bright moon shine

  with one sole face. Why tire your mortal mind

  with counsels of eternity?

  Better to drink while we may,

  reclining insouciant beneath some

  lofty plane or pine, greybeards wreathed

  in fragrant roses, anointed

  with Syrian nard. Bacchus dissipates

  nagging cares. Which slave shall quickly

  temper at the passing brook

  20

  the bowls of hot-blooded Falernian?

  Who shall lure from her home the shy drab

  Lyde? Go tell her to hurry, and come

  with her hair neatly knotted Laconian-

  style, and bring her ivory lyre.

  12

  Nolis longa ferae

  You’d not wish fierce Numantia’s tedious wars

  or doughty Hannibal or the Sicilian sea scarlet

  with Carthaginian blood to be adapted to

  the cithara’s gentle measures,

  nor Hylaeus and the Lapiths fighting drunk,

  nor the sons of the Earth subdued by

  Hercules’ hand, whence peril

  made tremble the shining house

  of ancient Saturn: you would tell better

  10

  in narrative prose, Maecenas,

  of Caesar’s campaigns and hostile kings

  led haltered through the streets.

  The Muse ha
s commanded me to speak

  of your lady Licymnia’s mellifluous

  singing, her softly flashing eyes,

  her heart so faithful in mutual love.

  Joining in with the choral dancers

  or bandying jokes or going arm in arm

  in the press of bright virgins on Diana’s

  20

  holy day, her grace was not diminished.

  Would you trade a lock of Licymnia’s hair

  for all that rich Achaemenes owned,

  the Mygdonian wealth of fertile Phrygia,

  or the chock-full homes of Arabia,

  when she bends her neck to your glowing

  kisses, or (gently stubborn) denies you, since

  (more than you wooing) she likes to have them

  stolen, and sometimes she steals first?

  13

  Ille et nefasto

  It was a black day when whoever it was

  first planted you, tree, and raised you

  sacrilegiously to posterity’s

  mishap and shame of the parish.

  I could well believe that he strangled

  his father and spattered the hearth

  at night with the blood of

  a guest. The man who set you up

  had dabbled in Colchic poisons

  10

  and all sins everywhere ever invented,

  you wretched stump who fell on the head

  of your unoffending master.

  Man never studies enough, from hour

  to hour, of what he should be ware:

  the Punic sailor abhors the Bosph’rus, but no

  unforeseeable fate elsewhere;

  the soldier the arrows of Parthians

  swiftly retreating; the Parthians Roman chains

  and dungeons; yet the violent deaths are unforeseen

  20

  that sweep and will sweep away the peoples.

  How near I came to seeing the realms

  of shadowy Proserpina, Aeacus giving judgement,

  the allotted mansions of the righteous,

  and Sappho with her Aeolian lyre

  complaining of the girls of her country,

  and you, Alcaeus, more forcefully

  musicking hardship at sea,

  hardship in exile, the hardship of war –

  the shades must wonder at both pronouncing

  30

  things worthy of reverent silence, but the dense

  mob shoulder to shoulder drinks in more

  of battles and tyrants put out.

  No wonder, when mesmerized by such songs,

  that the hundred-headed beast lays back

  his ears, and the snakes that writhe

  in the Furies’ hair fall still in rest.

  The soothing sounds bring even Prometheus

  and Tantalus delusive respite from torment,

  and Orion feels no urge

  40

  to harry the lions or nervous lynxes.

  14

  Eheufugaces

  Postumus, Postumus, fleeting years

  glide swiftly by, virtue can give no pause

  to wrinkles or imminent age

  or invincible death –

  no, not if you seek to placate

  with three hundred bulls each day

  Pluto who relentlessly jails

  Tityos and threefold Geryon

  within that grimly circling river

  10

  all must traverse who thrive

  by the spilth of earth, be we kings

  or substanceless peasants.

  In vain we keep away from bloody Mars

  and griding Adriatic breakers,

  in vain avoid the autumnal south wind

  that is foe to flesh and blood:

  we needs must look on winding black

  Cocytus’ sluggish stream, Danaus’ infamous

  brood and Sisyphus son of Aeolus,

  20

  condemned to long labour,

  Earth, home and kindly wife

  must be left, nor will any of the trees

  you foster, except the unloved cypress,

  follow their brief master.

  A worthier heir shall consume your Caecuban

  preserved with a hundred keys and drench

  the pavement with a fine wine

  too good for priestly banquets.

  15

  lam pauca aratro

  Now regal villas will leave few acres

  for ploughing; on all sides ornamental ponds

  will appear as extensive

  as Lake Lucrinus; bachelor plane-trees

  usurp the elm; beds of violets

  and myrtles and all olfactory crops

  scatter their scents in olive-groves

  which previous owners farmed;

  dense laurels exclude the burning strokes

  10

  of the sun. This is not the norm

  our ancestors divined, that Romulus

  and rough-bearded Cato prescribed.

  For them private wealth was small,

  the commonweal great: no private

  north-facing shady porches

  were then laid out with ten-foot rules:

  the law forbade abuse of the common turf

  and enjoined the adornment at public expense

  of the towns and temples

  20

  with fresh-hewn marble.

  16

  Otium divos

  Peace, Grosphus, is what the man on the open

  Aegean requires of the Gods when black cloud

  obscures the moon and no fixed star can

  flash for the sailors.

  Peace for the Thracians enraged with war,

  peace for the Medes with their stylish quivers,

  is not to be bought with gems or gold

  or gleaming fabrics.

  Neither Persian treasure nor the consul’s

  10

  lictor can disperse the wretched mob

  of the mind or the cares that flit about

  your coffered ceilings.

  He lives well on a little whose family

  salt-cellar shines amid a modest

  table, whose gentle sleep is not dispelled

  by fear or base greed.

  Why do we aim so high, so bravely,

  so briefly? Why hanker for countries scorched

  20

  by an alien sun? What exile from home

  can avoid himself?

  Care clambers aboard the armoured ships,

  keeps pace with the cavalry squadrons, comes

  swift as east-wind-driven rain, comes

  swift as any stag.

 

‹ Prev