The Complete Poems
Page 61
For light elegy is cared for by many gods, and she calls whoever she wants to her measures; Bacchus attends elegy, and so do Erato51 and Ceres, and Venus, and tender Cupid with his rosy mother. For such poets, then, lavish banquets are permissible and they may often get drunk on vintage wine. But the poet who sings of wars, of heaven ruled by mature Jove, of pious heroes and semi-divine princes, who sings now of the sacred councils of the high gods, now of the infernal realm and its fierce barking dog58 – such a poet must indeed live frugally, after the fashion of the Samian master,59 and herbs must supply his harmless diet. Let crystal-clear water stand beside him in a beechen bowl, and let him drink sober draughts from the pure spring. In addition, his youth must be chaste and free from wickedness, his morals strict and his hand without stain. He must be like you, augur-priest, when shining in your sacred vestments and holy water, you rise to go into the presence of the angry gods. By this rule, so they say, the wise Tiresias68 lived after the loss of his sight, and Ogygian Linus, and Calchas, after he had fled his doomed home,69 and aged Orpheus when he tamed the wild beasts in their lonely caves.70 Thus sparing of food, thus drinking of the stream, Homer71 conveyed Dulichian72 Odysseus over wide seas – through the palace where the daughter of Phoebus and Perseis73 turned men into monsters, past the shallows made treacherous by the Sirens’ song, and through your courts, infernal king, where he is said to have detained troops of shades with an offering of black blood.76 For the poet is sacred to the gods; he is their priest, and his innermost heart and his lips breathe out Jove.
But if you would know what I am doing (if indeed you think it worthwhile to know whether I am doing anything), I am singing the King born of heavenly seed, the bringer of peace, and the blessed ages promised in the sacred books, the cries of the infant God, and the stabling under a poor roof of him who dwells with his Father in the realms above. I am singing the star-bearing sky, the hosts that sang in the upper air, and the pagan gods suddenly shattered in their own shrines. These are my birthday-gifts to Christ; the first light of dawn brought them to me. For you too89 these strains composed on my native pipes are waiting; and you, when I recite them to you, shall be the judge of their worth.
Elegia Septima
Anno aetatis undevigesimo
Nondum blanda tuas leges Amathusia noram,
Et Paphio vacuum pectus ab igne fuit.
Saepe cupidineas, puerilia tela, sagittas,
Atque tuum sprevi maxime numen, Amor.
5 Tu puer imbelles dixi transfige columbas;
Conveniunt tenero mollia bella duci:
Aut de passeribus tumidos age, parve, triumphos;
Haec sunt militiae digna trophaea tuae.
In genus humanum quid inania dirigis arma?
10 Non valet in fortes ista pharetra viros.
Non tulit hoc Cyprius (neque enim deus ullus ad iras
Promptior) et duplici iam ferus igne calet.
Ver erat, et summae radians per culmina villae
Attulerat primam lux tibi Maie diem:
15 At mihi adhuc refugam quaerebant lumina noctem,
Nec matutinum sustinuere iubar.
Astat Amor lecto, pictis Amor impiger alis;
Prodidit astantem mota pharetra deum;
Prodidit et facies, et dulce minantis ocelli,
20 Et quicquid puero dignum et Amore fuit.
Talis in aeterno iuvenis Sigeius Olympo
Miscet amatori pocula plena Iovi;
Aut qui formosas pellexit ad oscula nymphas
Thiodamantaeus naiade raptus Hylas;
25 Addideratque iras, sed et has decuisse putares,
Addideratque truces, nee sine felle minas.
Et miser exemplo sapuisses tutius, inquit;
Nunc mea quid possit dextera testis eris.
Inter et expertos vires numerabere nostras,
30 Et faciam vero per tua damna fidem.
Ipso ego si nescis strato Pythone superbum
Edomui Phoebum, cessit et ille mihi;
Et quoties meminit Peneidos, ipse fatetur
Certius et gravius tela nocere mea.
35 Me nequit adductum curvare peritius arcum,
Qui post terga solet vincere Parthus eques.
Cydoniusque mihi cedit venator, et ille
Inscius uxori qui necis author erat.
Est etiam nobis ingens quoque victus Orion,
40 Herculeaeque manus, Herculeusque comes.
Iupiter ipse licet sua fulmina torqueat in me,
Haerebunt lateri spicula nostra Iovis.
Caetera quae dubitas melius mea tela docebunt,
Et tua non leviter corda petenda mihi.
45 Nec te stulte tuae poterunt defendere Musae,
Nec tibi Phoebaeus porriget anguis opem.
Dixit, et aurato quatiens mucrone sagittam,
Evolat in tepidos Cypridos ille sinus.
At mihi risuro tonuit ferus ore minaci,
50 Et mihi de puero non metus ullus erat.
Et modo qua nostri spatiantur in urbe Quirites,
Et modo villarum proxima rura placent.
Turba frequens, facieque simillima turba dearum,
Splendida per medias itque reditque vias.
55 Auctaque luce dies gemino fulgore coruscat.
Fallor? an et radios hinc quoque Phoebus habet?
Haec ego non fugi spectacula grata severus,
Impetus et quo me fert iuvenilis agor.
Lumina luminibus male providus obvia misi,
60 Neve oculos potui continuisse meos.
Unam forte aliis supereminuisse notabam;
Principium nostri lux erat ilia mali.
Sic Venus optaret mortalibus ipsa videri,
Sic regina deum conspicienda fuit.
65 Hanc memor obiecit nobis malus ille Cupido
Solus et hos nobis texuit ante dolos.
Nec procul ipse vafer latuit, multaeque sagittae,
Et facis a tergo grande pependit onus.
Nec mora; nunc ciliis haesit, nunc virginis ori,
70 Insilit hinc labiis, insidet inde genis;
Et quascunque agilis partes iaculator oberrat,
Hei mihi, mille locis pectus inerme ferit.
Protinus insoliti subierunt corda furores;
Uror amans intus, flammaque totus eram.
75 Interea misero quae iam mihi sola placebat
Ablata est, oculis non reditura meis.
Ast ego progredior tacite querebundus, et excors,
Et dubius volui saepe referre pedem.
Findor; et haec remanet, sequitur pars altera votum;
80 Raptaque tam subito gaudia flere iuvat.
Sic dolet amissum proles Iunonia coelum,
Inter Lemniacos praecipitata focos.
Talis et abreptum solem respexit, ad Orcum
Vectus ab attonitis Amphiaraus equis.
85 Quid faciam infelix, et luctu victus? Amores
Nec licet inceptos ponere, neve sequi.
O utinam spectare semel mihi detur amatos
Vultus, et coram tristia verba loqui!
Forsitan et duro non est adamante creata,
90 Forte nec ad nostras surdeat illa preces.
Crede mihi nullus sic infeliciter arsit;
Ponar in exemplo primus et unus ego.
Parce precor teneri cum sis deus ales amoris;
Pugnent officio nec tua facta tuo.
95 Iam tuus O certe est mihi formidabilis arcus,
Nate dea, iaculis nec minus igne potens:
Et tua fumabunt nostris altaria donis,
Solus et in superis tu mihi summus eris.
Deme meos tandem, verum nec deme furores;
100 Nescio cur, miser est suaviter omnis amans:
Tu modo da facilis, posthaec mea siqua futura est,
Cuspis amaturos figat ut una duos.
Haec ego mente olim laeva, studioque supino
Nequitiae posui vana trophaea meae.
Scilicet abreptum sic me malus impulit error,
; Indocilisque aetas prava magistra fuit.
5 Donec Socraticos umbrosa Academia rivos
Praebuit, admissum dedocuitque iugum.
Protinus extinctis ex illo tempore flammis,
Cincta rigent multo pectora nostra gelu.
Unde suis frigus metuit puer ipse sagittis,
10 Et Diomedeam vim timet ipsa Venus.
Elegy VII
At the Age of 19 [18?]
I was not yet acquainted with your laws, lovely Amathusia,1 and my heart was free from Paphian2 fire. Often I scorned Cupid’s arrows as childish weapons, and most of all, Love, I scorned your divinity. ‘Boy,’ I said, ‘go and shoot the unwarlike doves. Soft battles befit the tender warrior. Or go and win high triumphs over the sparrows, little lad. These are the trophies your martial spirit deserves. Why aim your feeble weapons at mankind? That quiver of yours has no power against strong men.’ The Cyprian lad11 could not suffer this (for no god is swifter to anger), and now the fierce boy burned with double fire.
It was spring, and the first light of dawn, shining over the high gables of the farmhouse had ushered in May Day. But my eyes still sought the retreating night, and could not endure the brilliance of dawn. Love stood beside my bed, unwearied Love with painted wings; his swinging quiver betrayed the standing god. His face betrayed him too, and his sweetly threatening eyes, and everything else befitting the boy Love. Thus the Sigeian youth21 appears when he mixes brimming cups for amorous Jove on eternal Olympus; thus appeared Hylas,24 Theodamas’ son, who drew the lovely nymphs to his kisses and was carried off by a naiad. Cupid was angry (but you would have thought his anger only made him more becoming), and he uttered stern threats, full of bitterness.
‘Wretch,’ he said, ‘you might have learned wisdom more safely from the example of others. Now you will witness for yourself what my right hand can do. You shall be numbered among those who have felt my strength, and by your punishment I shall assuredly make men believe in me. It was I (in case you don’t know) who vanquished proud Phoebus after he had killed the Python.31 Even he yielded to me. And as often as he remembers Daphne, he confesses that my arrows wound more surely and more gravely than his own. The Parthian horseman,36 who conquers by turning his back, cannot bend the taut bow more skilfully than I. The Cydonian37 hunter yields first place to me, and so does he who unwittingly killed his wife.38 Huge Orion was conquered by me;39 so were the hands of Hercules,40 and Hercules’ companion too. Jove himself may hurl his thunderbolts at me, but my darts will stick in Jove’s side. As for the rest of your doubts, they will be better taught by my arrows and by your own heart, at which I must aim no gentle stroke. Fool! Your Muses will not be able to protect you, nor will Phoebus’ serpent46 offer you any cure.’ Thus he spake and, shaking a golden-tipped arrow,47 flew away to the warm breast of his Cyprian mother. But I was inclined to laugh at the threats that the fierce boy thundered at me; I had no fear of him at all.
Sometimes I took my pleasure in the city, where our citizens walk abroad, and sometimes in the country, with its outlying farmhouses. A great crowd, a radiant crowd with faces just like goddesses, come and go along the walks. The day shines doubly bright, augmented with their splendour. Am I deceived, or does Phoebus also derive his rays from them? I did not turn austerely aside from these pleasing sights; I was carried along by the impulse of youth. Not foreseeing the danger, I sent my eyes to meet their eyes; I was powerless to hold back my gaze. By chance I caught sight of one who surpassed all the others; that was the beginning of my woe. In such a form Venus herself might choose to appear to mortals; in such a form the queen of the gods64 must have shown herself. Vengeful Cupid, remembering his threat, threw her in my path; he alone wove these nets for me. Not far off the cunning boy himself was lurking, with many arrows and his huge torch weighing down on his back. Without delay he fixed himself now in the maiden’s eyelids, now in her face; then he sprang upon her lips, then settled upon her cheeks. Wherever the nimble archer flitted, alas for me, he hit my defenceless breast in a thousand places. At once strange passions stole into my heart; I burned inwardly with love, I was all one flame.
Meanwhile, she who alone could bring me happiness was swept away, never to be seen by me again. But I went on, silently lamenting, senseless and in doubt, often yearning to retrace my steps. I am torn in two: one half of me stays here, the other half follows my desire. There is pleasure in weeping for joys so suddenly snatched away. So Juno’s son,81 hurled down among the hearths of Lemnos, mourned for the heaven he had lost. So Amphiaraus84 looked back at the vanishing sun when his horses, terrified by thunder, bore him down to hell. Wretched and grief-stricken, what should I do? I can neither subdue nor pursue this new feeling of love. O that I might be granted to look but once on those beloved features and to speak of my sorrows in her presence! Perhaps she is not made of unyielding adamant, perhaps she will not be deaf to my prayers. No one, surely, has ever suffered the fires of love so unhappily; I may be cited as the first and only example. Be merciful, I pray, since you are the winged god of tender love. Do not let your actions be at variance with your office. O son of the goddess, whose arrows are as potent as fire, now you may be sure that I dread your bow. Your altars will smoke with my offerings, and you alone will be supreme to me among the gods. Take away my madness, then – yet do not take it away. I know not why, but every lover finds his pain sweet. Only be gracious enough to grant, if any maiden is ever to be mine in the future, that one arrow may pierce us both, making us lovers.
[Epilogue to the Elegies]
These vain trophies of my wantonness I once set up with foolish purpose and lazy endeavour. It is clear that mischievous error led me astray and ignorant youth was a perverse teacher. Until at length the shady Academy5 offered its Socratic streams, and taught me how to escape from the yoke to which I had submitted. From that moment the flames were extinguished, and thenceforward my heart has been rigid, surrounded with thick ice. Whence even the boy-god fears a frost for his arrows, and Venus herself dreads my Diomedean10strength.
In Proditionem Bombardicam
Cum simul in regem nuper satrapasque Britannos
Ausus es infandum perfide Fauxe nefas,
Fallor? an et mitis voluisti ex parte videri,
Et pensare mala cum pietate scelus?
5 Scilicet hos alti missurus ad atria caeli,
Sulphureo curru flammivolisque rotis.
Qualiter ille feris caput inviolabile Parcis
Liquit Iordanios turbine raptus agros.
On the Gunpowder Plot
Perfidious Fawkes, when, in recent years, you dared that unspeakable crime against the king and the British lords, did you – or am I deceived? – wish to appear merciful, in a way, and make recompense for your wickedness with evil piety? Clearly you wanted to send them to the courts of high heaven, in a sulphurous chariot with flaming wheels. In just this way, he7 whose life the fierce Parcae could not cut was swept up from the fields of the Jordan in a whirlwind.
In eandem
Siccine tentasti caelo donasse Iacobum
Quae septemgemino Belua monte lates?
Ni meliora tuum poterit dare munera numen,
Parce precor donis insidiosa tuis.
5 Ille quidem sine te consortia serus adivit
Astra, nec inferni pulveris usus ope.
Sic potius foedos in caelum pelle cucullos,
Et quot habet brutos Roma profana deos,
Namque hac aut alia nisi quemque adiuveris arte,
10 Crede mihi caeli vix bene scandet iter.
On the same
So was this the way you tried to send James to heaven, you lurking Beast2 on the seven hills? Unless your godhead can give better gifts, please spare us your deceitful presents. He has indeed now joined the fellowship of the stars, at a ripe old age, without your help and without use of hellish gunpowder.6 So use it instead to hurl your filthy friars to heaven,7 and all the immovable gods of profane Rome; for, believe me, unless you help them in this or some other way, they wil
l scarcely succeed in climbing the heavenly road.
In eandem
Purgatorem animae derisit Iacobus ignem,