The Society for Ancient Languages

Week Four

HORACE'S ODES

BOOK III, ODE 4

Descende caelo et dic age tibia
regina longum Calliope melos,
   seu voce nunc mavia acuta,
       seu fidibus citharave Phoebi.
   Descend from heaven and, come, play upon your pipe, queen Calliope, a long tune, or if now you prefer, (sing) with your clear voice or to the strings and lyre of Phoebus.
Auditis, an me ludit amabilis
insania? Audire et videor pios
   errare per lucos, amoenae
       quos et aquae subeunt et aurac.
   Are you (all) listening? Or does a delightful feeling of inspiration delude me? I seem to hear you and to stray through holy groves, past which flow pleasant streams and breezes.
Me fabulosae Vulture in Apulo
nutricis extra limina Pulliae
   ludo fatigatumque somno
       fronde nova puerum palumbes
   On Apulian Voltur, beyond the limits set by my nurse Pullia, when I was a boy, tired with play and sleepiness, the fabled doves concealed me with fresh leaves, so that it was a miracle to all who dwelt in the nest of lofty Aceruntia and the glades of Bantia and the rich earth of low-lying Forentum, how I slept with my body safe from black vipers and bears and was covered with sacred laurel and myrtle collected together, a spirited infant, not without divine protection.
texere, mirum quod foret omnibus,
quicumque celsae nidum Acherontiae
   saltusque Bantinos et arvum
       pingue tenent humilis Forenti,
ut tuto ab atris corpore viperis
dormirem et ursis, ut premerer sacra
   lauroque collataque myrto,
       non sine dis animosus infans.
Vester, Camenae, vester in arduos
tollor Sabinos, seu mihi frigidum
   Praeneste seu Tibur supinum
       seu liquidae placuere Baiae.
   Under your protection, Muses, under your protection, I climb into the steep Sabine hills, or if chill Praeneste or Tibur reclining on its hill or cloudless Baiae has taken my fancy. Since I was a friend to your fountains and dances, neither the battle-line beaten back at Philippi nor the accursed tree nor cape Palinurus in Sicilian waters snuffed me out. So long as you are with me, gladly as a sailor shall I attempt the raging Bosporus and as a wayfarer the burning sands of the Assyrian shore; I shall visit the Britons savage to strangers and the Concanian rejoicing in horses' blood, I shall visit the quivered Geloni and the Scythian river, unscathed.
Vestris amicum fontibus et choris
non me Philippis versa acies retro,
   devota non exstinxit arbos,
       nec Sicula Palinurus unda.
Utcumque mecum vos eritis, libens
insanientem navita Bosphorum
   temptabo et urentis harenas
       litoris Assyrii viator,
visam Britannos hospitibus feros
et laetum equino sanguine Concanum,
   visam pharetratos Gelonos
       et Scythicum inviolatus amnem.
Vos Caesarem altum, militia simul
fessas cohortis abdidit oppidis,
   finire quaerentem labores
       Pierio recreatis antro;
   You refresh great Caesar in a Pierian cave, as soon as he has disbanded his soldiery, wearied with warfare, among the townships, when he is looking for an end to his labors; you both give him gentle counsel and rejoice in its giving, kindly ones.
   We know how he destroyed the impious Titans and their dreadful crew with his crashing thunderbolt, who governs the inert earth, the windy sea and cites and the sad kingdoms (of the dead) and gods and the troops of mortal men, he alone, with his impartial rule.
vos lene consilium et datis et dato
gaudetis almae. Scimus ut impios
   Titanas immanemque turbam
       fulmine sustulerit caduco,
qui terram inertem, qui mare temperat
ventosum, et urbes regnaque tristia
   divosque mortalisque turmas
       imperio regit unus aequo.
Magnum illa terrorem intulerat Iovi
fidens iuventus horrida bracchiis
   fratresque tendentes opaco
       Pelion imposuisse Olympo.
   Great terror that band of youth had inspired in Jupiter, trusting in its forest of hands, and those brothers who strove to set Pelion upon shady Olympus. But what could Typhoeus and strong Mimas or Porphyrion of menacing stature, what could Rhoetus and Enceladus the bold spearman with torn-up trees, what could they do hurling themselves against the thundering aegis of Pallas? On this hand stood greedy Vulcan, on that the matron Juno and, never destined to take the bow from his shoulders, he who washes his flowing hair in the dew of Castalia, who dwells in the thickets of Lycia and the wood of his birth, Apollo of Delos and Patara.
Sed quid Typhoeus et validus Mimas,
aut quid minaci Porphyrion statu,
   quid Rhoetus evulsisque truncis
       Enceladus iaculator audax
contra sonantem Palladis aegida
possent ruentes? Hinc avidus stetit
   Vulcanus, hinc matrona Iuno et
       numquam umeris positurus arcum,
qui rore puro Castaliae lavit
crinis solutos, qui Lyciae tenet
   dumeta natalemque silvam,
       Delius et Patareus Apollo.
Vis consili expers mole ruit sua:
vim temperatam di quoque provehunt
   in maius; idem odere viris
       omne nefas animo moventis.
   Force that is devoid of judgement crashes under its own weight: force that is controlled the gods even promote to greater heights, but they despise violence that meditates in its heart all that is wrong. As a witness to my opinions there is hundred-handed Gyges and Orion, famous as the assailant of the virgin Diana, tamed by the maiden's arrow. (Mother) Earth, piled over her own monsters, grieves and mourns for her children shot down by the thunderbolt to ghostly Orcus, nor has the swift fire eaten through Aetna set on top of it, nor has the bird abandoned the liver of lustful Tityos, set as guardian over his wickedness: three hundred chains confine the lover Pirithous.
Testis mearum centimanus Gyges
sententiarum, notus et integrae
   temptator Orion Dianae,
       virginea domitus sagitta.
Iniecta monstris Terra dolet suis
maeretque partus fulmine luridum
   missos ad Orcum, nec peredit
       impositam celer ignis Aetnen,
incontinentis nec Tityi iecur
reliquit ales, nequitiae additus
   custos; amatorem trecentae
       Pirithoum cohibent catenae.

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