Delphi Complete Works of Tibullus
Page 19
Iam modo iam possim contentus vivere parvo 25
Nec semper longae deditus esse viae,
Sed Canis aestivos ortus vitare sub umbra
Arboris ad rivos praetereuntis aquae.
Nec tamen interdum pudeat tenuisse bidentem
Aut stimulo tardos increpuisse boves, 30
Non agnamve sinu pigeat fetumve capellae
Desertum oblita matre referre domum. 32
25 May it now be mine to live for myself, to live contented with my little, and no more be ever vowed to distant marchings; but when the Dog-star rises, to escape its heat beneath some tree’s shade with a rill of water fleeting past, nor think it shame to grasp the hoe at times or chide the laggard oxen with the goad, nor a trouble to carry homewards in my arms a ewe lamb or youngling goat forgotten by its dam and left alone.
Ipse seram teneras maturo tempore vites 7
Rusticus et facili grandia poma manu;
Nec spes destituat, sed frugum semper acervos
Praebeat et pleno pinguia musta lacu. 10
Nam veneror, seu stipes habet desertus in agris
Seu vetus in trivio florida serta lapis,
Et quodcumque mihi pomum novus educat annus,
Libatum agricolae ponitur ante deo.
Flava Ceres, tibi sit nostro de rure corona 15
Spicea, quae templi pendeat ante fores,
Pomosisque ruber custos ponatur in hortis,
Terreat ut saeva falce Priapus aves.
7 When the time is ripe, let me plant the tender vines and the stout orchard trees with my own deft hands, a countryman indeed. Nor let Hope disappoint me, but ever vouchsafe the heaped-up corn and rich new wine to fill my vat. For I bend in worship wherever flowery garlands lie on deserted tree-stock in the fields or old stone at a crossway and of all my fruit that the fresh season ripens I set the first before the country’s guardian god. Ceres of the yellow hair, let my farm produce the spiky wreath to hang before thy temple doors. And in the fruitladen garden be red Priapus set as watch, to scare the birds with cruel billhook.
Vos quoque, felicis quondam, nunc pauperis agri
Custodes, fertis munera vestra, Lares. 20
Tunc vitula innumeros lustrabat caesa iuvencos,
Nunc agna exigui est hostia parva soli.
Agna cadet vobis, quam circum rustica pubes
Clamet ‘io messes et bona vina date’.
19 Ye too, my Lares, who watch over an estate, now poor though thriving once, receive your gifts. Then a slam heifer was peace-offering for uncounted beeves a lamb is now the humble victim for my narrow plot of ground. A lamb shall fall for you, and round it the country youth shall shout: “Huzza! Send us good crops and wine!”
At vos exiguo pecori, furesque lupique,
Parcite: de magno est praeda petenda grege.
Hic ego pastoremque meum lustrare quotannis 35
Et placidam soleo spargere lacte Palem.
Adsitis, divi, neu vos e paupere mensa
Dona nec e puris spernite fictilibus.
Fictilia antiquus primum sibi fecit agrestis
Pocula, de facili conposuitque luto. 40
33 But ye, ye thieves and wolves, have mercy on my scanty flocks; from great herds must ye take your spoil. Here is all I have to make the yearly expiation for my herdsman, and to sprinkle over Pales the milk that makes her kind. Be with me, Gods: nor scorn gifts from a humble board and on clean earthenware. Earthen were the drinking-cups which the ancient clay made himself,’ modelling them from pliant clay.
Non ego divitias patrum fructusque requiro,
Quos tulit antiquo condita messis avo:
Parva seges satis est, satis requiescere lecto
Si licet et solito membra levare toro.
Quam iuvat inmites ventos audire cubantem 45
Et dominam tenero continuisse sinu
Aut, gelidas hibernus aquas cum fuderit Auster,
Securum somnos igne iuvante sequi.
Hoc mihi contingat. Sit dives iure, furorem
Qui maris et tristes ferre potest pluvias. 50
O quantum est auri pereat potiusque smaragdi,
Quam fleat ob nostras ulla puella vias.
41 I ask not for the riches of my sires or the gains which garnered harvests brought to my ancestors of yore. A small field’s produce is enough — enough if I may sleep upon my bed and the mattress ease my limbs as heretofore. What delight to hear the winds rage as I lie and hold my love safe in my gentle clasp; or, when the stormy South Wind sheds the chilling showers to follow the road of untroubled sleep, the ram my lullaby! This be my lot; let him be rightly rich who can bear the rage of the sea and the dreary rain. Ah, sooner let all the gold and all the emeralds perish from the world than any maiden weep for my departings.
Te bellare decet terra, Messalla, marique,
Ut domus hostiles praeferat exuvias;
Me retinent vinctum formosae vincla puellae, 55
Et sedeo duras ianitor ante fores.
Non ego laudari curo, mea Delia; tecum
Dum modo sim, quaeso segnis inersque vocer.
53 ’Tis right for thee, Messalla, to campaign on land and sea that on thy house’s front may show the spoils of foemen: I am a captive fast bound in the bonds of a lovely girl; I sit a janitor before her stubborn doors. I care not for glory, Delia dear; let me only be with thee, and I will pray folk call me sluggard and idler.
Te spectem, suprema mihi cum venerit hora,
Te teneam moriens deficiente manu. 60
Flebis et arsuro positum me, Delia, lecto,
Tristibus et lacrimis oscula mixta dabis.
Flebis: non tua sunt duro praecordia ferro
Vincta, neque in tenero stat tibi corde silex.
Illo non iuvenis poterit de funere quisquam 65
Lumina, non virgo, sicca referre domum.
Tu manes ne laede meos, sed parce solutis
Crinibus et teneris, Delia, parce genis.
59 May I look on thee when my last hour comes; may I hold thy hand, as I sink, in my dying clasp. Thou wilt weep for me, Delia, when I am laid on the bed that is to burn; thou wilt give me kisses mingled with bitter tears. Thou wilt weep: thy breast is not cased in iron mail; in thy soft heart there is no stubborn flint. From that burial none, neither youth nor maiden, will return with dry eyes home. Do thou hurt not my spirit; but spare thy loosened hair and spare thy soft cheeks, Delia.
Interea, dum fata sinunt, iungamus amores:
Iam veniet tenebris Mors adoperta caput, 70
Iam subrepet iners aetas, nec amare decebit,
Dicere nec cano blanditias capite.
Nunc levis est tractanda Venus, dum frangere postes
Non pudet et rixas inseruisse iuvat.
Hic ego dux milesque bonus: vos, signa tubaeque, 75
Ite procul, cupidis volnera ferte viris,
Ferte et opes: ego conposito securus acervo
Despiciam dites despiciamque famem.
69 Meantime, while Fate allows, let us be one in love. Soon will Death be here with his head cowled in dark. Soon will steal on us the inactive age, nor will it be seemly to play the lover or utter soft speeches when the head is hoar. Now let gay love be my pursuit while it is no shame to break a door down and a joy to plunge into a brawl. ’Tis here I am brave captain and private. Begone, ye trumpets and ensigns! take wounds to the men of greed, and take them wealth. I, safe on my garnered heap, will look down on hunger as I look down on wealth.
II
To Delia
Adde merum vinoque novos conpesce dolores,
Occupet ut fessi lumina victa sopor,
Neu quisquam multo percussum tempora baccho
Excitet, infelix dum requiescit amor.
Nam posita est nostrae custodia saeva puellae, 5
Clauditur et dura ianua firma sera.
Ianua difficilis domini, te verberet imber,
Te Iovis imperio fulmina missa petant.
Ianua, iam pateas uni mihi, victa querelis,
Et mala siqua tibi dixit dementia nostra,
Ignoscas: capiti sint precor illa meo.
Te meminisse decet, quae plurima voce peregi
Supplice, cum posti florida serta darem.
1 MORE wine; let the liquor master these unwonted pains, that on my wearied eyes may fall triumphant sleep; and when the wine god’s copious fumes have mounted to my brain, let none awake me from unhappy love’s repose. For a cruel watch has been set upon my girl, and the door is shut and bolted hard against me. Door of a stubborn master, may the rain lash thee, and bolts flying at Jupiter’s command make thee their mark. Door, now yield to my complaining and open only unto me, and make no sound as thy hinge turns stealthily to let me in. And if my frenzy has ever called ill upon thee, have pardon; let that fall, I pray, on my own head. ’Tis right thou shouldst remember all that I rehearsed in suppliant tones when on thy posts I laid my flowery garlands.
Tu quoque ne timide custodes, Delia, falle, 15
Audendum est: fortes adiuvat ipsa Venus.
Illa favet, seu quis iuvenis nova limina temptat,
Seu reserat fixo dente puella fores;
Illa docet molli furtim derepere lecto,
Illa pedem nullo ponere posse sono, 20
Illa viro coram nutus conferre loquaces
Blandaque conpositis abdere verba notis.
Nec docet hoc omnes, sed quos nec inertia tardat
Nec vetat obscura surgere nocte timor.
En ego cum tenebris tota vagor anxius urbe, 25
* * *
15 Do thou too, Delia, trick the guard with no faint spirit. Be bold: Venus herself aids the stouthearted. She helps when a lad tries a strange threshold or a lass pushes in the prong to lift the bar from the door. She shows how to creep down stealthily from the pillowed bed; how so to set the foot that it makes no sound; how in the husband’s presence to exchange the speaking nods and hide love’s language under a code of signs. Nor shows she this to all, but to them whom neither indolence delays nor fear forbids to rise in the murk of night.
Nec sinit occurrat quisquam, qui corpora ferro
Volneret aut rapta praemia veste petat.
Quisquis amore tenetur, eat tutusque sacerque
Qualibet: insidias non timuisse decet. 30
Non mihi pigra nocent hibernae frigora noctis,
Non mihi, cum multa decidit imber aqua.
26 Lo, I in my wanderings in distress through all the city in the dark [meet with no harm. The goddess shields me] and lets no one cross my path to wound my body with his steel or seize my garments for his prize. Whosoe’er hath love in his heart may pass in heaven’s keeping where he will; no ambush should he fear. The numbing cold of winter’s night brings me no hurt, no hurt the heavy downpour of the rain. My sufferings here will harm me not, if Delia but unbar the door and summon me silently with a finger’s snap.
Non labor hic laedit, reseret modo Delia postes
Et vocet ad digiti me taciturna sonum.
Parcite luminibus, seu vir seu femina fiat 35
Obvia: celari volt sua furta Venus.
Neu strepitu terrete pedum neu quaerite nomen
Neu prope fulgenti lumina ferte face.
Siquis et inprudens adspexerit, occulat ille
Perque deos omnes se meminisse neget: 40
33 Be not busy with your eyes, be you man or woman that we meet. Love’s goddess wills her thefts should not be seen. Nor frighten us with noisy feet nor seek our names, nor bring the flashing torchlights near us. And if any have beheld us unawares, let him hide the knowledge and aver by all the gods that he remembers not. For if any man turn prater, he shall find that Venus is the child of blood and whirling seas.
Nam fuerit quicumque loquax, is sanguine natam,
Is Venerem e rapido sentiet esse mari.
Nec tamen huic credet coniunx tuus, ut mihi verax
Pollicita est magico saga ministerio.
Hanc ego de caelo ducentem sidera vidi, 45
Fluminis haec rapidi carmine vertit iter,
Haec cantu finditque solum Manesque sepulcris
Elicit et tepido devocat ossa rogo;
Iam tenet infernas magico stridore catervas,
Iam iubet adspersas lacte referre pedem. 50
Cum libet, haec tristi depellit nubila caelo,
Cum libet, aestivo convocat orbe nives.
41 And yet none such will thy spouse believe, as the honest witch has promised me from her magic rites. I have seen her drawing stars from the sky. Her spells turn the course of the hurrying stream. Her chaunting cleaves the ground, lures the spirit from its tomb, and down from the warm pyre summons the bony frame. Now with magic shrillings she keeps the troops of the grave before her; now she sprinkles them with milk and commands them to retreat. At will she chases the clouds from the frowning heavens; at will she musters the snow in the summer skies. Only she, men say, holds the secret of Medea’s deadly herbs, only she has lamed the wild hounds of Hecate.
Sola tenere malas Medeae dicitur herbas,
Sola feros Hecates perdomuisse canes.
Haec mihi conposuit cantus, quis fallere posses: 55
Ter cane, ter dictis despue carminibus.
Ille nihil poterit de nobis credere cuiquam,
Non sibi, si in molli viderit ipse toro.
53 She framed me a charm to enable thee to deceive: chaunt it thrice and spit thrice when the spell is done. Then will he never trust any one in aught that is said about us, nay, not even his own eyes if he see us on the pillowed bed. Yet from others thou must keep away; since all else will he perceive; only to me will he be blind.
Tu tamen abstineas aliis: nam cetera cernet
Omnia, de me uno sentiet ipse nihil. 60
Quid, credam? nempe haec eadem se dixit amores
Cantibus aut herbis solvere posse meos,
Et me lustravit taedis, et nocte serena
Concidit ad magicos hostia pulla deos.
Non ego, totus abesset amor, sed mutuus esset, 65
Orabam, nec te posse carere velim.
Ferreus ille fuit, qui, te cum posset habere,
Maluerit praedas stultus et arma sequi.
Ille licet Cilicum victas agat ante catervas,
Ponat et in capto Martia castra solo, 70
Totus et argento contextus, totus et auro
Insideat celeri conspiciendus equo,
Ipse boves mea si tecum modo Delia possim
Iungere et in solito pascere monte pecus,
59 “Why should I trust her?” Surely it was she, none other, said that by spells or herbs she could unbind my love. She cleansed me with the torch rite, and in the clear night a dusky victim fell to the gods of sorcery. But my prayer was not that my love might pass entirely, but that it might be shared. I would not choose to be without thee if I could. That man was iron who, when thou mightest have been his, chose rather to follow war and plunder. Let him chase Cilicia’s routed troops before him, and pitch his martial camp upon captured ground; let folk gaze upon him as he sits his swift charger, from head to foot a tissue of silver and gold, if only with thee, my Delia, I may put the oxen in the yoke and feed my flock on the familiar hill; and, so my young arms may hold thee fast, I shall find soft slumber even on the rugged earth.
Et te, dum liceat, teneris retinere lacertis, 75
Mollis et inculta sit mihi somnus humo.
Quid Tyrio recubare toro sine amore secundo
Prodest, cum fletu nox vigilanda venit?
75 What gain is it to lie on Tyrian cushions with Love untoward, when night must pass in waking and weeping? For then can neither pillows of feathers nor broidered coverlets nor the sound of purling waters bring us sleep.
Nam neque tum plumae nec stragula picta soporem
Nec sonitus placidae ducere posset aquae. 80
Num Veneris magnae violavi numina verbo,
Et mea nunc poenas inpia lingua luit?
Num feror incestus sedes adiis
se deorum
Sertaque de sanctis deripuisse focis?
Non ego, si merui, dubitem procumbere templis 85
Et dare sacratis oscula liminibus,
Non ego tellurem genibus perrepere supplex
79 Have I wronged the godhead of Venus by aught that I have said, and does my tongue now pay the penalty of sin? Can they say of me that I have wickedly invaded an abode of gods and plucked the garland from the sacred altar? Am I guilty, then I will not shrink to fall prone before her temple and to press kisses on its hallowed threshold, nor to crawl on suppliant knees along the earth and strike my head against the sacred door-posts.
Et miserum sancto tundere poste caput.
At tu, qui laetus rides mala nostra, caveto
Mox tibi: non uni saeviet usque deus. 90
Vidi ego, qui iuvenum miseros lusisset amores,
Post Veneris vinclis subdere colla senem
Et sibi blanditias tremula conponere voce
Et manibus canas fingere velle comas,
Stare nec ante fores puduit caraeve puellae 95
Ancillam medio detinuisse foro.
87 Yet thou who dost now rejoice and laugh at my woes must look to thyself ere long; the god will not always persecute but one. I have seen the man that had mocked the hapless loves of the young, in later time put his aged neck in the halter of Venus and make soft speeches for himself in quavering tones and turn his hands to dressing his hoary hair: nor did he blush to stand before the doors of the beloved or to stop her maid in the middle of the forum. Round him boys and young men pressed in a jostling crowd, and spat each into his own soft bosom.
Hunc puer, hunc iuvenis turba circumterit arta,
Despuit in molles et sibi quisque sinus.
At mihi parce, Venus: semper tibi dedita servit
Mens mea: quid messes uris acerba tuas?
97 Be gentle with me, Venus: my soul is ever thy loyal slave. Why burn thine own corn in thy passion?
III
The Poet Sick — To Messalla
Ibitis Aegaeas sine me, Messalla, per undas,
O utinam memores ipse cohorsque mei.
Me tenet ignotis aegrum Phaeacia terris,
Abstineas avidas, Mors, modo, nigra, manus.