Delphi Complete Works of Tibullus

by Tibullus

  Cum tenues hamos abdidit ante cibus;

  Spes etiam valida solatur conpede vinctum: 25

  Crura sonant ferro, sed canit inter opus;

  Spes facilem Nemesim spondet mihi, sed negat illa;

  Ei mihi, ne vincas, dura puella, deam.

  21 ’Tis Hope sustains the farmer; to ploughed furrows Hope entrusts the seed for fields to render back with heavy usury. She takes the fowl in noose, the fish with rod, the slender hook first hidden by the bait. Hope comforts, too, the slave whom stout fetters bind. The iron clanks upon his legs, but still he sings at his task. Hope promises me that Nemesis shall be kind; but she says Nay. Ah me! worst not the goddess, cruel girl.

  Parce, per inmatura tuae precor ossa sororis:

  Sic bene sub tenera parva quiescat humo. 30

  Illa mihi sancta est, illius dona sepulcro

  Et madefacta meis serta feram lacrimis,

  Illius ad tumulum fugiam supplexque sedebo

  Et mea cum muto fata querar cinere.

  Non feret usque suum te propter flere clientem: 35

  Illius ut verbis, sis mihi lenta, veto,

  Ne tibi neglecti mittant mala somnia Manes,

  Maestaque sopitae stet soror ante torum,

  Qualis ab excelsa praeceps delapsa fenestra

  Venit ad infernos sanguinolenta lacus. 40

  Desino, ne dominae luctus renoventur acerbi:

  Non ego sum tanti, ploret ut illa semel.

  29 Mercy, I pray thee, by the bones of thy sister, dead before her time; so may the child sleep well beneath the gentle earth. For me she is divine; to her tomb I will bring offerings and garlands wetted with my tears. To her grave will I fly and, sitting suppliant there, bewail my fate to her silent dust. Not forever will she bear with thee for making her votary weep. In her name I bid thee, be not cold to me, lest the slighted spirit send thee evil dreams and in thy slumbers thy mournful sister stand before thy bed, such as she was, when from the high casement she fell headlong down and passed blood-spattered to the lakes below. I cease, lest I stir again my lady’s bitter woe. I am not worth one cry of grief from her.

  Nec lacrimis oculos digna est foedare loquaces:

  Lena nocet nobis, ipsa puella bona est.

  Lena necat miserum Phryne furtimque tabellas 45

  Occulto portans itque reditque sinu.

  Saepe, ego cum dominae dulces a limine duro

  Adgnosco voces, haec negat esse domi,

  Saepe, ubi nox mihi promissa est, languere puellam

  Nuntiat aut aliquas extimuisse minas. 50

  Tunc morior curis, tunc mens mihi perdita fingit,

  Quisve meam teneat, quot teneatve modis;

  Tunc tibi, lena, precor diras: satis anxia vivas,

  Moverit e votis pars quotacumque deos.

  43 Nor is it well that tears should mar those speaking eyes. ’Tis the bawd that is my bane; the girl herself is good. Phryne, the bawd, is killing me, alas, as stealthily she passes to and fro with tablets hidden in her bosom. Many times, when from the hard threshold I recognise my mistress’s sweet voice, Phryne denies she is at home. Often, when the night has been pledged to me, she brings message that the girl is sick or has been affrighted by some warning. Then I die with distress, and desperate fancy figures to itself in what and whose embraces my love is held. Then I call curses on thee, bawd. Thy life should be full enough of fears, if any part of what I pray is heard in heaven.

  LIBER TERTIVS — BOOK III

  ELEGIES OF LYGDAMUS

  I

  Dedication to Neaera

  Martis Romani festae uenere kalendae

  - exoriens nostris hic fuit annus auis -

  et uaga nunc certa discurrunt undique pompa

  perque uias urbis munera perque domos.

  Dicite, Pierides, quonam donetur honore 5

  seu mea, seu fallor, cara Neaera tamen.

  1 THE festal Calends of Mars of Rome are come. This for our ancestors was the year’s dawning. And on all sides, travelling in order due, presents are speeding this way and that along the city’s streets and houses. Tell me, Pierian maids, with what tribute shall I present Neaera, whether mine or, if she plays me false, dear to me still.

  Carmine formosae, pretio capiuntur auare:

  gaudeat, ut digna est, uersibus illa meis.

  Lutea sed niueum inuoluat membrana libellum,

  pumex et canas tondeat ante comas, 10

  summaque praetexat tenuis fastigia chartae

  indicet ut nomen littera facta tuum,

  atque inter geminas pingantur cornua frontes:

  sic etenim comptum mittere oportet opus.

  7 “Poetry is the lure for the beautiful, gold for the greedy: so let there be new verses to gladden her as she deserves. But first let yellow parchment wrap the snow-white roll and pumice shear its hoary locks, and letters traced to show thy name border the high top of the fine papyrus, and let the horned knobs ‘mid both its fronts be painted. For in such trim guise must thy work be sent.”

  Per uos, auctores huius mihi carminis, oro 15

  Castaliamque umbram Pieriosque lacus,

  ite domum cultumque illi donate libellum,

  sicut erit: nullus defluat inde color.

  Illa mihi referet, si nostri mutua cura est,

  an minor, an toto pectore deciderim. 20

  Sed primum meritam larga donate salute

  atque haec submisso dicite uerba sono:

  15 Inspirers of this my song, I entreat ye by the shade of Castaly and the Pierian springs go to the house, and give her the dainty book just as it is; let none of its bloom be lost. She will send me answer if her love is still as mine, or if it is less, or if I have fallen wholly out of her heart. And first (she has deserved it) bestow on her an ample greeting and in subdued accents speak these words:

  “Haec tibi uir quondam, nunc frater, casta Neaera,

  mittit et accipias munera parua rogat,

  teque suis iurat caram magis esse medullis, 25

  siue sibi coniunx siue futura soror;

  sed potius coniunx: huius spem nominis illi

  auferet extincto pallida Ditis aqua.”

  23 “Thy husband once, thy brother now, sends these lines to thee, chaste Neaera, and prays thee to accept the humble gift. He swears that thou art dearer to him than his very marrow, whether thou wilt be his sister or his wife. Better his wife: hope of this title shall only Dis’s wan waters take from him when his life is quenched.”

  II

  Lygdamus Deprived of Neaera

  Qui primus caram iuueni carumque puellae

  eripuit iuuenem, ferreus ille fuit;

  durus et ille fuit, qui tantum ferre dolorem,

  uiuere et erepta coniuge qui potuit.

  Non ego firmus in hoc, non haec patientia nostro 5

  ingenio: frangit fortia corda dolor;

  nec mihi uera loqui pudor est uitaeque fateri,

  tot mala perpessae, taedia nata meae.

  1 HE who first robbed a swain of his dear and a girl of the youth she loved was a man of iron. And he was hard too who could bear a grief so great and live when his mate was taken. I am not stout in this? in my strain is no such endurance. Pain makes the brave heart break. I think it no shame to speak the truth or to own that within me there is risen loathing of a life that has suffered so much sorrow.

  Ergo cum tenuem fuero mutatus in umbram

  candidaque ossa supra nigra fauilla teget, 10

  ante meum ueniat longos incompta capillos

  et fleat ante meum maesta Neaera rogum;

  sed ueniat carae matris comitata dolore:

  maereat haec genero, maereat illa uiro.

  9 So then when I am changed to a phantom shade and above my white bones lies the black ashes’ covering, let Neaera come to my pyre with her long hair disordered and sadly weep beside it. Let her come with her dear mother to share her grief, to mourn, one for a husband, the other for a son.

  Praefatae ante meos manes animamque precatae 15

&nbs
p; perfusaeque pias ante liquore manus,

  pars quae sola mei superabit corporis, ossa

  incinctae nigra candida ueste legent

  et primum annoso spargent collecta lyaeo,

  mox etiam niueo lacte parent, 20

  post haec carbaseis umorem tollere uelis

  atque in marmorea ponere sicca domo.

  Illic quas mittit diues Panchaia merces

  Eoique Arabes, diues et Assyria,

  et nostri memores lacrimae fundantur eodem: 25

  sic ego componi uersus in ossa uelim.

  15 First of all let them address my shade and fresh departed spirit and in lustral water bathe their hands. Then with black robes ungirdled shall they gather the white bones, sole part remaining of my body, and when they are gathered together sprinkle them with old wine first and next proceed to drench them with snowy milk likewise, and after this to remove the moisture with linen cloths and place them dry in a chamber of marble. There let the merchandise which rich Panchaia, Eastern Araby, and rich Assyria send, and tears to my memory withal, be shed on the same spot. Thus, when naught is left of me but bones, would I be laid to rest.

  Sed tristem mortis demonstret littera causam

  atque haec in celebri carmina fronte notet:

  LYGDAMVS HIC SITVS EST: DOLOR HVIC ET CVRA NEAERAE,

  CONIVGIS EREPTAE, CAVSA PERIRE FVIT 30

  27 But the sad cause of my death let a legend show, and on the stone’s face which all may see let it set out these lines:

  HERE LYGDAMUS IS LAID, BY GRIEVOUS PAIN AND LONGING FOR HIS LOST NEAERA SLAIN.

  III

  What is Wealth to Lygdamus without Love?

  Quid prodest caelum uotis implesse, Neaera,

  blandaque cum multa tura dedisse prece,

  non ut marmorei prodirem e limine tecti,

  insignis clara conspicuusque domo,

  aut ut multa mei renouarent iugera tauri 5

  et magnas messes terra benigna daret,

  sed tecum ut longae sociarem gaudia uitae

  inque tuo caderet nostra senecta sinu,

  tum cum permenso defunctus tempore lucis

  nudus Lethaea cogerer ire rate? 10

  1 WHAT gain is it to have filled the heavens with vows, Neaera, and offered bland incense with constant prayer, not that I might step out from the threshold of a marble dwelling, observed and noted for a glorious house, or that bulls of mine might turn the clods o’er many a rood and earth in her bounty give me great harvests, but that through long years of life I might share my joys with thee, and that in thine arms might drop my aged frame in the hour when my course of light was fully run and stripped of all I was forced to voyage on the barque of Lethe?

  Nam graue quid prodest pondus mihi diuitis auri,

  aruaque si findant pinguia mille boues?

  Quidue domus prodest Phrygiis innixa columnis,

  Taenare siue tuis, siue Caryste tuis,

  et nemora in domibus sacros imitantia lucos 15

  aurataeque trabes marmoreumque solum?

  Quidue in Erythraeo legitur quae litore concha

  tinctaque Sidonio murice lana iuuat,

  et quae praeterea populus miratur? In illis

  inuidia est: falso plurima uulgus amat. 20

  Non opibus mentes hominum curaeque leuantur

  nec Fortuna sua tempora lege regit.

  11 What good to me were heavy weight of precious gold or a thousand oxen cleaving my rich fields? what good a house that rests on pillars from Phrygian quarries, or, Taenaros, from thine, or thine, Carystos, woods within mansions mimicking the sacred groves, or gilded cross-beams and a floor of marble? Or what the pearl shell gathered on Erythraean shores, or wool dipped in the purple dye of Sidon, and all besides that the world admires? Here envy lodges: the crowd is misguided in most that it adores. Wealth lightens not the hearts and cares of men. For Fortune rules their circumstances by ordinances of her own.

  Sit mihi paupertas tecum iucunda, Neaera:

  at sine te regum munera nulla uolo.

  O niueam quae te poterit mihi reddere lucem! 25

  O mihi felicem terque quaterque diem!

  23 With thee, Neaera, would I welcome poverty without thee I want nothing that the kings can give. O snow-bright morn that shall give thee back to me O day that will bring me three-and four-fold bliss!

  At si, pro dulci reditu quaecumque uouentur,

  audiat auersa non meus aure deus,

  nec me regna iuuant nec Lydius aurifer amnis

  nec quas terrarum sustinet orbis opes. 30

  Haec alii cupiant; liceat mihi paupere cultu

  securo cara coniuge posse frui.

  27 But if the unfriendly god should turn his ears away from all that I vow for that dear return, then no kingdoms please me, nor river of Lydia charged with gold, nor all the wealth that the earth’s round bears. Let others long for these; but let me live in humble style, if without misgivings I may have my dear wife for my own.

  Adsis et timidis faueas, Saturnia, uotis,

  et faueas concha, Cypria, uecta tua.

  Aut si fata negant reditum tristesque sorores, 35

  stamina quae ducunt quaeque futura neunt,

  me uocet in uastos amnes nigramque paludem

  diues in ignaua luridus Orcus aqua.

  33 Be with me, daughter of Saturn, and listen to my timid prayers, and thou too listen, goddess of Cyprus whose chariot is thy shell. But if Fate and the dour sisters who draw the yarn and spin the future deny returning, then let the voice of sallow Orcus, the lord of treasures amidst sluggish waters, call me to his desolate rivers and his black morass.

  IV

  Lygdamus’ Dream

  Di meliora ferant, nec sint mihi somnia uera,

  quae tulit hesterna pessima nocte quies.

  Ite procul uani falsique auertite uisus,

  desinite in nobis quaerere uelle fidem.

  Diui uera monent, uenturae nuntia sortis 5

  uera monent Tuscis exta probata uiris;

  somnia fallaci ludunt temeraria nocte

  et pauidas mentes falsa timere iubent;

  et natum in curas hominum genus omina noctis

  farre pio placant et saliente sale! 10

  Et tamen, utcumque est, siue illi uera moneri,

  mendaci somno credere siue uolent,

  efficiat uanos noctis Lucina timores

  et frustra inmeritum pertimuisse uelit,

  si mea nec turpi mens est obnoxia facto 15

  nec laesit magnos impia lingua deos.

  1 MAY the gods send better fortune, nor may the dream prove true which an evil sleep brought me yesternight. Depart from me, vain visions, take your false show away; cease to seek credit at my cost. The warnings gods send are true, and true the warnings of the inward parts, approved by seers of Tuscany, announcing the fate to come. But dreams — do they sport at random in a deceiving night, filling affrighted souls with false alarms, and, vainly fearing, do mankind seek to propitiate the menaces of the night with offering of spelt and sputtering salt? And yet, howsoever it be, whether they are wont to receive true warnings or to give ear to lies of sleep, may Lucina frustrate the terrors of this night and ordain that the innocent shall have been alarmed in vain, if neither my soul be chargeable with ugly sin nor my tongue have wickedly profaned the holy gods.

  Iam Nox aetherium nigris emensa quadrigis

  mundum cacruleo lauerat amne rotas,

  nec me sopierat menti deus utilis aegrae:

  Somnus sollicitas deficit ante domos. 20

  Tandem, cum summo Phoebus prospexit ab ortu,

  pressit languentis lumina sera quies.

  Hic iuuenis casta redimitus tempora lauro

  est uisus nostra ponere sede pedem.

  Non illo quicquam formosius ulla priorum 25

  aetas, heroum nec tulit ulla domus.

  Intonsi crines longa ceruice fluebant,

  stillabat Syrio myrtea rore coma.

  Candor erat qualem praefert Latonia Luna,

>   et color in niueo corpore purpureus, 30

  ut iuueni primum uirgo deducta marito

  inficitur teneras ore rubente genas,

  et cum contexunt amarantis alba puellae

  lilia et autumno candida mala rubent.

  Ima uidebatur talis inludere palla: 35

  namque haec in nitido corpore uestis erat.

  Artis opus rarae, fulgens testudine et auro

  pendebat laeua garrula parte lyra.

  Hanc primum ueniens plectro modulatus eburno

  felices cantus ore sonante dedit; 40

  sed postquam fuerant digiti cum uoce locuti,

  edidit haec dulci tristia uerba modo:

  17 Night’s car of four black steeds had already traversed the firmament of ether and bathed its wheels in the dark blue stream. Yet on me the god who aids the sick spirit had laid no spell: Sleep vanishes before the house of care. At last, when Phoebus looked out above the dawn, late slumber closed the tired sufferer’s eyes. Thereon a youth with holy bay encircling his brow, methought, set foot within my dwelling. Nothing more lovely than him did any age of our forerunners see, or any house of mortal folk. Down his long neck his unshorn hair was streaming. From his myrrh-laden tresses trickled dews of Syria. His radiance was such as the moon, daughter of Latona, spreads before her, and over his body’s snow was a crimson flush, such as dyes the fair cheeks and blushing face of a maid when she is first escorted to her young husband’s home, or like white lilies which flower-girls interweave with amaranths, or argent apples touched with autumn red. The hem of his palla seemed to play about his ankles. For this was the garment that covered his gleaming limbs. On his left side hung his babbling lyre, wrought with rare skill, shining with tortoise-shell and gold. On this, when first he came, he played with ivory quill, and cheering music sounded from his lips. But when fingers and voice had spoken together, then to the tune of a sweet measure he uttered these bitter words:

  “Salue, cura deum: casto nam rite poetae

  Phoebusque et Bacchus Pieridesque fauent;

  sed proles Semelae Bacchus doctaeque sorores 45

  dicere non norunt quid ferat hora sequens;

  at mihi fatorum leges aeuisque futuri

  euentura pater posse uidere dedit;

  quare ego quae dico non fallax accipe uates

  quodque deus uero Cynthius ore feram. 50