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.
