Saturday, January 14, 2017

Muse in the Garden

Sorrow and terrors – take them, ye thrashing winds!
Take them and bear them out to the Cretan sea.
     I, the beloved of the Muses,
          Care I who rules in the frozen northland?

Care I what menace terrifies Titrades
Uselessly? Thou who laughest in virgin springs,
     Tie up a crown of summer flowers;
          Tie up a crown for my fondest brother.

Honey-sweet Muse, my praises without thy grace
Profit him naught, so bless him with Lesbian songs;
     Strum to my Lamia the lyre,
          Just as becomes thee and all thy sisters.

Horace I.26, my translation.



Musis amicus tristitiam et metus
Tradam protervis in mare Creticum
     Portare ventis, quis sub Arcto
          Rex gelidæ metuatur oræ,

Quid Titraden terreat, unice
Securus. O quæ fontibus integris
     Gaudes, apricos necte flores,
          Necte meo Lamiæ coronam,

Pimplea dulcis. Nil sine te mei
Prosunt honores; hunc fidibus novis,
     Hunc Lesbio sacrare plectro
          Teque tuasque decet sorores.

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