Showing posts with label Chloe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chloe. Show all posts

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Horace, Ode 3.9

"Donec gratus eram tibi
nec quisquam potior bracchia candidae
cervici iuvenis dabat,
Persarum vigui rege beatior."

"Donec non alia magis
arsisti neque erat Lydia post Chloen,
multi Lydia nominis
Romana vigui clarior Ilia."

"Me nunc Thressa Chloe regit,
dulcis docta modos et citharae sciens,
pro qua non metuam mori
si parcent animae fata superstiti."

"Me torret face mutua
Thurini Calais filius Ornyti,
pro quo bis patiar mori,
si parcent puero fata superstiti."

"Quid si prisca redit Venus
diductosque iugo cogit aeneo?
si flava excutitur Chloe
reiectaeque patet ianua Lydiae?"

"Quamquam sidere pulchrior
ille est, tu levior cortice et improbo
iracundior Hadria,
tecum vivere amem, tecum obeam libens!"


"As long as I was pleasing to you
and any better young man was not giving
his arms to your bright neck,
I flourished, happier than the king of the Persians."

"As long as you burned for no other
more and Lydia was not after Chloe,
Lydia of many names,
I flourished brighter than Roman Ilia."

"Now Thracian Chloe rules me,
learned in sweet measures and skilled of the lyre,
for whom I would not fear to die
if the Fates will spare my surviving sweetheart."

"Thurinus Calais son of Ornytus burns
me with a mutual flame,
for whom I would suffer to die twice,
if the Fates will spare my surviving boy."

"What if ancient Venus returns
and forces the separated ones into a bronze yoke?
If blonde Chloe is cast out
and the door is open to scorned Lydia?"

"Although he is more beautiful
than a star, you are lighter than a cork and angrier
than the wicked Adriatic sea,
I would love to live with you, I, willing, would die with you!"

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Horace, Ode 1.23

Vitas inuleo me similis, Chloe,
quaerenti pavidam montibus aviis
matrem non sine vano
aurarum et siluae metu.

Nam seu mobilibus veris inhorruit
adventus foliis, seu virides rubum
dimovere lacertae,
et corde et genibus tremit.

Atqui non ego te tigris ut aspera
Gaetulusve leo frangere persequor:
tandem desine matrem
tempestiva sequi viro.


You avoid me like a fawn, Chloe,
searching for its fearful mother in lonely
mountains not without an empty fear
of breezes and the forest.

For whether the arrival of spring quivers
with moving leaves, or the green lizards have
pushed aside the bramble,
and the fawn trembles with its heart and knees.

And yet I do not pursue you to crush you
as a harsh tiger or Gaetulian lion:
finally you, ripe to follow a man,
abandon your mother.