Horace, Ode 1.25

Parcius iunctas quatiunt fenestras

iactibus crebris iuvenes protervi,

nec tibi somnos adimunt, amatque

ianua limen,

quae prius multum facilis movebat

cardines. Audis minus et minus iam:

"Me tuo longas pereunte noctes

Lydia, dormis?"

Invicem moechos anus arrogantis

flebis in solo levis angiportu,

Thracio bacchante magis sub inter-

lunia vento,

cum tibi flagrans amor et libido,

quae solet matres furiare equorum,

saeviet circa iecur ulcerosum,

non sine questu,

laeta quod pubes hedera virenti

gaudeat pulla magis atque myrto,

aridas frondes hiemis sodali

dedicet Euro.

The bold young men less often shake

your joined windows with frequent throwings,

nor do they steal slumbers from you, and the door

loves the threshold,

which earlier was moving its hinges more

easily. You hear less and less now:

"With me wasting away long nights for you,

Lydia, you sleep?"

In turn a weak old woman you will cry for

arrogant adulterers in a lonely alley,

with the Thracian wind reveling more

on moonless nights,

when love and desire blazes for you,

such as is accustomed to madden the mothers of horses,

it will rage around your inflamed liver,

not without complaint,

because happy youth rejoices with the green ivy

more than the somber myrtle,

and dedicates the dry leaves to Euro,

the companion of winter.

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.

Horace, Epode 2

"Beatus ille qui procul negotiis,

ut prisca gens mortalium,

paterna rura bobus exercet suis,

solutus omni faenore,

neque excitatur classico miles truci,

neque horret iratum mare,

forumque vitat et superba civium

potentiorum limina.

Ergo aut adulta vitium propagine

altas maritat populos,

aut in reducta valle mugientium

prospectat errantis greges,

inutilisque falce ramos amputans

feliciores inserit,

aut pressa puris mella condit amphoris,

aut tondet infirmas ovis;

vel cum decorum mitibus pomis caput

Autumnus agris extulit,

ut gaudet insitiva decerpens pira

certantem et uvam purpurae,

qua muneretur te, Priape, et te, pater

Silvane, tutor finium.

Libet iacere modo sub antiqua ilice,

modo in tenaci gramine;

labuntur altis interim ripis aquae,

queruntur in silvis aves,

fontesque lymphis obstrepunt manantibus,

somnos quod invitet levis.

At cum tonantis annus hibernus Iovis

imbres nivesque comparat,

aut trudit acris hinc et hinc multa cane

apros in obstantis plagas,

aut amite levi rara tendit retia,

turdis edacibus dolos,

pavidumque leporem et advenam laqueo gruem

iucunda captat praemia.

Quis non malarum quas amor curas habet

haec inter obliviscitur?

Quodsi pudica mulier in partem iuvet

domum atque dulcis liberos,

Savina qualis aut perusta solibus

pernici uxor Apuli,

sacrum vetustis exstruat lignis focum

lassi sub adventum viri,

claudensque textis cratibus laetum pecus

distenta sicceet ubera,

et horna dulci vina promens dolio

dapes inemptas apparet,

non me Lucrina iuverint conchylia

magisve rhombus aut scari,

si quos Eois intonata fluctibus

hiems ad hoc vertat mare,

non Afra avis descendat in ventrem meum,

non attagen Ionicus

iucundior quam lecta de pinguissimis

oliva ramis arborum

aut herba lapathi prata amantis et gravi

malvae salubres corpori,

vel agna festis caesa Terminalibus

vel haedus ereptus lupo.

Has inter epulas ut iuvat pastas oves

videre properantis domum,

videre fessos vomerem inversum boves

collo trahentis languido

positosque vernas, ditis examen domus,

circum renidentis Lares."

Haec ubi locutus faenerator Alfius,

iam iam futurus rusticus,

omnem redegit Idibus pecuniam,

quaerit Kalendis ponere.

He is blessed who, away from work,

just as the ancient race of mortals,

cultivates his father's farms with his ox,

free from all debt,

and, a soldier, is not stirred up by the wild trumpet,

and, angry, does not shudder at the sea,

and avoids the forum and arrogant thresholds

of powerful citizens.

Therefore either may he marry the high poplars

with the mature offspring of the vines,

or may he gaze out at the herds of wandering (animals),

with the lowing cattle having returned to the valley,

and having cut off the useless branches with a pruning knife

may be graft on the fruitful branches,

or having pressed the honey may he put into clean pitchers,

or may he sheer the gentle sheep;

even when Autumn carried out its head with the adorned

ripe fruits of the field,

how he delights to pluck the grafted pears

and the purple grapes,

with which to honor you, Priapus, and you, father

Silvanus, protector of the country.

It is pleasing to lie now under the ancient ree,

now on the thick grass;

at the same time he slips on the high banks of water,

the birds complain in the forests,

and the streams roar with flowing water,

which invites light sleeps.

But when the winter season provides rains and

snow of thundering Jove,

or pushes the bitter boars here and here with a dog

of many opposing strokes,

or stretches the thin net with the smooth pole,

tricks for greedy thrushes,

and entices with a trap the timid rabbit and foreign

crane, pleasing prizes.

Who does not forget the cares of evil which he holds

among love?

But if a chaste woman helps the house

and sweet children in part,

like a Sabine woman or a wife of persistent

Apulus burned by the sun,

she builds a sacred altar with old wood before

the arrival of a tired man,

and closing the happy herd in the wicker structure,

she drys the full udders,

and, bringing out this year's wines from the sweet jar,

she prepares the unbought fest,

Lucrinus oysters are not pleasing to me more than

turbot or scarfish,

if winter, thundering on the Eastern waves, turned them

to this sea,

the African bird does not descend to my stomach,

nor the Ionican grouse more

pleasing than an olive picked from the fattest

branch of the tree,

or a meadow herb of loving sorrel and a beneficial

plant for a heavy body,

either a ewe slaughtered for the festival of boundaries,

or a kid rescued from a wolf.

Among these feasts how pleasing to see the freed sheep

hurrying home,

to see the tired cows dragging the upside-down plow

with tired necks

and the arranged slaves, swarm of a wealthy home,

around shining Lares."

When the money-lender Alfius had said these things,

now already about to be a farmer,

he returned all money on the Ides,

he seeks to put it on the Kalends.

Horace, Ode 1.4

Solvitur acris hiems grata vice veris et Favoni,

trahuntque siccas machinae carinas,

ac neque iam stabulis gaudet pecus aut arator igni,

nec prata canis albicant pruinis.

Iam Cytherea choros ducit Venus imminente luna,

iunctaeque Nymphis Gratiae decentes

alterno terram quatiunt pede, dum gravis Cyclopum

Vulcanus ardens visit officinas.

Nunc decet aut viridi nitidum caput impedire mytro

aut flore, terrae quem ferunt solutae;

nunc et in umbrosis Fauno decet immolare lucis,

seu poscat agna sive malit haedo.

Pallida Mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas

regumque turris. O beate Sesti,

vitae summa brevis spem nos vetat incohare longam.

Iam te premet nox fabulaeque Manes

et domus exilis Plutonia; quo simul mearis,

nec regna vini sortiere talis,

nec tenerum Lycidan mirabere, quo calet iuventus

nunc omnis et mox virgines tepebunt.

Bitter winter is being melted with the welcome change of spring and of Favonius,

and the machines drag the dry hulls,

and the herd no longer rejoices in their stalls or the farmer by the fire,

nor are the meadows white with white frost.

Now Cytherean Venus leads the chorus with the moon overhead,

and the linked comely Graces with the Nymphs

shake the earth with alternating foot, while burning Vulcan

visits the workshop of the mighty Cyclops.

Now it is fitting to entwine the shining head with either fresh myrtle

or blossoms, which the released lands bear;

now, too, it is fitting to sacrifice to Faunus in shady groves,

whether he asks for an ear of grain or he prefers a young goat.

Pale Death beats with an equal foot the huts of poor men and the

towers of kings. Oh, fortunate Sestius,

life's brief extent forbids us to establish long hope.

Soon night and bleak Plutonia will press you

and the home of phantom shades; as soon as you get there,

neither obtain by dice the lordship of wine,

nor marvel at Lycidan young and tender, for whom every youth

is now hot with desire and soon the maidens will grow hot.

Horace, Ode 1.9

Vides ut alta stet nive candidum

Soracte, nec iam sustineant onus

silvae laborantes, geluque

flumina constiterint acuto.

Dissolve frigues ligna super foco

large reponens atque benignius

deprome quadrimum Sabina,

o Thaliarche, merum diota.

Permitte divis cetera, qui simul

stravere ventos aequore fervido

deproeliantis, nec cupressi

nec veteres agitantur orni.

Quid sit futurum cras fuge quaerere, et

quem Fors dierum cumque dabit lucro

appone, nec dulcis ameres

sperne puer neque tu choreas,

donec virenti canities abest

morosa. Nunc et campus et areae

lenesque sub noctem susurri

composita reqetantur hora,

nunc et latentis proditor intimo

gratus puellae risus ab angulo

pignusque derptum lacertis

aut digito male pertinaci.

You see how high Soracte stands, bright with

snow, and no longer do the straining forests

support the burden, and the rivers have

frozen with sharp frost.

Melt the cold piling logs high upon

the hearth and more generously

draw off the four-winter wine, oh

Thaliarche, from the Sabine jar.

Leave other things to the gods, who

as soon as they calm the winds on the stormy seas

from fighting each other, they agitate neither

the cypress trees nor the old ash trees.

Avoid seeking what is about to be tomorrow, and

assign to profit whatever days Fortune will

give, and scorn neither loves

nor dances, boy,

while your bloom is absent from irritable

white hairs. Now both field and parks

and light whispers repeated under night

at the arranged hour,

and now the pleasing laughter betraying the

hidden girl in the most secret corner

and the pledge seized from the

badly resisting arms with a finger.

Horace, Ode 2.6

Septimi, Gadis aditure mecum et

Cantabrum indoctum iuga ferre nostra et

barbaras Sytris, ubi Maura semper

aestuat unda,

Tibur Argeo positum colono

sit meae sedes utinam senectae,

sit modus lasso maris et viarum

militiaeque.

Unde si Parcae prohibent iniquae,

dulce pellitis ovibus Galaesi

flumen et regnata petam Laconi

rura Phalantho.

Ille terrarum mihi praeter omnis

angulus ridet, ubi non Hymetto

mella decedunt viridique certat

baca Venafro;

ver ubi longum tepidasque praebet

Iuppiter brumas, et amicu Aulon

fertili Baccho minimum Falernis

invidet uvis.

Ille te mecum locus et beatae

postulant arces; ibi tu calentem

debita sparges lacrima favillam

vatis amici.

Septimius, ready to go to Gades with me and

to Cantabrus unlearned to bear our yoke and

the barbaric Syrtis, where the Maura wave

always seethes,

to Tibur founded by an Argive farmer,

would that it be my seat of old age,

would that it be the end to weariness of sea

and of journeys and of war.

Whence if the Fates forbid unfairly,

I will aim for the river of Galaesus

dear to skin-covered sheep and the farms of Laconus

ruled by Phalanthus.

That corner of lands smiles upon me

beyonds all others, where the honeys do not

yield in comparison to Hymettus and the olive

fights with green Venafrum;

where Juppiter offers a long spring and

warm winters, and Aulon friendly to

fertile Bacchus envies as little as possible

the grapes of Falernus.

That place and the blessed hilltops

summon you with me; there you you will scatter

the warm ashes of your friend the poet

with due tears.