Showing posts with label surprise ending. Show all posts
Showing posts with label surprise ending. Show all posts

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Horace, Ode 1.3

Sic te diva potens Cypri,
sic fratres Helenae, lucida sidera,
ventorumque regat pater
obstrictis aliis praeter Iapyga,

navis, quae tibi creditum
debes Vergilium; finibus Atticis
reddas incolumem, precor,
et serves animae dimidium meae.

Illi robur et aes triplex
circa pectus erat, qui fragilem truci
commisit pelago ratem
primus, nec timuit praecipitem Africum

decertantem Aquilonibus
nec tristis Hyadas nec rabiem Noti,
quo non arbiter Hadriae
maior, tollere seu ponere vult freta.

Quem mortis timuit gradum
qui siccis oculis monstra natantia,
qui vidit mare turbidum et
infamis scopulos, Acroceraunia?

Nequiquam deus abscidit
prudens Oceano dissociabili
terras, si tamen impiae
non tangenda rates transiliunt vada.

Audax omnia perpeti
gens humana ruit per vetitum nefas.
Audax Iapeti genus
ignem fraude mala gentibus intulit.

Post ignem aetheria domo
subductum macies et nova befrium
terris incubuit cohors,
semotique prius tarda necessitas

leti corripuit gradum.
Expertus vacuum Daedalus aera
pinnis non homini datis;
perrupit Acheronta Herculeus labor.

Nil mortalibus ardui est;
caelum ipsum petimus stultitia, neque
per nostrum patimur scelus
iracunda Iovem ponere fulmina.


Thus the powerful goddess of Cyprus,
thus the brothers of Helen, bright stars,
and the father of winds guide you,
with others confined except for Iapyx,

ships, which you are keeping Vergil as
a loan to you; may you return him
unharmed to Attic territories, I pray,
and may you guard half of my soul.

Oak and triple copper
was placed around my heart, which first joined
the fragile raft to the wild
sea, neither fears tempestuous Africus

fighting with the north winds
nor the gloomy Hyades nor the rage of Notus,
than whom there is no greater overseer
of the Adriatic, whether he wishes to raise or calm the seas.

What step of death does he fear,
he who saw with dry eyes monsters swimming,
he who saw the wild sea and
infamous rocks, Acroceraunia?

In vain, a prudent god separated
the lands from the incompatible Ocean,
if nevertheless the impious ships
dash across the untouchable depths.

The human race, bold
to suffer all things, rushes to forbidden sins.
The bold son of Iapetus
brought fire to the people by wicked deceit.

After the fire carried off from
it's heavenly home, decay and a new friend of
fever settled on the lands,
and slow fate first quickened the approach

of slow death.
Daedalus tried the empty air with
wings non given to humans;
the labor of Hercules broke through Acheron.

There is nothing steep for mortals;
we attack heaven itself with stupidity, and
we do not suffer for our crime
to put aside angry lightening for Jove.


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 1.7

Laudabunt alii claram Rhodon aut Mytilenen
aut Epheson bimarisve Corinthi
moenia vel Baccho Thebas vel Apolline Delphos
insignis aut Thessala Tempe.

Sunt quibus unum opus est intactae Palladis urbem
carmine perpetuo celebrare et
undique decerptam fronti praeponere olivam;
plurimus in Iuonis honorem

aptum diceet equis Argos ditisque Mycenas:
me nec tam patiens Lacedaemon
nec tam Larisae percussit campus optimae,
quam domus Albuneae resonantis

et praeceps Anio ac Tiburni lucus et uda
mobilibus pomaria rivis.
Albus ut obscuro deterget nubila caelo
saepe Notus neque parturit imbris

perpetuos, sic tu sapiens finire memento
tristitiam vitaeque labores
molli, Plance, mero, seu te fulgentia signis
castra tenent seu densa tenebit

Tiburis umbra tui. Teucer Salamina patremque
cum fugeret, tamen uda Lyaeo
tempora populea fertur vinxisse corona,
sic tristis affatus amicos:

"Quo nos cumque feret melior fortuna parente,
ibimus, o socii comitesque.
Nil desperandum Teucro duce et auspice Teucro;
certus enim promisit Apollo

ambiguam tellure nova Salamina futuram.
O fortes peioraque passi
mecum saepe viri, nunc vino pellite curas;
cras ingens iterabimus aequor.


Others will praise famous Rhodes or Mytilene
or Ephesus or the walls of Corinth between
two seas or Thebes famous for Bacchus or Delphi
famous for Apollo or Thessaly famous for Tempe.

There are those for whom it is one work to celebrate with
perpetual song the city of untouched Athena and
to place in front of their forehead a plucked olive from all sides;
many a one will offer Greek horses and

Mycenean riches suitable for the honor of Juno;
neither so much as hardy Lacedaemon
nor so much as the field of fertile Larisa has struck me
as the house of resonating Albunea

and steep Anio and the sacred grove of the Tibur and
the orchards wet with moving rivers.
White Notus often scatters the clouds from the dim
sky and does not bring forth clouds of perpetual

rain, thus you be wise and remember to finish
the sadness and troubles of life
with mellow wine, Plancus, whether the gleaming camps
represent you with signs or the dense shadow

of your Tibur will hold you. When Teucer fled from Salamina
and his father, nevertheless it is said that he
bound his temples soaked with wine with a poplar crown,
thus he spoke to his sad friends:

"Wherever a fortune better than my father will bear us,
we will go, oh friends and companions.
Do not despair with Teucer as leader and with Teucer as augur;
even sure Apollo promised

that there will be an ambiguous Salamina in a new land.
Oh strong men and men who have
often suffered worse with me, now drive our your cares with wine;
tomorrow we will resume (our voyage on) the vast sea."

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

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.


Horace, Ode 1.17

Velox amoenum saepe Lucretilem
mutat Lycaeo Faunus et igneam
defendit aestatem capellis
usque meis pluviosque ventos.

Impune tutum per nemus arbutos
quaerunt latentis et thyma deviae
olentis uxores mariti,
nec viridis metuunt colubras

nec Martialis haediliae lupos,
utcumque dulci, Tyndari, fistula
valles et Usticae cubantis
levia personuere saxa.

Di me tuentur, dis pietas mea
et Musa cordi est; hinc tibi copia
manabit ad plenum benigno
ruris honorum opulenta cornu.

Hic in reducta valle Caniculae
vitabis aestus, et fide Teia
dices laborantis in uno
Penelopen vitreamque Circen;

hic innocentis pocula Lesbii
duces sub umbra, nec Semeleius
cum Marte confundet Thyoneus
proelia, nec metues protervum

suspecta Cyrum, ne male dispari
incontinentis iniciat manus
et scindat haerentem coronam
crinibus immeritamque vestem.



Swift Faunus often exchanges
pleasant Lucretilus for Lycaeus and
always wards off the summer heat and
rainy winds from my goats.

The wandering wives of smelly husbands
harmlessly search through the safe forest
for the hidden strawberry trees and thyme,
the kids fear neither green serpents

nor Martial wolves,
whenever, Tyndareus, the sloping Ustican valley
and smooth stones have echoed
with the sweet pipe.

The gods watch over me, my piety
is dear to the gods and Muses; here, for you,
a rich plenty will flow to the full
from an abundant horn of the honors of the country.

Here in a valley set back you will avoid
the heat of Canicula , and on a Tean string
you will speak of those in distress for one man,
Penelope and glassy Circes;

here you will slowly drink cups of harmless
Lesbian wine under the shade, neither will
Thyoneus son of Semele pour out battles
with Mars, nor will you being suspected

fear headstrong Cyrus, lest he throws
a violent hand on you badly unequal
and tears the crown sticking to the hairs
and the undeserving garment.