Horace (Q. Horatius Flaccus) trans. Samuel Woodford
Tu ne quaesieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi
finem di dederint, Leuconoë, nec Babylonios
tentaris numeros. ut melius, quidquid erit, pati!
seu plures hiemes seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam,
quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare
Tyrrhenum, sapias, vina liques, et spatio brevi
spem longam reseces. dum loquimur, fugerit invida
aetas: carpe diem quam minimum credula postero.
Ne'er strive, Leoconoe, ne'er strive to know
What Fates decreed for thee and mee, nor goe
To an Astrologer; 'tis half the cure,
When Ill, to think it will not long endure:
Whether Jove will another Winter give,
Or whether 'tis your last that now you live;
Be wise, and since you have not long to stay,
Fool not with tedious hopes your life away.
Time, while we speak on't flyes; now banish sorrow,
Live well to day, and never trust to morrow.

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