| ODES - I.22 | IF WHOLE IN LIFE, AND FREE ..............................FROM SIN ... |
| Horace (Q. Horatius Flaccus) | trans. William Ewart Gladstone |
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Integer uitae scelerisque purus non eget Mauris laculis neque arcu nec uenenatis grauida sagittis, Fusce, pharetra, siue per Syrtis iter aestuosas siue facturus per inhospitalem Caucasum uel quae loca fabulosus lambit Hydaspes. Namque me silua lupus in Sabina, dum meam canto Lalagem et ultra terminum curis uagor expeditis, fugit inermem, quale portentum neque militaris Daunias latis alit aesculetis nec Iubae tellus generat, leonum arida nutrix. Pone me pigris ubi nulla campis arbor aestiua recreatur aura, quod latus mundi nebulae malusque Iuppiter urget; pone sub curru nimium propinqui solis in terra domibus negata: dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo, dulce loquentem. |
If whole in life, and free from sin, Man needs no Moorish bow, nor dart, Nor quiver, carrying death within By poison's art. Though frowning Caucasus he treads, And boiling Syrtes hath defied, Been, Fuscus, where Hydaspes spreads His mythic tide. In Sabine woods, and fancy-free, A wolf observed my wandering tread; Unarmed, I sang of Lalage; He saw and fled. Such portent in the oaken grove, Hath martial Daunia never known; Nor Juba's land, where lions rove The thirsty zone. Place me, where desert wastes forbid One tree to breathe the summer wind, Where fogs the land and sea have hid, With Jove unkind. Or, where the sun so near would be, That none to build or dwell may dare; Thy voice, thy smile, my Lalage, I'll love them there. |
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