| ODES - II.3 | AN EQUAL MIND ... |
| Horace (Q. Horatius Flaccus) | trans. John Conington |
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Aequam memento rebus in arduis seruare mentem, non secus in bonis ab insolentia temperatam laetitia, moriture Delli, seu maestus omni tempore uixeris, seu te in remoto gramine per dies festos reclinatum bearis interiore nota Falerni. Quo pinus ingens albaque populus umbram hospitalem consociare amant ramis? Quid obliquo laborat lympha fugax trepidare riuo? Huc uina et unguenta et nimium breuis flores amoenae ferre iube rosae, dum res et aetas et sororum fila trium patiuntur atra. Cedes coemptis saltibus et domo uillaque flauus quam Tiberis lauit, cedes et exstructis in altum diuitiis potietur heres. Diuesne prisco natus ab Inacho nil interest an pauper et infima de gente sub diuo moreris, uictima nil miserantis Orci. Omnes eodem cogimur, omnium uersata urna serius ocius sors exitura et nos in aeternum exsilium impositura cumbae. |
An equal mind, when storms o'ercloud, Maintain, nor 'neath a brighter sky Let pleasure make your heart too proud, O Dellius, Dellius! sure to die, Whether in gloom you spend each year, Or through long holydays at ease In grassy nook your spirit cheer With old Falernian vintages, Where poplar pale, and pine-tree high Their hospitable shadows spread Entwined, and panting waters try To hurry down their zigzag bed. Bring wine and scents, and roses' bloom, Too brief, alas! to that sweet place, While life, and fortune, and the loom Of the Three Sisters yield you grace. Soon must you leave the woods you buy, Your villa, wash'd by Tiber's flow, Leave, - and your treasures, heap'd so high, Your reckless heir will level low. Whether from Argos' founder born In wealth you lived beneath the sun, Or nursed in beggary and scorn, You fall to Death, who pities none. One way all travel; the dark urn Shakes each man's lot, that soon or late Will force him, hopeless of return, On board the exile-ship of Fate. |
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