ODES - I.2 ODES - I.2
Horace (Q. Horatius Flaccus) trans. Humphrey Clucas
O fons Bandusiae splendidior uitro,
dulci digne mero non sine floribus,
cras donaberis haedo,
cui frons turgida cornibus

primis et uenerem et proelia destinat.
Frustra: nam gelidos inficiet tibi
rubro sanguine riuos
lasciui suboles gregis.

Te flagrantis atrox hora Caniculae
nescit tangere, tu frigus amabile
fessis uomere tauris
praebes et pecori uago.

Fies nobilium tu quoque fontium
me dicente cauis impositam ilicem
saxis, unde loquaces
tymphae desiliunt tuae.
Bandusian fountain, clearer than fine crystal,
Deserving flowers and sweet wine,
A goat is yours tomorrow
Whose budding horns

Tell of the lecher's wars he'll not take part in;
Rather your cold streams shall flow
With his red blood - the prime
Of a lusting flock.

Fierce heat of the dog-star does not touch you;
You offer your cool grace to oxen
Tired from the ploughshare, or
To wandering herds.

You, too, shall be named with famous fountains.
I sing of a holm-oak, a rock-strewn
Hollow where your loquacious
Waters leap.

Click here 2 for another translation of this poem.

Transl. Copyright © Humphrey Clucas 2004

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