| ODES - I.2 | ODES - I.2 |
| Horace (Q. Horatius Flaccus) | trans. Humphrey Clucas |
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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. |
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Transl. Copyright © Humphrey Clucas 2004