| ODES - BOOK 4 - V | ODES - BOOK 4 - V |
| Horace (Q. Horatius Flaccus) | tr. W.G.Shepherd |
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Divis orte bonis, optime Romulae custos gentis, abes iam nimium diu; maturum reditum pollicitus patrum sancto concilio, redi. lucem redde tuae, dux bone, patriae: instar veris enim vultus ubi tuus adfulsit populo, gratior it dies et soles melius nitent. ut mater iuvenem, quem Notus invido flatu Carpathii trans maris aequora cunctantem spatio longius annuo dulci distinet a domo, votis ominibusque et precibus vocat, curvo nec faciem litore dimovet: sic desideriis icta fidelibus quaerit patria Caesarem. tutus bos etenim rura perambulat, nutrit rura Ceres almaque Faustitas, pacatum volitant per mare navitae, culpari metuit fides, nullis polluitur casta domus stupris, mos et lex maculosum edomuit nefas, laudantur simili prole puerperae, culpam poena premit comes. quis Parthum paveat, quis gelidum Scythen, quis Germania quos horrida parturit fetus, incolumi Caesare? quis ferae bellum curet Hiberiae? condit quisque diem collibus in suis, et vitem viduas ducit ad arbores; hinc ad vina redit lactus et alteris te mensis adhibet deum; te multa prece, te prosequitur mero defuso pateris et Laribus tuum miscet numen, uti Graecia Castoris et magni memor Herculis. 'longas o utinam, dux bone, ferias praestes Hesperiae!' dicimus integro sicci mane die, dicimus uvidi, cum sol Oceano subest. |
Sprung from the Gods, first guardian of the race of Romulus, already your absence is too long: since you promised the sacred council of the Senate an early return, return. Give back the light, dear leader, to your country: for when, like spring, your face has flashed upon the people, more pleasant runs the day and the sun shines brighter. As with vows, with omens and with prayers a mother calls for more than a year her son whom Notus with jealous bluster detains lingering far from his sweet home across the stretches of Carpathian sea, nor turns her face from the curving bay: so, smitten with loyal love, his fatherland yearns for Caesar. For when he's here the ox in safety roams the pasture and Ceres and kind Prosperity feed the farmland and sailors glide across peaceful seas; good faith fears rightful blame; no lewdness pollutes the chaste home; custom and law cast out spotted sin; mothers are praised for their children's family likeness; punishment presses close behind guilt. Who would fear the Parthians, who the icy Scythian, who the brood that bristling Germany bears, with Caesar unharmed? And who would mind the war with feral Spain? Each man passes the day on his own hillside, marrying his vines to lonely trees; thence he gladly returns to his wine, and at the second course invokes your godhead: he worships you with many prayers and pure wine poured from bowls, and mingles your power with his household Gods, like the Greek who remembers Castor and mighty Alcides. 'Dear leader, grant long holidays to Italy!' we say dry-mouthed at break of day, and say again having drunk when the sun is beneath the ocean. |
Transl. Copyright © W.G.Shepherd 1983 - publ. Penguin Classics
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