from "ECLOGA X"from ECLOGUE 10
Virgil (P. Vergilius Maro)trans. Guy Lee
............
............
Quae nemora aut qui uos saltus habuere, puellae
Naides, indigno cum Gallus amore peribat?
nam neque Parnasi uobis iuga, nam neque Pindi
ulla moram fecere, neque Aonie Aganippe.
ilium etiam lauri, etiam fleuere myricae,
pinifer ilium etiam sola sub rupe iacentem
Maenalus et gelidi fleuerunt saxa Lycaei.
stant et oues circum; nostri nec paenitet illas,
nec te paeniteat pecoris, diuine poeta:
et formosus ouis ad flumina pauit Adonis.
uenit et upilio, tardi uenere subulci,
uuidus hiberna uenit de glande Menalcas.
omnes 'unde amor iste' rogant 'tibi?' uenit Apollo:
'Galle, quid insanis?' inquit. 'tua cura Lycoris
perque niues alium perque horrida castra secuta est.'
uenit et agresti capitis Siluanus honore,
florentis ferulas et grandia lilia quassans.
Pan deus Arcadiae uenit, quem uidimus ipsi
sanguineis ebuli bacis minioque rubentem.
'ecquis erit modus?' inquit. 'Amor non talia curat,
nec lacrimis crudelis Amor nec gramina riuis
nec cytiso saturantur apes nec fronde capellae.'
............
............
............
............
What woodlands or what rides detained you, Naiad maids,
When Gallus pined away of an unworthy love?
For not the summits of Parnassus, for not Pindus'
Delayed your presence, nor Aonian Aganippë.
The laurels even, even the tamarisks wept for him
Lying beneath a lonely cliff; even Maenalus'
Pine-forests wept for him, and cold Lycaeus' rocks.
And the sheep stand around; they think no shame of us,
Nor be you shamed, inspired poet, by the flock:
Lovely Adonis too fed sheep beside a stream.
The shepherd also came, the heavy swineherds came,
Menalcas came, wet through from steeping winter mast.
All ask him 'Whence that love of yours?' Apollo came;
'Gallus, you're mad!' he cried. 'Lycoris your beloved
Pursues another man through snows and horrid camps.'
Silvanus also came, with rustic honour crowned,
Tossing tall lilies on his head and fennel flowers.
Pan came, Arcadia's god, whom we ourselves have seen
Ruddled with elderberry blood and cinnabar.
'When will it end?' he said. 'Love cares not for such things;
You'll never glut cruel Love with tears, nor grass with streams,
Nor worker-bees with clover, nor she-goats with leaves.'
............
............

Copyright © Oxford University Press 1969, Trans. Copyright © Guy Lee 1980, 1984 - publ. Penguin Classics


...buy this book
next
index
translator's next