Odes 4.7 (Horace)

Diffugere nives, redeunt iam gramina campis 
arboribusque comae; 
mutat terra vices et decrescentia ripas 
flumina praetereunt; 

Gratia cum Nymphis geminisque sororibus audet 
ducere nuda choros. 
immortalia ne speres, monet annus et almum 
quae rapit hora diem. 

frigora mitescunt zephyris, ver proterit aestas 
interitura, simul 
pomifer autumnus fruges effuderit, et mox 
bruma recurrit iners. 

damna tamen celeres reparant caelestia lunae; 
nos ubi decidimus, 
quo pius Aeneas, quo Tullus dives et Ancus, 
pulvis et umbra sumus. 

quis scit an adiciant hodiernae crastina summae 
tempora di superi? 
cuncta manus avidas fugient heredis, amico 
quae dederis animo. 

cum semel occideris et de te splendida Minos 
fecerit arbitria, 
non, Torquate, genus, non te facundia, non te 
restituet pietas; 

infernis neque enim tenebris Diana pudicum 
liberat Hippolytum, 
nec Lethaea valet Theseus abrumpere caro 
vincula Pirithoo.


The snows have fled, and now the grass returns
To fields and leaves to trees;
The earth is changing seasons, and the rivers
Flow ebbing past their banks;

The sister Graces and the Nymphs now dare
Naked to lead the dance.
"Hope not to cheat death," warn the year and hour
That steals the kindly day.

 The frosts melt with the west winds, summer drives
The spring away, to die
When fruitful autumn pours its harvest out;
Soon sluggish cold returns.

Yet the swift moons repair their heavenly hurts;
But when we have gone down
Where good Aeneas, Tullus, Ancus are,
We are but dust and shadow.

 Who knows if the gods above will add tomorrow
To the total of your days?
All gifts will slip from your heir's greedy hands
That you gave to your own dear soul.

 When once you die and Minos has declared
His noble judgement on you,
Not birth, nor eloquence, nor faith, Torquatus,
Will ever bring you back.

Diana has not freed from Hades' shades
The chaste Hippolytus,
And Theseus cannot tear the chains of Lethe
From dear Pirithoos.