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.

Odes 1.5 (Horace)

Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa 
perfusus liquidis urget odoribus 
 grato, Pyrrha, sub antro? 
 cui flavam religas comam, 

simplex munditiis? heu quotiens fidem 
mutatosque deos flebit et aspera 
  nigris aequora ventis 
  emirabitur insolens, 

qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea, 
qui semper vacuam, semper amabilem 
 sperat, nescius aurae 
 fallacis! miseri, quibus 

intemptata nites! me tabula sacer 
votiva paries indicat uvida 
 suspendisse potenti 
 vestimenta maris deo.

Who woos you on a bed of roses?

What slim boy bathed in perfumes, Pyrrha,

In a delightful cave? For whom

Do you bind up your flaxen hair,

Artfully artless? Ah, how often

Will he bewail the faithless gods

And marvel at the seas all harsh

With black winds, unaccustomed sight;

The boy who now so trustingly

Enjoys you, golden, hopes you will

Be ever clear and lovable,

Pays no mind to the fickle breeze!

Unhappy those for whom you shine

Unproved! The sacred wall attests:

A shipwrecked sailor, I hung up

My sodden clothes for the sea-god.

Sonnets to Orpheus I.3 (Rainer Maria Rilke)

Ein Gott vermag's. Wie aber, sag mir, soll
ein Mann ihm folgen durch die schmale Leier?
Sein Sinn ist Zweispalt. An der Kreuzung zweier 
Herzwege steht kein Tempel für Apoll. 
Gesang, wie du ihn lehrst, ist nicht Begehr, 
nicht Werbung um ein endlich noch erreichtes; 
Gesang ist Dasein. Für den Gott ein Leichtes. 
Wann aber sind wir? Und wann wendet er
an unser Sein die Erde und die Sterne?
Dies ists nicht, Jüngling, daß du liebst, wenn auch
die Stimme dann den Mund dir aufstößt,—lerne
vergessen, daß du aufsangst. Das verrinnt.
In Wahrheit singen, ist ein andrer Hauch.
Ein Hauch um nichts. Ein Wehn im Gott. Ein Wind.

A god can do it. But, tell me, how is
a man to follow him through the narrow lyre?
His mind is split in two. Where two heart-paths
are crossed, there stands no temple to Apollo.
Song, as you teach it, is not mere desire,
not wooing something finally attained;
song is existence. For the god, a trifle.
But when do we exist? And when does he
direct the earth and stars upon our being?
It is not that you love, boy, even if
your voice forces your mouth wide open—learn
to unlearn what you sang. That slips away.
True singing is another kind of breath.
A nothing-breath. A gust in God. A wind.

A slight change of pace - Thucydides at Gettsyburg

This isn't precisely in line with my other posts, but I hope it might be interesting to readers nevertheless. Rather than translating a foreign-language poem into English, I've translated an English masterpiece into Greek: Lincoln's Gettysburg Address as a Thucydidean funeral oration. Obviously, some of the concepts in the speech needed to be adapted ("nation" becomes "city-state," for example, and "four score and seven" becomes "four score and eight" in the Greeks' inclusive count of years), and in emulating Thucydides' style I have also borrowed and adapted some of his iconic phrases, so the speech is by no means translated word for word; I've included an English back-translation of my Greek for this reason.

The original text

ὀγδοήκοντα μὲν καὶ ὀκτὼ ἔτη ἐστὶν ἀφ' οὗ οἱ ἡμέτεροι πρόγονοι νέαν τε πόλιν καινήν τε πολιτείαν κατεστήσαντο ἐπὶ ταύτῃ τῇ γῇ, κρίνοντές τε τὸ ἐλεύθερον μέγιστον καὶ ἀξιοῦντες πάντας ἀνθρώπους κατὰ φύσιν ἐξισοῦσθαι. ἐν δὲ τῷ νῦν πολέμῳ πεῖραν ποιούμεθα εἰ οὐ μόνον ἥδε ἡ πόλις, ἣν οἱ πατέρες ἡμῖν μέχρι τοῦδε παρέδοσαν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἡτισοῦν ἐλευθέρα καὶ ἰσόνομος πολιτεία δυνατή ἐστι πολὺν χρόνον ὑπομένειν. μεγάλης δὲ μάχης ἐνθάδε γενομένης ξυνερχόμεθα ἐν τῷδε τῷ πεδίῳ, ὅπως καθιερῶμεν τὸν τάφον τῶν κοινῇ τὰ σώματα ἐπιδόντων· δίκαιον γὰρ τοῖσδε καὶ πρέπον δὲ ἅμα τοιούτῳ τρόπῳ τιμᾶσθαι.
ἡμεῖς δὲ αὐτοὶ οὐχ οἷοί τ' ἐσμὲν οὔτε τιμᾶν οὔτε κοσμεῖν λόγῳ τοῦτον τὸν τάφον, ὃν ἔργῳ ἡ τῶν μαχεσαμένων ἀρετὴ ἤδη ἐς τὰ μάλιστα ἐκόσμησεν· οὐ γὰρ οἱ ἔπειτα μεμνήσονται τῶν ἐνταῦθα λεχθέντων μᾶλλον, ἀλλ᾽ ἡ τῶνδε ἀνδραγαθίας δόξα αἰείμνηστος καταλείψεται. οὓς νῦν ἡμεῖς ζηλώσαντες καρτερῶμεν τε καὶ ἐπιτελῶμεν τὸ ἔργον τὸ ὑπὸ τῶνδε γενναίως ὑπηργμένον· ζῶντες τε γὰρ διδασκόμεθα ὑπὸ τῶν ἀποθανόντων ἐρασταὶ γενέσθαι τῆς πατρίδος, πρὸς ἣν ἔδειξαν εὐσεβέστατοι ὄντες, καὶ ἀξιοῦμεν τούσδε μὴ ἀχρείως τεθνάναι, ἀλλὰ τὸ ταύτης τῆς πόλεως ἐλεύθερον αὖθις κατασταθήσεσθαι καὶ τήν δημοκρατίαν μήποτε ἀπολεῖσθαι.

It is fourscore and eight years since our forebears established a new state and a novel form of government on this earth, judging that freedom is the greatest of all and considering that all men are by nature equal. Now in this war we are testing whether not only this city, which our fathers have handed down to us up to the present time, but any free and fair government can long endure. A great battle has happened here, and we come together on this field in order to consecrate the tomb of those who sacrificed their bodies for the common good, for it is right and fitting too that they be honored in such a way.
But we ourselves cannot honor this tomb, nor adorn it with speech; the virtue of those who fought has already adorned it most highly in deed. For posterity will not remember the things that were said here, but the glory of their bravery will remain eternal in memory. Now, emulating them, let us stand firm and complete the task these men have nobly begun; for we the living learn from the dead to become lovers of the country to which they showed themselves most loyal, and we consider that they did not die in vain, but that the liberty of this city will be established once more and that democracy will never be destroyed.

101 (Catullus)

Multas per gentes et multa per aequora vectus
advenio has miseras, frater, ad inferias,
ut te postremo donarem munere mortis
et mutam nequiquam alloquerer cinerem.
Quandoquidem fortuna mihi tete abstulit ipsum.
Heu miser indigne frater adempte mihi,
nunc tamen interea haec, prisco quae more parentum
tradita sunt tristi munere ad inferias,
accipe fraterno multum manantia fletu,
atque in perpetuum, frater, ave atque vale.

Borne across many lands and many seas,
I come to your pyre alone,
Brother, to give you death’s last gift, and speak
To silent ash and bone.
For fate has taken you away unjustly,
Poor brother, lost to me!
Yet since it is the custom of our fathers
To make this obsequy,
Let me do my sad duty to your grave;
Accept these gifts that I
Wash with a brother’s tears; and then forever
Hail, brother, and—goodbye.

16 (Catullus)

Put under a cut for obscenity. Catullus was very...effective with his invective.

Medea, Third Choral Ode "The Fates of the Argonauts" (Seneca)

nulla vis flammae tumidive venti
tanta, nec teli metuenda torti,
quanta cum coniunx viduata taedis
ardet et odit;
non ubi hibernos nebulosus imbres
Auster advexit properatque torrens
Hister et iunctos vetat esse pontes
ac vagus errat;
non ubi impellit Rhodanus profundum,
aut ubi in rivos nivibus solutis
sole iam forti medioque vere
tabuit Haemus.
caecus est ignis stimulatus ira
nec regi curat patiturve frenos
aut timet mortem: cupit ire in ipsos
obvius enses.
parcite, o divi, veniam precamur,
vivat ut tutus mare qui subegit.
sed furit vinci dominus profundi
regna secunda.
ausus aeternos agitare currus
immemor metae iuvenis paternae
quos polo sparsit furiosus ignes
ipse recepit.
constitit nulli via nota magno:
vade qua tutum populo priori,
rumpe nec sacro violente sancta
foedera mundi.
quisquis audacis tetigit carinae
nobiles remos nemorisque sacri
Pelion densa spoliavit umbra,
quisquis intravit scopulos vagantes
et tot emensus pelagi labores
barbara funem religavit ora
raptor externi rediturus auri,
exitu diro temerata ponti
iura piavit.
exigit poenas mare provocatum:
Tiphys in primis, domitor profundi,
liquit indocto regimen magistro;
litore externo, procul a paternis
occidens regnis tumuloque vili
tectus ignotas iacet inter umbras.
aulis amissi memor inde regis
portibus lentis retinet carinas
stare querentes.
ille vocali genitus Camena,
cuius ad chordas modulante plectro
restitit torrens, siluere venti,
cum suo cantu volucris relicto
adfuit tota comitante silva,
Thracios sparsus iacuit per agros,
at caput tristi fluitavit Hebro:
contigit notam Styga Tartarumque,
non rediturus.
stravit Alcides Aquilone natos,
patre Neptuno genitum necavit
sumere innumeras solitum figuras:
ipse post terrae pelagique pacem,
post feri Ditis patefacta regna
vivus ardenti recubans in Oeta
praebuit saevis sua membra flammis
tabe consumptus gemini cruoris,
munere nuptae.
stravit Ancaeum violentus ictu
saetiger; fratrem, Meleagre, matris
impius mactas morerisque dextra
matris iratae: meruere cuncti
morte quod crimen tener expiavit
Herculi magno puer inrepertus,
raptus, heu, tutas puer inter undas.
ite nunc, fortes, perarate pontum
fonte timendo.
Idmonem, quamvis bene fata nosset,
condidit serpens Libycis harenis;
omnibus verax, sibi falsus uni
concidit Mopsus caruitque Thebis.
ille si vere cecinit futura,
exul errabit Thetidis maritus;
fulmine et ponto moriens Oileus
*pro suo gnatus* patrioque pendet
crimine poenas.

igne fallaci nociturus Argis

Nauplius praeceps cadet in profundum;
coniugis fatum redimens Pheraei
uxor impendes animam marito.
ipse qui praedam spoliumque iussit
aureum prima revehi carina
[ustus accenso Pelias aeno]
arsit angustas vagus inter undas.
iam satis, divi, mare vindicastis:
parcite iusso.

No force of flame or swelling wind,
Nor brandished spear, is half as great
As a wife of wedding-torches robbed
Who burns with hate;

Nor when the cloudy South Wind brings
The winter rains, and Hister roars
In wandering torrents, bursts each bridge
That spans its shores;

Nor when the Rhone strikes at the deep,
Nor when with streams of melting snows,
As the sun is strong at height of spring,
The Haemus flows.

Blind is the fire that anger feeds:
It brooks no rule, the bridle spurns,
And fears not death; to rush at swords
Headlong it burns.

Spare and forgive, ye gods, we pray;
May he who tamed the sea live on.
But the wrath of the lord of the deep is roused—
The next realm's won.

When the boy dared play the charioteer,
Unmindful of his father's track,
The fires he flung across the sky
Himself did rack.

The well-known path has no great cost;
The past's safe ways be the ways for thee,
And do not break the sacred bond
Of Earth's decree.

Whoever touched the noble oars
Of that bold ship, and the thick shade
Of sacred woods from Pelion stripped,
And into the Rocks that Wander strayed,
And strove so greatly on the sea,
And anchored on barbarian shores
To seize their gold and homeward bend,
Paid for the ocean's outraged laws
With dreadful end.

The sea, once roused, exacts her toll:
First Tiphys, whom the deep obeyed,
Left his helm to untaught hands,
And far from his father's realm is laid;
His bones rest in a humble tomb
'Mid unknown shades on a foreign strand,
And Aulis mourns its absent lord,
And its complaining ships must stand
In harbor moored.

The musical Camena's son—
Whose chords, when plectrum touched his string,
Made torrents pause and winds fall mute,
Made the songbird cease to sing
And draw near, the whole wood behind—
On Thracian fields his corpse they strew,
His head floats down sad Hebrus river
To the Styx and Tartarus he knew,
To dwell for ever.

Alcides slew Aquilo's sons,
And him of Neptune's getting, who
Assumed innumerable shapes;
But after bringing concord to
The land and sea, and opening
The realms of Dis, he, lying doomed
On burning Oeta, gave up life
And limbs, by twofold gore consumed,
Gift of his wife.

The fierce boar struck Ancaeus down;
Disloyal Meleager, you,
Slaughtering mother's brother, die
By mother's hand. They earned it, true,
But what sin did the boy's death pay
Whom mighty Hercules sought in vain,
Seized in the shallows, wretched waif?
Go, brave hearts, plough the watery main—
A spring's not safe.

Idmon, though well he knew the fates,
A snake entombed in Libyan sand;
Prophet for all but self alone
Died Mopsus, far from Theban land.
If he has sung the future true,
Then Thetis' mate will exiled stray;
By thunderbolt and ocean slain,
Oelius' son for his crime will pay
And his sire's stain.

With false fire seeking Argos' harm,
Into the deep will Nauplius fall;
For your Pheraean spouse's fate,
Wife, you'll trade away your soul.
The man who bade the first ship bring
The golden spoils, 'neath cauldron lid
Was roasted, in its trapped waves rolled.
The sea's avenged; spare him who did
As he was told.