Horace: Ode 1.4 Spring Sense (From Latin)

Spring Sense (Ode 1.4)
By Horace
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Hear me read this poem in Latin and in English on Youtube here 

Hard Winter's grip breaks up with the welcome spring and west wind coming, 
 the windlass drags to sea the parched dry keels. 
Cattle no longer care for stables nor ploughmen for the hearth.  
 The frostgrey cap is falling off the fields. 
Venus may well be leading Her dancers beneath a looming moon 
 somewhere. As Nymphs join hands with the svelte Graces 
tapping a lightfooted beat on the earth, hot Vulcan's men machine 
 bolts charged for summer storm in smolten places. 
Now it is time to garland your glossy hair with newgreen myrtle 
 or flowers the unfettered earth now bears,
and go to the shady grove of the woodland god to sacrifice  
 a lamb; or kid. Whichever He prefers.
Revenant ashfaced Death is walking not caring if His heel 
 hits peasant shacks or towers of kings. The fling
of life is short, dear well-heeled Sestius, and rules out betting on futures.   
 Night falls on you and ghosts are gathering
till the humbling walls of the Underhome close in. There you can't play   
 our party drinking games, and can't admire
sexy Lycidas who gets all the lads hotted up today 
 and who tomorrow will fill girls with fire.

The Original:

Solvitur ācris hiems grātā vice vēris et Favōnī
trahuntque siccās māchinae carīnās,
ac neque iam stabulīs gaudet pecus aut arātor ignī
nec prāta cānīs albicant pruīnīs.
Iam Cytherēa chorōs dūcit Venus imminente lūnā
iūnctaeque Nymphīs Grātiae decentēs
alternō terram quatiunt pede, dum gravīs Cyclōpum
Vulcānus ardēns vīsit officīnās.
Nunc decet aut viridī nitidum caput impedīre myrtō
aut flōre, terrae quem ferunt solūtae;
nunc et in umbrōsīs Faunō decet immolāre lūcīs,
seu poscat agnā sīve mālit haedō.
Pallida Mors aequō pulsat pede pauperum tabernās
rēgumque turrīs. Ō beāte Sēstī,
vītae summa brevis spem nōs vetat incohāre longam.
Iam tē premet nox fābulaeque Mānēs
et domus exīlis Plūtōnia; quō simul meāris,
nec rēgna vīnī sortiēre tālīs,
nec tenerum Lycidan mīrābere, quō calet iuventūs
nunc omnis et mox virginēs tepēbunt.

1 comment:

  1. No woman gets an orgasm from shining the kitchen floor. Hey, i am looking for an online sexual partner ;) Click on my boobs if you are interested (. )( .)