The Fruits of Peace :: Phoebus Volentem Proelia :: IV:15

This ode is the appropriate epilogue to the Fourth Book,of which the poems that celebrate the Roman victories under Drusus and Tiberius constitute the noblest portion. If it be true that the book was published on account of these odes, and at the desire of Augustus, Horace would naturally conclude by a special reference to the beneficial issues of the wars undertaken by Augustus, and from the final completion of which in Gaul, Germany, and Spain, he had just returned to Rome. Horace here begins by saying, that when he wished to sing of those wars Phoebus checked him. But Phoebus does not forbid him to sing the triumphs of peace; and, with a lively lyrical abruptness, he therefore at once bursts forth: — “Tua, Caesar aetas Fruges et agris . . . ”

Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 104, August 1868 

The foregoing unauthored article from Blackwood’s says it all. Even so, I am now going to make a mountain out of a mole hill. 

Nowhere have I seen a discussion about the last five lines. Everyone seems to understand them, but I don’t. Does duces in line 29

virtute functos more patrum duces 

leaders by manliness exhibited 

in the fashion of [our] fathers

refer to nos ‘us’ [line 25], making us the leaders who exhibit manliness like our fathers?

Or is duces an object of apprecati [line 28], meaning we worship not only the gods but also the leaders?

Or is duces an object of canemus [line 32], meaning that we sing of the leaders as well as of Troy, Anchises and Venus?

There are problems with each of these possibilities. It is doubtful that Horace thinks of himself as a leader. I haven’t seen him act so bold, although he comes across as one who knows best for his people, a kind of poet-prophet. The second possibility has merit, but editors put a comma after apprecati, thus making it unlikely that we worship the leaders as well as the gods. The third possibility works until we realize that it is far removed form the verb canemus. In my translation, I am going to leave the ambiguity. 

notes:

The Tyrrhenian Sea is off the western coast of Italy.

The Tanais is the River Don in Russia.

Anchises was a Trojan and Venus’ mortal lover. It was he whom Aeneas carried on his shoulders out of the burning city of Troy.

The Getae are a Tracian tribe living on the Danube in what is modern Rumania.

The Julian Edicts were August Caesar’s laws and policies, which helped enforce pax Romana. 

The Ianus Quirinus was a temple or arch that was closed when there were no on-going wars. The Ianus Quirinus was closed only five times in Roman history, three of which occured during Augustus Caesar’s reign.

translation:

Apollo, when I wanted to speak of 

battles and cities won, sounded his lyre 

that I not set my little sail to cross

the Tuscan Sea. Your era, O Caesar,

has brought back fruitful and abundant fields, 

has restored to our god insignia 

ripped from the arrogant doorways of the 

Persians, has closed the Quirini Temple

now empty of war and has seized the reins

of correct order because of errant 

lawlessness and driven away misdeeds

and invited back the veteran arts 

by which the name of Latinum and the 

strength and fame of Italy have grown with 

the majesty of the empire stretching 

to the rising sun from its western bed.

With Caesar custodian of the State, 

civil anger and strife will not drive off 

repose, and ire, which pounds out swords, 

won’t make enemies of wretched cities.

Those who drink the deep Danube will not break 

the Julian Edicts, not the Getae, 

the Chinese or the faithless Persians, not  

those arising around the River Don. 

And we these days both profane and sacred, 

amidst the gifts of joyous Bacchus, with 

our children and our wives, first worshipping  

the gods according to what is custom, 

leaders showing manliness as did our 

fathers, by the Lydian flutes mixed with 

song, sing of Troy and Anchises and of 

the progeny of bountiful Venus. 

translation © 2010 by James Rumford

commentarii: http://www.horatius.ru/index.xps?2.1.415

in prose:

Phoebus, ‹me volentem proelia et urbes victas loqui,› lyra increpuit, ne per aequor Tyrrhenum vela parva darem. 

[O] Caesar, aetas tua ‹et fruges uberes [ex] agris› rettulit ‹et signa postibus superbis Parthorum derepta Iovi nostro› restituit ‹et ianum Quirini duellis vacuum› clausit et ‹frena licentiae ordinem rectum evaganti› iniecit, ‹culpasque emovit et artes veteres› revocavit, ‹per quas nomen Latinum et vires famaque Italae crever[unt] et maiestas imperi ad ortus solis ab Hesperio cubili porrecta [sunt]›. 

Caesare rerum custode, furor civilis aut vis otium non exiget, et ira, quae enses procudit, urbes miseras non inimicat. [Is] qui Danuvium profundum bibunt edicta Iulia non rumpent, non Getae, non Seres Persaeque infidive, non prope flumen Tanain orti. Nosque et lucibus profestis et sacris inter munera Liberi iocosi cum prole matronisque nostris, prius deos rite apprecati, more patrum duces virtue functos, carmine tibiis Lydis remixto, Troiamque et Anchisen et progeniem Veneris almae canemus.          [revised March 28, 2015]

original ode:

Phoebus volentem proelia mē loquī

victās et urbıs increpuit lyrā,

   nē parva Tyrrhēnum per aequor

       vēla darem. tua Caesar, aetās

frūgēs et agrīs rettulit ūberēs

et signa nostrō restituit Iovī

   dērepta Parthōrum superbīs

       postibus et vacuum duellīs

Iānum Quirīnī clausit et ordinem

rectum ēvagantī frēna licentiae

   iniēcit ēmōvitque culpās

       et veterēs revocāvit artıs

per quās Latīnum nōmen et ītalae

crevēre vīrēs fāmaque et imperī

   porrecta māiestās ad ortus

       sōlis ab Hesperiō cubīlī.

custōde rērum Caesare nōn furor

cīvīlis aut vīs exiget ōtium,

   nōn īra, quae prōcūdit ensıs

       et mīserās inimīcat urbıs.

nōn quī profundum Dānuvium bibunt

ēdicta rumpent Iūlia, nōn Getae,

   nōn Sēres infīdīve Persae,

       nōn Tanaīn prope flūmen ortī.

nōsque et profestīs lūcibus et sǎcrīs

inter iocōsī mūnera Līberī

   cum prōle mātrōnīsque nostrīs

       rīte deōs prius apprecātī,

virtūte functōs mōre pǎtrum ducēs

Lȳdīs remixtō carmine tībiīs

   Trōiamque et Anchīsen et almae

        prōgeniem Veneris canēmus.

:: Latin books by James Rumford ::

For all 102 odes purchase Carpe Diem, Horace De-Poetized, for $11.50 at 

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For a Latin translation of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer at $12, click here: 

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To find out more about Carpe Diem go to the blog of March 26, 2015; 

for more about Pericla Thomae Sawyer, go to the blog of November 22, 2016.

Oy Ve! :: Ne Forte Credas :: IV:9

Quoi qu’un Poète de Cour ne fasse guere conscience de donner aux gens les éloges dont ils sont reconnus indignes, il faut croire qu’Horace se régle ici sur les apparences, c’est-à-dire, qu’il proportionne ses éloges à l’estime où celui qu’il loue étoit alors; car nous apprenons d’un célèbre Historien que ce Lollius cachoit admirablement ses mauvaises qualitez. —Bayle, Pierre. Dictionnaire Historique et Critique, 1740.

Some say this ode was written to Marcus Lollius Paulinus, a general, a consul of 21 BC, who fell from grace. He was accused of exortion and treachery to the state. He took poison. Because of this, others say this ode is addressed to Lollius’ son,  Lollius, Jr. But I don’t buy the son angle. This ode is about Lollius, Sr., the general, the extortionist, the traitor.

Maybe Horace was friends with Lollius. Maybe, because Caesar Augustus found Lollius ‘favorable,’ Horace did, too. But when this poem was written, say the year 13 BC, Lollius had already suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of the Germans, which came to be known as the clades lolliana ‘the slaughter of Lollius,’ which took place in 16 BC. Other aspects of Lollius’ less than exemplary character were also starting to surface at the time this poem was written. Some knew what Lollius was up to. Maybe Horace did as well.

In my last blog, I mentioned that poets are sly with words. Words are their weapons either for defense or attack. Poets are never direct; at least, the good ones are not. Out of their pens purposely come slippery words, eels of meaning that defy capture.

Perhaps, in this ode, Horace is praising Lollius as well as condemning him.

Lines 1-4 are in praise of Horace’s own poetic prowess.

The next 24 lines are about how poetry trumps time and how, without the poet’s voice, we can only assume that before Agamemnon, there were other heros whose deeds were worthy of poems of praise but alas, they have perished inlacrimabiles, unmourned.

Now at line 29, we arrive at the crux of the poem, I think.

Paulum sepultae distat 

inertiae celata virtus.

Little separates hidden virtue 

from buried inertia. 

What ‘inertia’ means is hard to discern: unskillfulness, laziness, inactivity, ignorance. Obviously, inertia is the opposite of virtus: manliness and all that goes with being full of testosterone. Since this is the highest good, virtus, by extension is power, goodness, courage, fortitude, and moral perfection. 

Perhaps the line means something like:

Little separates hidden manliness 

from cowardice buried.

Once you’re gone, and there is no one to tell your tale, who knows what kind of person you were? So Horace steps in to say that he will tell the tale. But he does so in a way that leaves the reader doubting what he is up to.

non ego te meis chartis inornatum silebo, 

totve tuos patiar labores impune, 

Lolli, carpere lividas obliviones. [lines 30–34]

I won’t be silent about unornamented you 

in my pages, or I won’t let, Lollius, 

black oblivion snatch away 

your labors with impunity.

I suppose the real meaning depended on the intonation Horace used in reciting this ode, just as the phrase, ‘I won’t let anyone ever forget what you did’ could be used to thank a person for his kindness or threaten him with exposure.

But clever Horace goes on in lines 34–44 to praise Lollius by talking about his prudence and rectitude, even putting a good spin on his defeat:

per obstantis catervas 

explicuit sua victor arma

by the opposing troops 

the victor laid out his weapons

What were ‘his weapons’?  His virtue and honesty? But these will be defeated as well by Lollius’ own hypocrisy, just as his armies were defeated in Germany. 

Now Lollius was also one of the richest men of Rome. He had amassed an enormous fortune; so, are lines 45–49 a rebuke, or are they the usual Horace praising his own simple life?

Then comes a surprising statement in the last few lines:

leto flagitium timet, non ille pro 

caris amicis aut patria timidus perire

he [who has little] fears disgrace to death; 

he [is] unafraid to perish 

for his dear friends and his country.

Now Horace died in 8 BC. Lollius commited suicide in 2 AD. What was Horace suggesting? Surely the double meaning was not lost. What did Lollius think? Was Horace merely mentioning some platitude about honor and death or was he suggesting a way out of the calumnies whispered behind Caesar Augustus’ back? We will never know.

What we do know is that this poem is brilliantly nuanced and brilliantly constructed, as Horace balances his “praise” for Lollius on the repeated use of ve ‘or.’ Ve seems to add to the uncertainty of meaning in the poem. Then there is the last word perire, ‘perish.’ Not only does it hang ominously at the end of the ode, but it brings us back to the beginning and the dominant word of the first line: interitura ‘about to perish.’ Thus oblivion swirls throughout this poem, menacing us all. There is no way to stave off the inevitable save through the poet’s pen, and even that pillar of Horace’s thought has all but crumbled to dust.  

notes:

Horace was from a region in Italy where the Aufidus [Ofanto] River flows; Homer was from Maeonia. The Greek lyric poets mentioned are Pindar [c522–443 BC] and Simonides [c556–468 BC], born in Ceos, one of the Cyclades Islands, Alcaeus [c620–6th century BC], Stesichorus [c640–555 BC], and Anacreon 9570–488 BC]. Aeolia refers to, among other things, Lesbos, where Sappho [c620–670BC] was born. I directly transfered the Latin expression altus voltus, ‘high face’ into English, thinking that its sense is clear. Teucer was a Greek hero and remarkable archer. Even so, at one point in the Trojan War, every arrow he shot at Hector was foiled by Hector’s protector, Apollo.  Idomeneus was a Cretan warrior and suiter of Helen. Sthenelus was one of the men who hid in the Trojan Horse. Deiphobus was a Trojan prince and Hector’s brother.

translation:

Do not think they will perish, these words I, 

born by the far-sounding Ofanto, speak—

words not mated before by the known arts 

to lyric strings.

Even if Homer of Maeonia 
ranks first, the muses aren't hiding Pindar or 

Ceos, threatening Alcaeus, dignifying

Stesichorus.

No, if time destroys what Anacreon 

once played, there still breathes the love and lives the 

passions entrusted to the maiden with 

the Aeolian lyre. 

Helen of Lacaena's not the only 
one to burn for her lover's well-groomed hair,
amazed by his gold-smeared clothes, his pomp 
and royal friends.

And Teucer—not the first to shoot arrows 

from a Cyprian bow. Troy—not sacked once. 

Nor did great Idomeneus or lone 

Sthenelus fight 

a fight worthy of a Muse’s song, nor was 

fierce Hector or bitter Deiphobus 

the first to receive mortal blows for their sons 

and chaste wives.

There lived strong ones before Agamemnon—

many, but all are assailed by the 

long night, unmourned, unknown, for they have no

sacred poet.

Little separates hidden virtue from 

buried cowardess. I shall not keep still 

about you, uncelebrated in my papers, 

nor will I let 

dark oblivion, Lollius, just pluck 

off your many deeds. You have a mind skilled 

in things of the state, upright, whether in 

good times or bad. 

Avenger of the crimes of the greedy, 

declining to amass personal wealth,

consul not for one year, but how often 

a good and trusting

judge who puts the honest man before the 

useful, rejects with a high face the gifts of the guilty,

and displays his arms, victor, before the 

opposing troops. 

You’d be right to call a man who doesn’t 

have much ‘blessed’; he more rightly takes the name 

'blessed one' who wisely knows how to use the 

gifts of the gods 

and who’s been toughened up by suffering 

hard poverty, who fears disgrace worse than 

death, who is not afraid to die for dear

friends and country.

translation © 2010 by James Rumford

in prose:

Ne forte credas verba, quae ‹ad Aufidum longe sonantem natus› loquor interitura, [verba] chordis socianda per ‹artes non ante vulgatas›. 

Si Homerus Maeonius sedes priores tenet, Camenae Pindaricae Ceaeque et [Camenae] minaces Alcaei [Camenae]ve graves Stesichori non latent, nec si aetas delevit quid olim Anacreon lusit. Amor adhuc spirat, vivuntque ‹calores fidibus commissi› puellae Aeoliae. 

Non sola Helene Lacaena crines comptos adulteri arsit et aurum [in] vestibus illitum cultusque regal[e]s et comites mirata [est]. 

[Non] Teucerve primus tela arcu Cydonio direxit. 

Non semel Ilios vexata [est]. 

Non Idomeneus ingens Sthenelusve solus proelia [a] musis dicenda pugnavit. 

Non Hector ferox vel Deiphobus acer ictus graves primus pro coniugibus pudicis puerisque excepit. Ante Agamemnona multi fortes vixer[unt]; sed omnes illacrimabiles ignotique nocte longa urgentur, quia vate sacro carent. 

Virtus celata inertiae sepultae paullum distat. 

Non ego ‹te inornatum› chartis meis silebo, totve labores tuos impune, [o] Lolli, obliviones lividas carpere patiar. 

Animus prudens tibi est. Rerumque et temporibus secundis dubiisque rectus [es]. Vindex avarae fraudis [es] et ‹pecuniae ad se cuncta ducentis› abstinens. Consulque non unius anni sed
quotiens [es]. 

[Lollius], iudex ‹bonus atque fidus› honestum utili praetulit. Vultu alto dona nocentium reiecit. Victor per catervas obstantes arma sua explicuit. 

[Tu hominem] beatum multa non possidentem recte vocaveris. Nomen beati rectius occupat [eum] qui sapienter muneribus deorum uti. Calletque pauperiem duram pati. Flagitiumque leto peius timet. Non ille timidus pro amicis caris aut patria perire. [revised March 28, 2015]

http://www.accessmylibrary.com/article-1G1-16018243/vatic-admonition-horace-odes.html

original ode:

Nē forte crēdās interitūra quae

longē sonantem nātus ad Aufidum

   nōn ante vulgātās per artıs

       verba loquor socianda chordīs:

nōn, sī priōrēs Maeonius tenet

sēdēs Homērus, Pindaricae latent

   Cēaeque et Alcaeī minācēs

        Stēsichorīve gravēs Camēnae;

nec sī quid ōlim lūsit Anācreōn,

dēlēvit aetās; spīrat adhuc amor

   vīvuntque commissī calōrēs

       Aeoliae fīdibus puellae.

nōn sōla comptōs arsit adulterī

crīnıs et aurum vestibus illitum

   mīrāta rēgālısque cultūs

       et comitēs Helenē Lacaena

prīmusve Teucer tēla Cydōniō

dīrexit arcū; nōn semel īliōs

   vexāta; nōn pugnāvit ingēns

       īdomenēus Sthenelusve sōlus

dīcenda Mūsīs proelia; nōn ferox

Hector vel ācer Dēiphobus gravıs

   excepit ictus prō pudīcīs

       coniugibus puerīsque prīmus.

vixēre fortēs ante Agamemnona

multī; sed omnēs illacrimābilesve~

   urgentur ignōtīque longā

       nocte, carent quia vāte sācrō.

paulum sepultae distat inertiae

cēlāta virtus. nōn ego tē meīs

   chartīs inornātum silēbō

       tōtve tuōs patiar labōrēs

impūne, Lollī, carpere līvidās

oblīviōnēs. est animus tibi

   rērumque prūdēns et secundīs

       temporibus dubiīsque rectus,

vindex avārae fraudis et abstinēns

dūcentis ad sē cuncta pecūniae,

   consulque nōn ūnīus annī,

        sed quotiēns bonus atque fīdus

iūdex honestum praetulit ūtilī,

reiēcit altō dōna nocentium

   vultū, per obstantıs catervās

       explicuit sua victor arma.

nōn possidentem multa vocāveris

rectē beātum; rectius occupat

   nōmen beātī, quī deōrum

        mūneribus sapienter ūtī

dūramque callet pauperiem patī

pēiusque lētō flāgitium timet,

   nōn ille prō cārīs amīcīs

       aut patriā timidus perīre.

:: Latin books by James Rumford ::

For all 102 odes purchase Carpe Diem, Horace De-Poetized, for $11.50 at 

https://www.amazon.com/Carpe-Diem-Poetized-James-Rumford/dp/1891839179/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1479932219&sr=8-1&keywords=Carpe+Diem+Rumford. 

For a Latin translation of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer at $12, click here: 

https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Pericla+Thomae+Sawyer

To find out more about Carpe Diem go to the blog of March 26, 2015; 

for more about Pericla Thomae Sawyer, go to the blog of November 22, 2016.

The Roar of Poetry :: Divis Orte Bonis :: IV:5

دیـدیـم شـعـر دلـکـش حافظ به مدح شاه 

یک بیت از آن صفینه به از صد رساله بود

I saw a heart-pulling poem by Hafiz in praise of the shah

One line from that divan—better than a hundred books

It is hard to imagine the Sufi poet holding out his ink-stained hand for a crust of bread from his sultan, but he did so time and time again. Poets gotta eat. Simple as that. 

Today, poets don’t write praise poetry anymore. Unsullied by thoughts of money, eschewing the laurels of the state, they busy themselves instead with the human condition. Thus, they write verities that few read or care about. Thus, they have reduced the function of poetry to echo but the squeaks and sighs of those who send us news from the frontiers of reality. Not so in centuries past. Poetry was the roaring voice of the state and the chronicler of the nation’s deeds. And the people listened—to Homer’s account of the Trojan War, of Virgil’s take on the founding of Rome, of Fedowsi’s history of the Iranian state. In this context, it is only natural that there were poems of praise. What better way to advertise the prowess of the emperor than through the mouth of the poet? 

But I suspect that poems of praise are not always what they seem to be. Poets are clever and sly with words. What looks like praise may in fact be just a glittering outer garment, a covering for the real meaning deep inside. In the line above, Hafiz, after having praised the sultan, decides to praise himself.

In today’s ode, Horace, while praising Caesar Augustus, who is away fighting for the empire during the years 16 to 13 BC, is using this opportunity to extol the virtues of the simple life, the joy of living in one’s own hills, tending one’s own vinyards, drinking one’s own wine. Horace starts off in grand style comparing Caesar Augustus to the sun, but he also ends with sun. This time it is the setting sun. The day is done. The toiling farmer lays down his tools and takes up the drinking cup, living out his life in peace. Surely, this makes all of the imperial campaigns worth the treasure spent and the blood spilled.

*   *   *   *

There is in this ode a very interesting line [20]:

culpari metuit fides

to be blamed fears faith

Many translators have struggled with this line, for what can this mean?  How could faith be blamed for anything?  The key to understanding this, comes from Niall Rudd’s translation done for the Loeb Series. As a footnote, he writes, “A reference to the Julian law against adultery (18 B.C.).” Thus, in some very tangled way [at least in my mind], one remains faithful because one is afraid of being found guilty of adultery. Once this is understood, many other lines fall into place: the chaste house [line 21], the homeland struck by fidelity [line 15], the waiting mother [lines 9–14], and the offspring who look like their fathers [line 23]. Soon we see an ethical perpetual motion machine that Horace has constructed: fidelity to the laws and values brings chastity and chastity means fidelity, and fidelity means obeying the laws, and so on ad infinitum. 

notes: 

Castor, of Castor and Pollux, was the twin who was not a god, unlike his brother; nevertheless, the Greeks raised both Castor and Hercules to godlike status, much as Horace is suggesting the Romans do with Caesar Augustus. Notus is the south wind. The sea around the island of Karpathos in the eastern Mediterranean was called the Carpathian Sea. Ceres is the Roman goddess of grain, commonly associated with the Greek Demeter. Faustitas is a personification of Favor, from the adjective faustus (lucky, auspicious). Hesperia is the west and, to the Greeks, Italy.

  

translation:

You from good gods risen, best guardian of 

the Roman race, you’ve now been gone so long! 

You promised the sacred Senate a quick 

return. Come back!

Good leader, give your homeland back the light.

When your face flashes upon the people

as in spring, the day goes happily by, 

suns shine better.

Like a mother not moving her eyes from 

the curving seashore, calling with vows and

omens and prayers her boy, whom the south wind

by jealous gusts

takes far from his sweet home to be waylaid 

overseas in Karpathos—thus our nation, 

struck by a faithful longing, watches for 

the emperor. 

The cattle safely roam the countryside. 

Kind Ceres and Faustitas nourish us.

Sailors sail on peaceful seas. Constancy

fears being blamed.

The chaste house: unsullied with lust. Spotted

sin: tamed by mores and laws. Mothers: praised 

for their like offspring. The guilty: hounded 

by punishment.

Who fears the Parthians, the frozen Scyths,

horrid Germans breeding, with Caesar 

alive? Who worries about war with the 

wild Spaniards? 

The one who ends the day in his hills and 

leads vines to widowed trees; there to his wines 

he returns glad and invites you a god 

for food and drink;

you, by many prayers, he toasts with wine in 

cups and joins your numen to the house gods, 

as Greece did in memory of Castor, 

of great Hercules.

“May you grant Hesperia, good leader,  

long holidays!” we say, thirsty the whole 

day through—we say, juiced up, as the sun slips 

beneath the sea.

translation © 2010 by James Rumford

 in prose:

[O ab] divis bonis orte, [o] optime custos gentis Romulae, iam nimium diu abes. Pollictus [es] reditum maturum concilio sancto patrum. Redi, [o] dux bone. Lucem patriae tuae redde. Ubi enim vultus tuus, instar veris, populo adfulsit, dies gratior it, et soles melius nitent. 

Ut mater [quae vocat] iuvenem, quem Notus [a] flatu invido trans aequora maris Carpathii a domo dulci distinet, spatio annuo longius cunctantem, [mater] votis ominibusque et precibus vocat nec faciem [a] litore curvo dimovet. Sic patria, desideriis fidelibus icta, Caesarem quaerit. 

Bos tutus etenim rura perambulat. Ceresque Faustitas alma nutrit, navitae per mare pacatum volitant. Fides culpari metuit. Domus casta nullis stupris poluitur. Mos et lex nefas maculosum edomuit. Puerperae prole simili laudantur. ‹Poena comes› culpam premit. 

Quis Parthum paveat? Quis Scythen gelidum [paveat]? Quis [paveat] fetus quos Germania horrida parturit, incolumi Caesare? Quis bellum Hiberiae curet? 

Quisque diem in collibus suis condit et vitem ad arbores viduas ducit. Hinc ad vina laetus redit et, mensis alteris, te deum adhibet. Te, multa prece, te, mero [a] pateris defuso, prosequitur et numen tuum Laribus miscet, uti Graecia ‹Castoris et Herculis magni› memor. 

“O dux bone, utinam ferias longas Hesperiae prestes!” 

Mane, die integro, [nos] sicci [hoc] dicimus. Cum sol Oceano subest [nos] uvidi [hoc] dicimus. 

  [revised March 28, 2015]

original ode:

Dīvīs orte bonīs, optime Rōmulae

custos gentis, abēs iam nimium diū;

mātūrum reditum pollicitus patrum

   sanctō conciliō redī.

lūcem redde tuae, dux bone, patriae;

instar vēris enim vultus ubī tuus

adfulsit populō, grātior it diēs

   et sōlēs melius nitent.

ut māter iuvenem, quem Notus invidō

flātū Carpǎthiī trans maris aequora

cunctantem spatiō longius annuō

   dulcī distinet ā domō,

vōtīs ominibusque et precibus vocat,

curvō nec faciem lītore dīmovet,

sīc dēsīderiīs icta fidēlibus

   quaerit pātria Caesarem.

tūtus bōs etenim rūra perambulat,

nūtrit rūra Cerēs almaque Faustitās,

pācātum volitant per mare nāvitae,

   culpārī metuit fidēs,

nūllīs polluitur casta domus stuprīs,

mōs et lex maculōsum ēdomuit nefas,

laudantur similī prōle puerperae,

   culpam poena premit comes.

quis Parthum paveat, quis gelidum Scythen,        

quis Germānia quōs horrida parturit

fētus incolumī Caesare? quis ferae

   bellum cūret Hibēriae?

condit quisque diem collibus in suīs

et vītem viduās dūcit ad arborēs;

hinc ad vīna redit laetus et alterīs

   tē mensīs adhibet deum;

tē multā prece, tē prōsequitur merō

dēfūsō paterīs et Laribus tuum

miscet nūmen, utī Graecia Castoris

   et magnī memor Herculis.

‘longās ō utinam, dux bone, fēriās

praestēs Hesperiae!’ dīcimus integrō

sīccī māne diē, dīcimus ūvidī,

   cum sōl ōceanō subest.

:: Latin books by James Rumford ::

For all 102 odes purchase Carpe Diem, Horace De-Poetized, for $11.50 at 

https://www.amazon.com/Carpe-Diem-Poetized-James-Rumford/dp/1891839179/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1479932219&sr=8-1&keywords=Carpe+Diem+Rumford. 

For a Latin translation of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer at $12, click here: 

https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Pericla+Thomae+Sawyer

To find out more about Carpe Diem go to the blog of March 26, 2015; 

for more about Pericla Thomae Sawyer, go to the blog of November 22, 2016.