It Isn't Worth It :: Tyrrhena Regum Progenies :: III:29

The day-to-day worry, the stress of having things, too many things, isn't worth it. Better to relax once in a while and enjoy the simple pleasures of life. And should fate deal you a bad hand, don't fight it. Don't hang on to what you have. Give it all up and let the winds carry you to calmer seas.

I wonder how many harried businessmen or besieged politicians over the last two thousand years have found wisdom and solace in today's ode. I wonder what the rich man Maecenas, to whom this poem is addressed, thought of Horace's philosophy of life. And I wonder how many over the centuries, knowing this poem, have ignored its message and have refused to let go of what is actually holding them down. How many like the actress Allison Doody in "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade" go to their doom stubbornly reaching for the Holy Grail?

Horace describes his philosophy of life well: If there is a sudden storm arising from North Africa, instead of going down with the ship laden with all his goods, he jumps aboard the life boat and lets the winds and the stars carry him where they will. It's a fine line Horace paints between cowardice and prudence. 

This fine line, I think, lies in Horace's understanding of the role of fate in human affairs. When fortune is with you, great. When it is not, there is little you can do. Horace says: when Fortune spreads her wings to leave me, I give back to her what she has given. I wrap myself in my worth as a human being [meā virtute] and accept my honest poverty [probam pauperiem]. 

What courage and self-presence it would take to follow Horace's example. How many of us will take those minutes meant for escape to hose down our roof before the on-coming fire, to board up one more window before the impending hurricane?

As in my last posting, I have used footnotes to explain difficult passages. I have also highlighted in red certain words or phrases so that you can easily locate them in the prose rendition, the Delphin ordo, and in the original ode.

Translation ::

Etruscan offspring of kings, for you

mild wine from a jar not yet opened, 

Maecenas, with roses and for your 

hair pressed balsam already at my 

house. Tear yourself away for a while! 

Don’t keep looking at damp Tibur or 

Aefula’s sloping fields or the hills 

of Telegonus the Parricide.

Leave behind the sickening cliques and 

that rock pile close to towering clouds.

Let it go—looking at the smoke and 

the wealth and the noise of blessèd Rome.

Very often a welcome change for 

the rich and a nice meal before a 

poorman’s little hearth without carpets 

and purple have smoothed a worried brow.

Andromeda’s bright father has just 

shown his hidden fire; now Procyon 

rages—and the insane lion star, 

as the sun brings back the days of thirst.[1]

Now the tired shepherd looks for shade and 

stream with his listless flock and the thick

bushes of rough Silvanus with no 

quiet river bank, no errant winds.

You care what form suits the city-state 

and, worried, you fear for Rome: what the 

Chinese are hatching and Balkh once Cyrus-

ruled and the dissident Tanaïs. [2]

The knowing God hides in the fog of night 

what the future may bring and laughs, if 

a mortal becomes stressed beyond what 

is right. Remember what is present:

be calm and even-tempered. The rest 

is carried off like a river, now in 

mid-channel peacefully slipping down 

to the Etruscan Sea, now worn rocks

and roots snatched away and cattle and 

houses churning together, with the 

noise of the mountains and nearby woods, 

as that untamed flood stirs to anger 

quiet streams. Master over himself and

happy, he makes out, who for a day 

can have said “I’ve lived. Tomorrow, Jove, 

whether by a black cloud or a sky

filled with pure sun [3], will in no way void  

whatever's past nor will he undo 

and give another shade of color 

to what the fleeting hour has once brought.”

Joyful Fortune in her wild dealings, 

determined to play a brazen game, 

shifts around her uncertain honors,

now kind to me, now to another. 

I praise her for staying[4]; if she 

shakes her swift feathers, I return what 

she gave, wrap myself in my virtue,

and undowered seek clean poverty.

It is not my thing—if the mast roars 

from African storms—to resort to sad 

little prayers and bargain with God that 

the goods from Cyprus and Tyre not 

add wealth to the avaricious sea.

That’s when the breeze, the twin Pollux too, 

will carry me through the Aegean 

turmoil safely in a two-oared skiff.

Translation © 2011 by James Rumford

    

Notes ::

1  All stars during the summer months: Andromedae pater: Cepheus, which rises about July 15; the star Procyon, which rises July 15, eleven days before the Dog Star; stella vesani Leonis, Leo or its main star Regulus.

2  Tanais: people living along the River Don.

3 Vel atrā nube polum pater occupatō vel sole purō was too telegraphic for me to figure out. The translations and explanations were of little help. Literally this is:

Either with a black cloud the sky the father

by filling or with pure sun 

What we have here are two intertwined ablative absolutes:

Either by the father's filling the sky with a black cloud

or by the father's filling the sky with pure sun.

4 Laudo manentem, literally "I praise the staying one" refers to Fortune. Latin let me down here. In spite of its insistence on gender, there are just some constructions and declensions which show no gender. Hence I didn't know what this phrase meant until I looked at a few translations.

In Prose ::

[O] Maecenas, progenies Tyrrhena regum, iamdudum apud me est tibi merum lene, [ex] cado ante non verso, cum flore rosarum et balanus capillis tuis pressa.

Morae te eripe. Nec semper Tibur udum et arvum declive Aefulae et iuga Telegoni parricidae contempleris. Copiam fastidiosam et molem propinquam nubibus arduis desere. Omitte fumum et opes strepitumque Romae beatae mirari.

Plerumque ‹vices divitibus gratae cenaeque mundae› sub lare parvo pauperum sine aulaeis et ostro frontem sollicitam explicuer[unt].

Iam pater clarus Andromedae ignem occultum ostendit. Iam Procyon furit et stella Leonis vesani, sole dies siccos referente.

Iam pastor fessus umbras rivumque cum grege languido quaerit et dumeta Silvani horridi, ripaque taciturna ventis vagis caret.

Tu curas quis status civitatem deceat, et, sollictus, urbi times: quid Seres et Bactra, Cyro regnata, Tanaisque discors parent. 

Deus, prudens, exitum temporis futuri nocte calignosa premit ridetque, si mortalis ultra fas trepidat. 

Quod adest memento aequos componere. 

Cetera ritu fluminis ferunter, nunc medio alveo cum pace in mare Etruscum delabentis, nunc ‹lapides adesos› stirpesque raptas et pecus et domos una volventis, non sine clamore montium silvaeque vicinae, cum diluvies fera amnes quietos irritat. 

Ille potens sui laetusque deget cui licet in diem dixisse “Vixi.” 

Cras pater, polum vel nube atra vel sole puro occupato. Quodcumque tamen retro est, irritum non efficiet neque infectum diffinget. Quodque hora fugiens semel vexit [non] reddet. 

Fortuna laeta negotio saevo et ludum insolentem ludere pertinax honores incertos transmutat, nunc mihi nunc alii benigna. [Illam] manentem [mecum] laudo. Si pennas celeres quatit, quae dedit resigno et [cum] virtute mea me involvo pauperiemque probam sine dote quaero.

Meum non est, si malus procellis Africis mugiat, ad preces miseras decurrere et votis pacisci ‹ne merces Cypriae Tyriaeque divitias mari avaro addant›. Tunc, aura geminusque Pollux me tutum per tumultus Aegaeos [in] praesidio scaphae biremis feret.   [revised March 28, 2015]

Delphin Ordo ::

O Mæcenas, proles Hetrusca Regum, jam pridem apud me tibi est dulce vinum in amphorâ non hactnus inversâ, cum floribus rosarum, et balanus expressa tuis crinibus. Subtrahe te cunctationi; ne continuè spectes humidum Tibur, et pronos argros Æsulæ, collesque Telegoni parricidae. Relinque abundantiam fastidium afferentem, et ædes excelsis nubibus proximas. Intermitte admirari fumum, et potentiam, tumultusque Romæ felicis. Non rarò jucunda opulentis varietas, et nitidæ cœnæ in exiguiâ domo pauperum, sine tapetibus et purpurâ, vultum anxium porrexerunt. Jam lucidus parens Andromedæ promit ardorem absconditum. Jam sævit Anticanis, ac sidus Leonis furiosi, Sole reducente dies aridos. Nunc pastor æstu fatigatus cum grege languente petit umbras, et amnes, atque densa nemora Silvani hirsuti; et littus silens leves non habet auras. Tu laboras quis urbi status conveniat, ac mentis anxius quid adversùs  Rempublicam moliantur Seres, et Bactriani Cyro subjecti, atque Tanais seditiosus. Dii sapientes obscuris tenebris involvunt venturi ævi sortem : deridentque si homo plus quàm decet angatur. Satage bene moderari præsentia. Reliqua dilabuntur instar fluvii Tiberis, modò intra ripas quietè defluentis in mare Thuscum, modò saxa corrosa evulsasque stirpes, et greges, atque ædificia simul abripientis, haud sine sonitu montium et silvæ proximæ; quando immanis eluvies solicitat fluvios tranquillos. Is compos sui est, vivetque hilaris, qui diebus singulis dicere potest, Vixi: crastinâ die Jupiter cœlo producat vel obscura nubila vel serenam diem; at nequaquam rescindet quicquid actum est, neque mutabit ac destruet quod semel attulit fluxum tempus. Fors gaudens rebus adversis, et obstinata ludere ludum petulantem, subvertit dignitates caducas, jam mihi, mox alteri propitia. Laudo stantem. Quòd si leves alas movet, reddo quæ donavit, et meâ me virtute protego; atque honestam paupertatem indotatam peto. Si navis gemat Africis tempestatibus, non ad me attinet confugere ad vota luctuosa, et precibus obtinere, ne Cypriæ vel Tyriæ merces mari avido opes adjungant. Tum etiam me securum ventus lenis ac geminus Pollux per fluctus Ægæos vehet ope naviculæ duos remos habentis.

Original Ode ::

Tyrrhēna rēgum prōgenies, tibi
nōn ante versō lēne merum cadō
   cum flōre, Maecēnās, rosārum et
       pressa tuīs balanus capillīs
iamdūdum apud mē est: ēripe tē morae,
nec semper ūdum Tībur et Aefulae
   dēclīve contemplēris arvum et
       Tēlegonī iuga parricidae.
fastīdiōsam dēsere cōpiam et
mōlem propinquam nūbibus arduīs:
   ǒmitte mīrārī beātae
        fūmum et opēs strepitumque Rōmae.
plērumque grātae dīvitibus vicēs
mundaeque parvō sub lare pauperum
   cēnae sine aulaeīs et ostrō
       sollicitam explicuēre frontem. 
iam clārus occultum Andromedae pater
ostendit ignem, iam Procyon furit
   et stella vēsānī Leōnis,
       sōle diēs referente siccos;
iam pastor umbrās cum grege languidō
rīvumque fessus quaerit et horridi
   dūmēta Silvānī, caretque
       rīpa vagīs taciturna ventīs.
tū cīvitātem quis deceat status
cūrās et urbī sollicitus timēs
   quid Sēres et regnāta Cȳrō
       Bactra parent Tanaīsque discors.
prūdēns futūrī temporis exitum
cālignōsā nocte premit deus
   rīdetque, sī mortālis ultrā
       fās trepidat. quod adest mementō
compōnere aequos; cētera flūminis
rītū feruntur, nunc mediō alveō
   cum pace dēlābentis ētruscum
       in mare, nunc lapidēs adēsōs
stirpısque raptās et pecus et domōs
volventis unā, nōn sine montium
   clāmōre vīcīnaeque silvae,
       cum fera dīluviēs quiētōs
irrītat amnıs. ille potēns suī
laetusque dēget cuī licet in diem
   dixisse “vixī”: crās vel atrā
       nūbe polum pater occupatō
vel sōle pūrō; nōn tamen irritum
quodcumque retrō est efficiet neque
   diffinget infectumque reddet
       quod fugiēns semel hōra vexit.
Fortūna saevō laeta negōtiō et
lūdum insolentem lūdere pertinax
   transmūtat incertōs honōrēs,
       nunc mihi nunc aliī benigna.
laudō manentem; sī celerıs quatit
pennās, resignō quae dedit et meā
   virtūte mē involvō probamque
       pauperiem sine dōte quaerō.
nōn est meum, sī mūgiat Africīs
mālus procellīs, ad miserās precēs
   dēcurrere et vōtīs pacīscī
       nē Cypriae Tyriaeque mercēs
addant avārō dīvitiās marī:
tunc mē birēmis praesidiō scaphae
   tūtum per Aegaeōs tumultūs

       aura feret geminusque Pollux.

:: 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.

More is Never Enough :: Intactis Opulentior :: III:24

Horace rails again. Same ‘ole theme: the rich can’t buy death off and they are never satisfied with what they have. They are never as happy as the nomads of the plains who lead a more virtuous life. But what do we Romans know of virtue? We despise the virtuous man. We only like him dead. We try to cover up this envy of ours by erecting statues in the dead man’s honor and calling him pater urbium, ‘father of the civilized world.’  Our greed knows no bounds. We’ll go to the ends of the earth to acquire more and more, while at home, for those less fortunate, we do nothing. We let poverty grind them into the dirt and despise them when they stray from the path of virtue. 

All I can say, after reading this ode, is: Rome was such a mess!  

But I bet you’re thinking what I’m thinking. Not much has changed in two thousand years . . . except the details:  the untouched treasures of the Arabs, intacti thesauri Arabum, have been broken into. Capitoline Hill (where the earliest of Romans found a caput, a buried head) is in ruins, but Capitol Hill is not. We no longer have slaves and free-born men—just minimum wage earners and CEO’s. And while we may no longer call fate Necessitas, we fear it all the same.

There is not much to say about the grammar or the words. They both remain a challenge. What was difficult, however, was Horace’s logic. In some sixty or so lines, he managed to pit wealthy Romans against fate, contrast their morals with those of the nomads and compare them with traders and merchants. He plugged capital punishment and took a poke or two at little rich kids. An amazing feat, but did he carry it off? I’ll let you be the judge.

I am going to try something new in this posting: footnotes. The small bracketed numerals in the translation refer to notes immediately following.

translation :: 8:12

Richer than the untouched treasures 

of the Arabs, the wealthy of India, 

you feel free with your quarried stones 

to occupy all the land and the public sea.

Being in the loftiest of 

places[1], you won’t free your soul from from fear, your head 

from the snare of death, if dreaded 

Necessitas pins you down with diamond-hard spikes.

The Scyths on the plains, carrying 

their nomad houses on their carts, as is their way, 

live better, the hard Getae, too, 

whose unmeasured acres bring them free fruit and grain. 

Farming more than a year does not 

please them; a replacement, by a fair lottery 

relieves the one who’s done his work. 

There a kind woman will put up with motherless 

stepchildren. No richly doweried 

wife rules her man or trusts some glittering lover. 

The dowry from her parents is 

huge: virtue and, by sure consent, the chastity 

that instills fear of another 

man and committing sins for which the price is death. 

Oh, the one who would take away 

unholy bloodshed and civil rage—were he to want 

Pater Urbium written on 

his statues—that one would be bold enough to put 

a stop to uncontrollable 

license. He would be famous for generations,

since—God!—we hate virtue alive; 

envious, we desire it removed from our sight.[2] 

What do grievous legal complaints, 

if crime is not checked by capital punishment,

laws emptied of morality

accomplish, if the part of the world imprisoned 

by hot summer heat and the side 

bordering the north wind and hard snow on the ground 

do not drive away the trader? 

Experienced sailors do overcome savage seas

and being a pauper, a great 

disgrace, does force you to do and suffer anything

and leave the road of hard virtue.[3]

Be it to Capitoline Hill, where cheering calls

and a crowd of people clapping,

be it to the closest sea, let us send our pearls 

and gems and useless gold, the stuff 

of the highest evil, if we really repent. 

The elements of perverse greed 

must be scraped away; and the minds tender beyond 

measure must be formed by harsher 

studies. The ignorant free-born boy doesn’t know 

how to stay on a horse; more schooled 

in games, he’s afraid of the hunt; you might coax him 

with a Greek hoop or—if you like—

a dice game forbidden by law, while his father’s 

trustless trust cheats partners and friends 

and hastens the money to his unworthy heir. 

Of course, dishonest wealth grows, but 

short[4]—there’s always something—I don’t know what—missing.  

translation © 2011 by James Rumford

Notes to the translation ::

[1] Translators say that summis verticibus means ‘in the rooftops.’ They reason that Necessitas [death] was often represented as a builder and that the nails meant that one could go no higher. The earliest commentators didn’t say anything about rooftops. The problem is vertex, which means anything from whirlpool to forehead to peak to the highest part of anything. Why can’t we make this simple? In the very highest of places Necessitas will nail you. In other words, no matter how high you climb or how rich you are, you will die.

[2] As I see it, there are two ways to understand sublatam ex oculis quaerimus invidi. 

We, envious, seek [virtue] taken away from the eyes.

or

We, envious, seek [virtue] when it is taken away from the eyes.

The question for those who insist upon the second translation is: Why are we invidi? The only answer I can come up with is that we are jealous or envious because we hate virtue in others and want them dead.

[3] I frankly don’t understand Horace’s logic here, since lines 33 to 44 are, according to tradition, one giant question.  If so, how does this work? What is the connection between the futility of laws without punishment and traders going off to inhospitable climes? To complicate matters, Horace brings in adept sailors and grinding poverty. The idea has to be, as the earliest commentators suggest, that greed knows no obstacles, either on land or on sea. As for poverty, perhaps Horace means that greed brings on poverty which, in turn, forces one to leave viam virtutis, the path of virtue.  

What kind of path? An arduous one even though arduae goes with virtutis. Many commentators have made it clear what they think Horace meant here, but I have this feeling that Horace meant what he said:  poverty makes ones abandon the road of arduous virtue.  Why can’t virtue be arduous or lofty or difficult to reach or troublesome or any of the many meanings of arduus?

[4] Curtae means ‘mutilated, broken, shortened’ even ‘circumcised, castrated.’ The Lewis and Short Latin Dictionary seems to say that curtae describes rei so that these lines mean:

. . . Of course, unclean

riches grow, but

some little thing, I don’t know what, is always missing.

What if these lines were punctuated differently? 

. . . scilicet improbae

divitiae crescunt, tamen

curtae. nescio quid semper abest rei.

. . . Of course, unclean 

wealth grows, but 

stunted. Something—I don’t know what—is always missing.

In this way curtae  would go with divitiae, yielding an oxymoron: ‘skimpy riches.’ I like this better. There is a bit of sarcasm and wit in this and, to me, fits the tenor of the entire ode as Horace asks: can’t you see that you’ll never have enough?

in prose ::

Licet opulentior thesauris intactis Arabum et divitis Indiae, [tu] omne mare Tyrrhenum et Punicum caementis tuis occupes. [Sed] si Necessitas dira clavos adamantinos verticibus summis figit, animum [tuum] non [ab] metu expedes, non caput [ab] laqueis mortis. 

Scythae campestres, quorum plaustra rite domos vagas trahunt, melius vivunt, et Getae rigidi, quibus iugera immetata fruges liberas et Cererem ferunt. Nec cultura annua longior placet, vicariusque ‹laboribus defunctum› sorte aequali recreat. 

Illic mulier innocens privignis matre carentibus temperat. Nec coniu[n]x dotata virum regit nec adultero nitido fidit. Dos magna parentium virtus est, et castitas, certo foedere, metuens alterius viri et peccare [est] nefas aut pretium est mori. 

O quiquis volet caedes impias et rabiem civicam tollere, si ‘pater urbium’ quaeret [in] statuis subscribi, audeat licentiam indomitam refrenare. Clarus [erit] progenitis: quatenus—heu nefas!—virtutem incolumem odimus, [sed virtutem] ex oculis sublatam [nos] invidi quaerimus. 

Quid querimoniae tristes, si culpa [ab] supplico non reciditur? Quid leges vanae sine moribus proficunt, si ‹neque pars mundi caloribus fervidis inclusa› ‹nec latus finitimum Boreae› ‹nivesque solo duratae› mercatorem abigunt, [si] navitae callidi aequora horrida vincunt, [si] pauperies, [quae est] opprobrium magnum, iubet et quidvis facere et pati viamque virtutis arduae deserere? 

Vel nos in Capitolium, [in] quo clamor et turba faventium vocat, vel nos in mare proximum gemmas et lapides, aurum inutile et materiem mali summi mittamus, si scelerum bene paenitet. 

Elementa cupidinis pravi eradenda sunt! Et mentes nimis tenerae studiis asperioribus firmandae. Puer rudis ingenuus nescit equo haerere timetque venari, doctior ludere, seu trocho Graeco iubeas, seu [tu] malis, alea legibus vetita, cum fides periura patris socium consortem et hospites fallat pecuniamque heredi indigno properet. 

Scilicet, divitiae improbae crescunt—[sed] tamen curtae. Nescio quid semper abest rei.    [revised March 28, 2015]

delphin ordo ::

Quamvis totum mare Tyrrhenum atque Apulicum tuis ædificiis teneas, ditior nondum tentatis gazis Arabum ac Indiæ opulentæ; si fatum sævum clavos adamantinos excelsis culminibus infigit, neque mentem formidine, neque caput mortis retibus liberabis. Feliciùs in campis degunt Scythae; quorum incertas habitationes carpenta circumferunt, nec non asperi Getæ, quibus arva minimè circumscripta producunt communes segetes ac messes; neque exercetur cultura diuturnior uno anno; atque alter vices assumens pari fortunâ quietem tribuit alteri laboribus exsoluto. Ibi femina innoxia parcit privignis matrem non habentibus, neque uxor dote potens marito imperitat, nec splendido ausculta mœcho. Illic maxima dos æstimatur virtutus parentum, et pudicitia insolubili pacto alterum virum abhorrens. Illic non licet delinquere, vel merces est mors. O quicunque voluerit sceleratas strages furoremque civilem abolere, si inpiet imagini subscribi parens civitatum, is infrænatam coërcere cupiditatem suscipiat à posteris celebrandus: quandoquidem (proh scelus!) viventi virtuti adversamur invidentes, ereptam verò aspectui desideramus. Quorsum mœstæ [mæstæ] querelæ, si pœnâ crimen non amputatur? Quid leges prosunt absque moribus inutiles; si negotiatorem haud deterrent vel orbis regio æstu ferventi præclusa, nec pars Aquiloni proxima, nivesque humo constrictæ? et solertes [sollertes] nautæ maria formidabilia exsuperant? Inopia dedecus ingens impellit quidlibet et moliri et perferre, atque iter asperæ virtutis relinquit. Ergo nos aut deferamus in Capitolium, ad quod invitat applausus et concursus populi acclamantis, aut in mare vicinum projiciamus gemmas et lapillos, atque aurum exitiale, omnis mali causum, si verè crimina detestamur. Extirpanda sunt improbæ cupiditatis principia; animique molliores quàm oportet durioribus instituendi sunt exercitationibus. Nobilis adolescens ignorat equo insistere haud assuetus, ac venari fugit, peritior ludere, seu jubeas trocho Græco, sive magis placuerit aleâ prohibitâ: dum parens fide perjurio fractâ defraudat consortem socium et hospitem; atque divitias accumulat hæredi immerito. Nimirum iniquæ augescunt opes: verumtamen aliquod semper deest angustis bonis. 

original ode ::

Intactīs opulentior

thēsaurīs Arabum et dīvitis Indiae,

caementīs licet occupēs

Tyrrhēnum ^[terrēnum] omne tuīs et mare Pūnicum ^{[publicum, āpulicum]}.

sī fīgīt adamantinōs  

sūmmīs verticibus dīra Necessitās

clāvōs, nōn animum metū,

nōn mortis laqueīs expediēs caput.

campestrēs melius Scythae,

quōrum plaustra vagās rīte trahunt domōs,

vīvunt et rigidī Getae,

immētāta quibus iūgera līberās

frūgēs et Cererem ferunt.

nec cultūra placet longior annua.

dēfunctumque labōribus  

aequālī recreat sorte vicārius.

illic mātre carentibus

prīvignīs mulier temperat innocēns.

nec dōtāta regit virum

coniu[n]x nec nitidō fīdit adulterō.  

dōs est magna parentium

virtūs et metuēns alterius virī

certō foedere castitās.

et peccāre nefas: aut pretium est morī.

ō quisquis volet impiās

caedıs et rabiem tollere cīvicam,

sī quaeret pater urbium

subscrībī statuīs, indomitam audeat

refrēnāre licentiam,

clārus postgenitīs, quātenus, hēu nefas,

virtūtem incolumem ōdimus.

sublātam ex oculīs quaerimus invidī.

quid tristēs querimōniae,

sī nōn suppliciō culpa recīditur,

quid lēgēs sine mōribus

vānae prōficiunt, sī neque fervidīs

pars inclūsa calōribus

mundī nec Boreae fīnitimum latus

dūrātaeque solō nivēs

mercatōrem abigunt, horrida callidī

vincunt aequora nāvitae,

magnum pauperiēs opprobrium iubet

quidvis et facere et patī

virtūtisque viam dēserere^[dēserit] arduae?

vel nōs in Capitōlium, 

quō clāmor vocat et turba faventium,

vel nōs in mare proximum

gemmās et lapidēs aurum et inūtile,

sūmmī māteriem mālī,

mittāmus, scelerum sī bene paenitet. 

ērādenda cupīdinis

prāvī sunt elementa et tenerae nimis

mentēs asperiōribus

firmandae^[formandae] studiīs. nescit equō rudis

haerere ingenuus puer 

vēnārīque timet, lūdere doctior,

seu Graecō iubeās trochō

seu mālīs vetitā lēgibus āleā,

cum periūra patris fidēs

consortem socium fallat et hospitēs 

indignōque pecūniam

hērēdī properet. scīlicet improbae

crescunt dīvitiae, tamen

curtae nescio quid semper abest reī.

:: 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.