The Epistles of Horace: Bilingual Edition - Softcover

Horace

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0374528527 ISBN 13: 9780374528522

Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2002

Synopsis

My aim is to take familiar things and make
Poetry of them, and do it in such a way
That it looks as if it was as easy as could be
For anybody to do it . . . the power of making
A perfectly wonderful thing out of nothing much.
--from "The Art of Poetry"

When David Ferry's translation of The Odes of Horace appeared in 1997, Bernard Knox, writing in The New York Review of Books, called it "a Horace for our times." Now Ferry has translated Horace's two books of Epistles, in which Horace perfected the conversational verse medium that gives his voice such dazzling immediacy, speaking in these letters with such directness, wit, and urgency to young writers, to friends, to his patron Maecenas, to Emperor Augustus himself. It is the voice of a free man, talking about how to get along in a Roman world full of temptations, opportunities, and contingencies, and how to do so with one's integrity intact. Horace's world, so unlike our own and yet so like it, comes to life in these poems. And there are also the poems -- the famous "Art of Poetry" and others -- about the tasks and responsibilities of the writer: truth to the demands of one's medium, fearless clear-sighted self-knowledge, and unillusioned, uncynical realism, joyfully recognizing the world for what it is.

About this title

About the Authors

Horace (65 BCE-8 BCE) was a Roman lyric poet during the reign of Augustus whose major themes included politics, love, philosophy, social role, and poetry. He wrote Satires, Odes, and Epistles as well as Carmen Saeculare and Ars Poetica. Much more is known about Horace than other ancient poets because he included many autobiographical details in his writing. Horace's Epistles later influenced the style of Ovid and Propertius.

David Ferry, a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award in Poetry for his translation of Gilgamesh, is a poet and translator who has also won the Lenore Marshall Poetry Prize, given by the Academy of American Poets, and the Rebekah Johnson Bobbitt National Prize for Poetry, given by the Library of Congress. In 2001, he received an Award in Literature from the American Academy of Arts and Letters. Ferry is the Sophie Chantal Hart Professor of English Emeritus at Wellesley College.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

The Epistles of Horace

Bilingual EditionBy David Ferry

Farrar Straus Giroux

Copyright © 2002 David Ferry
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9780374528522

Chapter One

BOOK ONE

Prima dicte mihi, summa dicende Camena,
spectatum satis et donatum iam rude quaeris,
Maecenas, iterum antiquo me includere ludo?
non eadem est aetas, non mens. Veianius armis
Herculis ad postem fixis latet abditus agro,
ne populum extrema rediens exoret harena.
est mihi purgatam crebro qui personet aurem:
`solve senescentem mature sanus equum, ne
peccet ad extremum ridendus et ilia ducat.'
nunc itaque et versus et cetera ludicra pono:
quid verum atque decens curo et rogo et omnis in hoc sum.
condo et compono quae mox depromere possim.
ac ne forte roges quo me duce, quo Lare tuter,
nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri,
quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
nunc agilis fio et mersor civilibus undis
virtutis verae custos rigidusque satelles;
nunc in Aristippi furtim praecepta relabor
et mihi res, non me rebus, subiungere conor.

TO MAECENAS

Maecenas, you were the first to be named in the first
Poem I ever wrote and you'll be the first
To be named in the last I'm ever going to write,
So why on earth, Maecenas, do you persist
In trying to send a beat-up old-timer like me
Back into the ring? I'm not what I used to be,
Not in age and not in inclination.
Veianius, you know, the famous gladiator,
Has hung up his arms at the door of Hercules
And gone to hide away someplace in the country.
He doesn't want to have to keep on asking
Over and over for favor from the crowd.
I'm getting used to hearing people say,
"A word to the wise: send the old horse out to pasture
Before he falls down while everybody jeers,"
And so I'm giving up my verses and all
Other foolishness of the sort, and now
Devote myself entirely to the study
Of what is genuine and right for me,
Storing up what I learn for the sake of the future.
You ask me where my home and shelter is,
Who's my protector now? No one at all.
I'm bound by oath to no one but myself.
Wherever I happen to be when a storm comes up,
I make for the nearest port, whatever it is.
One moment you see me busy doing good,
Active in all the causes, champion of virtue,
And then the next I furtively slip back into
The study of Aristippus's rules on how

Ut nox longa quibus mentitur amica diesque
longa videtur opus debentibus, ut piger annus
pupillis quos dura premit custodia matrum,
sic mihi tarda fluunt ingrataque tempora, quae spem
consiliumque morantur agendi naviter id quod
aeque pauperibus prodest, locupletibus aeque,
aeque neglectum pueris senibusque nocebit.
restat ut his ego me ipse regam solerque elementis.
non possis oculo quantum contendere Lynceus,
non tamen idcirco contemnas lippus inungi;
nec, quia desperes invicti membra Glyconis,
nodosa corpus nolis prohibere cheragra.
est quadam prodire tenus, si non datur ultra.
fervet avaritia miseroque cupidine pectus?
sunt verba et voces quibus hunc lenire dolorem
possis et magnam morbi deponere partem.
laudis amore tumes? sunt certa piacula quae te
ter pure lecto poterunt recreare libello.
invidus, iracundus, iners, vinosus, amator
nemo adeo ferus est ut non mitescere possit,
si modo culturae patientem commodet aurem.

Virtus est vitium fugere et sapientia prima
stultitia caruisse. vides, quae maxima credis
esse mala, exiguum censum turpemque repulsam,

To make the world serve me, not me the world.
Just as the night seems to go on forever
For the lover whose mistress has deserted him,
Just as the day seems never to end for one
Who has to labor all day long for his bread,
Just as the year seems endless for the youth
Who's not yet free of his mother's household rule,
Just so, the hours drag on that hinder me
In my ambition to advance myself
In the sort of project that, if carried out
Successfully, is good for anyone,
Whether rich or poor, and its failure is bound to be
Harmful to anyone, whether he's young or old.

I have to do my best with what I've got.
Suppose you don't have eyes as good as Lynceus;
That doesn't mean that if they're sore you wouldn't
Use salve to make them better; suppose you haven't
A chance in the world of competing with undefeated
Glycon the strongman, that doesn't mean you wouldn't
Try everything you could by exercise
To keep away rheumatic aches and pains.
You can't do everything, but you have to do
Everything you can. Are you burning up
With avarice? There are spells and sayings to use
To make the fever abate, and make you better.
All swollen up with love of glory, are you?
There are charms you can use to bring the swelling down,
If you read the book three times and faithfully follow
The rites prescribed especially for your trouble.
Nobody's so far gone in savagery—
A slave of envy, wrath, lust, drunkenness, sloth—
That he can't be civilized, if he'll only listen
Patiently to the doctor's good advice.

Virtue begins by shunning vice; wisdom
By shunning folly. Look at the trouble and risk
You're willing to take to avoid what you think are the worst

quanto devites animi capitisque labore.
impiger extremos curris mercator ad Indos,
per mare pauperiem fugiens, per saxa, per ignis:
ne cures ea quae stulte miraris et optas,
discere et audire et meliori credere non vis?
quis circum pagos et circum compita pugnax
magna coronari contemnat Olympia, cui spes,
cui sit condicio dulcis sine pulvere palmae?
vilius argentum est auro, virtutibus aurum.

'O cives, cives, quaerenda pecunia primum est,
virtus post nummos.' haec Ianus summus ab imo
prodocet, haec recinunt iuvenes dictata senesque.
laevo suspensi loculos tabulamque lacerto
est animus tibi, sunt mores, est lingua fidesque,
sed quadringentis sex septem milia desunt:
plebs eris. at pueri ludentes 'rex eris' aiunt,
'si recte facies.' hic murus aeneus esto,
nil conscire sibi, nulla pallescere culpa.
Roscia, dic sodes, melior lex an puerorum est
nenia, quae regnum recte facientibus offert,
et maribus Curiis et decantata Camillis?
isne tibi melius suadet qui rem facias, rem,
si possis, recte, si non, quocumque modo, rem,
ut propius spectes lacrimosa poemata Pupi,
an qui Fortunae te responsare superbae
liberum et erectum praesens hortatur et aptat?

Things of all that could possibly happen: defeat
At the polls, perhaps, or maybe the loss of a fortune.
You are, for example, a merchant eager for gain,
So off you go as far as the farthest Indies,
And all to get away from poverty,
No matter at what risk of storms at sea,
Of shipboard fires, or hidden rocks or shoals.
Why don't you listen and learn from someone who knows
Better than you how to quit competing for
And caring about what you care about and compete for
So foolishly?

              Listen to someone like me—
(What fighter in the dusty arena wouldn't
As soon be crowned with the wreath without the dust?)
Gold is worth more than silver, virtue's worth more
Than gold. Here is the way the moneymen talk,
Down by the Arch of Janus: "Citizens, listen,
Get money first, get virtue after that."
That's what you hear wherever you go these days.
"Suppose you have good sense, and eloquence,
You have good morals, your word can always be trusted.
So what? If, nevertheless, you're short of the money
It takes to buy a knighthood, you're just a pleb."
But children at their play have a song that goes:
"He who does right will be a king, all right."
Let this be our defense: not to have any
Wrongdoing on our conscience to worry over.
So tell me, which is better, the things they say
Down by the Arch of Janus, or what the children
Sing and chant as they play their game in the street:
"He who does right will be a king, all right,"
The song that manly Camillus probably sang,
And manly Curius too, when they were kids?
Is it better advice you get from the one who says:
"Fair means or foul, get money if you can;
No matter how you get it, be sure you get it"—
All for a seat down front at some bad play?

Quod si me populus Romanus forte roget cur
non ut porticibus sic iudiciis fruar isdem,
nec sequar aut fugiam quae diligit ipse vel odit,
olim quod vulpes aegroto cauta leoni
respondit referam: 'quia me vestigia terrent
omnia te adversum spectantia, nulla retrorsum.'
belua multorum es capitum. nam quis sequar aut quem?
pars hominum gestit conducere publica; sunt qui
frustis et pomis viduas venentur avaras
excipiantque senes quos in vivaria mittant;
multis occulto crescit res faenore. verum
esto aliis alios rebus studiisque teneri:
idem eadem possunt horam durare probantes?
'nullus in orbe sinus Bais praelucet amoenis,'
si dixit dives, lacus et mare sentit amorem
festinantis eri; cui si vitiosa libido
fecerit auspicium, cras ferramenta Teanum
tolletis, fabri. lectus genialis in aula est?
nil ait esse prius, melius nil caelibe vita:
si non est, iurat bene solis esse maritis.
quo teneam vultus mutantem Protea nodo?
quid pauper? ride: mutat cenacula, lectos,
balnea, tonsores; conducto navigio aeque
nauseat ac locuples, quem ducit priva triremis.

Or better to listen to him whose advice prepares you
To stand up, a free man, defying arrogant Fortune?

What if the Roman people should ask me why,
Since I walk the same streets and under the same
Colonnades as they do, I'm not a lover
Of what they love, or hater of what they hate.
I'd give the answer the fox gave to the lion:
"I see those footprints. I see that those footprints all
Go into your den, and none come out again.
You're a monster with many heads, so why on earth
Do you think I'd be willing to go along with you?"

Who is it I'm supposed to emulate?
Those whose money grows by who knows what?
Those who get their profit from public money?
Those who hunt down widows with charming gifts
Or hornswoggle foolish old men into their nets,
Bringing them in like animals into game parks?

Different people go in for different things,
For this, for that, or the other; that doesn't mean
They won't change their minds an hour later and
Go in for that, this, anything else instead.
"No place more beautiful than Baiae Bay."
The minute the rich man says it, that minute you know
His pleasure in Baiae Bay has spent itself,
And you know his libido will take him another way:
"Workmen, build me a house inland at Teanum."
Is the bed of the household Genius set up in the hall
Of the married man's house? Why of course he says:
"I long for a bachelor life, the best of all."
But move it out of the hall, and then he says,
"Being married, after all, is best of all."
How do you keep the face of this Proteus
From changing, time and time again? The poor man?
Just like the rich man, on a different budget.
As soon as he's in one garret he wants another;

Si curatus inaequali tonsore capillos
occurri, rides; si forte subucula pexae
trita subest tunicae vel si toga dissidet impar,
rides: quid mea cum pugnat sententia secum,
quod petiit spernit, repetit quod nuper omisit,
aestuat et vitae disconvenit ordine toto,
diruit aedificat, mutat quadrata rotundis?
insanire putas sollemnia me neque rides,
nec medici credis nec curatoris egere
a praetore dati, rerum tutela mearum
cum sis et prave sectum stomacheris ob unguem
de te pendentis, te respicientis amici.

Ad summam, sapiens uno minor est Iove, dives,
liber, honoratus, pulcher, rex denique regum,
praecipue sanus—nisi cum pituita molesta est.

He goes to a different public bath every day;
One haircut and he wants to change his barber;
He rents a little boat and gets just as seasick
As the rich man gets on his opulent private yacht.

Maecenas, you notice and laugh if the barber gives me
A crooked haircut or if my worn-out shirt
Shows under the new tunic I just bought
Or if my toga doesn't hang down straight.
But when I don't know what my own mind is,
Hating the thing I just now loved, and wanting
The thing I just rejected scornfully,
Judgment seething and boiling, the order of things
All out of order, pulled down, built up again,
Pulled down, built up, round turned to square, and square
To round again, you're perfectly unperturbed
And not the least disposed to laugh at me,
Nor do you think I need a doctor's help
Or a keeper assigned by the court to take care of me.

The wise man's second only to Jupiter:
He is a king of kings in his own life,
As the Stoics say; free, beautiful, most honored,
And above all else he's reasonable and sane,
Unless, of course, he's got a bad toothache.

Continues...

Excerpted from The Epistles of Horaceby David Ferry Copyright © 2002 by David Ferry. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Edition details

• Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux
• Publication date: 2002
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 0374528527
• ISBN 13: 9780374528522
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 224