Shouldst haply of the furrow's depth inquire,Even to a shallow trench I dare commitThe vine; but deeper in the ground is fixedThe tree that props it, aesculus in chief,Which howso far its summit soars toward heaven,So deep strikes root into the vaults of hell.It therefore neither storms, nor blasts, nor showersWrench from its bed; unshaken it abides,Sees many a generation, many an ageOf men roll onward, and survives them all,Stretching its titan arms and branches far,Sole central pillar of a world of shade.
Forsitan et scrobibus quae sint fastigia quaeras.ausim vel tenui vitem committere sulco.Altior ac penitus terrae defigitur arbos,aesculus in primis, quae quantum vertice ad aurasaetherias, tantum radice in Tartara tendit.Ergo non hiemes illam, non flabra neque imbresconvellunt; inmota manet, multosque nepotes,multa virum volvens durando saecula vincit.Tum fortis late ramos et bracchia pandenshuc illuc, media ipsa ingentem sustinet umbram.
Nor toward the sunset let thy vineyards slope,Nor midst the vines plant hazel; neither takeThe topmost shoots for cuttings, nor from the topOf the supporting tree your suckers tear;So deep their love of earth; nor wound the plantsWith blunted blade; nor truncheons intersperseOf the wild olive: for oft from careless swainsA spark hath fallen, that, 'neath the unctuous rindHid thief-like first, now grips the tough tree-bole,And mounting to the leaves on high, sends forthA roar to heaven, then coursing through the boughsAnd airy summits reigns victoriously,Wraps all the grove in robes of fire, and grossWith pitch-black vapour heaves the murky reekSkyward, but chiefly if a storm has swoopedDown on the forest, and a driving windRolls up the conflagration. When 'tis so,Their root-force fails them, nor, when lopped away,Can they recover, and from the earth beneathSpring to like verdure; thus alone survivesThe bare wild olive with its bitter leaves.
Neve tibi ad solem vergant vineta cadentem,Neve inter vitis corylum sere, neve flagellasumma pete aut summa defringe ex arbore plantastantus amor terrae—neu ferro laede retunsosemina, neve oleae silvestris insere truncos:nam saepe incautis pastoribus excidit ignis,qui furtim pingui primum sub cortice tectusrobora conprendit frondesque elapsus in altasingentem caelo sonitum dedit; inde secutusper ramos victor perque alta cacumina regnatet totum involvit flammis nemus et ruit atramad caelum picea crassus caligine nubem,praesertim si tempestas a vertice silvisincubuit glomeratque ferens incendia ventus.Hoc ubi, non a stirpe valent caesaeque revertipossunt atque ima similes revirescere terra;infelix superat foliis oleaster amaris.
Let none persuade thee, howso weighty-wise,To stir the soil when stiff with Boreas' breath.Then ice-bound winter locks the fields, nor letsThe young plant fix its frozen root to earth.Best sow your vineyards when in blushing SpringComes the white bird long-bodied snakes abhor,Or on the eve of autumn's earliest frost,Ere the swift sun-steeds touch the wintry Signs,While summer is departing. Spring it isBlesses the fruit-plantation, Spring the groves;In Spring earth swells and claims the fruitful seed.Then Aether, sire omnipotent, leaps downWith quickening showers to his glad wife's embrace,And, might with might commingling, rears to lifeAll germs that teem within her; then resoundWith songs of birds the greenwood-wildernesses,And in due time the herds their loves renew;Then the boon earth yields increase, and the fieldsUnlock their bosoms to the warm west winds;Soft moisture spreads o'er all things, and the bladesFace the new suns, and safely trust them now;The vine-shoot, fearless of the rising south,Or mighty north winds driving rain from heaven,Bursts into bud, and every leaf unfolds.Even so, methinks, when Earth to being sprang,Dawned the first days, and such the course they held;'Twas Spring-tide then, ay, Spring, the mighty worldWas keeping: Eurus spared his wintry blasts,When first the flocks drank sunlight, and a raceOf men like iron from the hard glebe arose,And wild beasts thronged the woods, and stars the heaven.Nor could frail creatures bear this heavy strain,Did not so large a respite interpose'Twixt frost and heat, and heaven's relenting armsYield earth a welcome.
Nec tibi tam prudens quisquam persuadeat auctortellurem Borea rigidam spirante movere.Rura gelu tum claudit hiems nec semine iactoconcretam patitur radicem adfigere terrae.Optima vinetis satio, cum vere rubenticandida venit avis longis invisa colubris,prima vel autumni sub frigora, cum rapidus Solnondum hiemem contingit equis, iam praeterit aestas.Ver adeo frondi nemorum, ver utile silvis;vere tument terrae et genitalia semina poscunt.Tum pater omnipotens fecundis imbribus Aetherconiugis in gremium laetae descendit et omnismagnus alit magno commixtus corpore fetus.Avia tum resonant avibus virgulta canoriset Venerem certis repetunt armenta diebus;parturit almus ager Zephyrique tepentibus aurislaxant arva sinus; superat tener omnibus humor;inque novos soles audent se germina tutocredere, nec metuit surgentis pampinus austrosaut actum caelo magnis aquilonibus imbrem,sed trudit gemmas et frondes explicat omnis.Non alios prima crescentis origine mundiinluxisse dies aliumve habuisse tenoremcrediderim: ver illud erat, ver magnus agebatorbis et hibernis parcebant flatibus Euri,cum primae lucem pecudes hausere virumqueterrea progenies duris caput extulit arvis,inmissaeque ferae silvis et sidera caelo.Nec res hunc tenerae possent perferre laborem,si non tanta quies iret frigusque caloremqueinter, et exciperet caeli indulgentia terras.
For the rest, whate'erThe sets thou plantest in thy fields, thereonStrew refuse rich, and with abundant earthTake heed to hide them, and dig in withalRough shells or porous stone, for therebetweenWill water trickle and fine vapour creep,And so the plants their drooping spirits raise.Aye, and there have been, who with weight of stoneOr heavy potsherd press them from above;This serves for shield in pelting showers, and thisWhen the hot dog-star chaps the fields with drought.
Quod superest, quaecumque premes virgulta per agros,sparge fimo pingui et multa memor occule terra,aut lapidem bibulum aut squalentis infode conchas;inter enim labentur aquae tenuisque subibithalitus atque animos tollent sata; iamque reperti,qui saxo super atque ingentis pondere testaeurgerent; hoc effusos munimen ad imbris,hoc, ubi hiulca siti findit canis aestifer arva.
The slips once planted, yet remains to cleaveThe earth about their roots persistently,And toss the cumbrous hoes, or task the soilWith burrowing plough-share, and ply up and downYour labouring bullocks through the vineyard's midst,Then too smooth reeds and shafts of whittled wand,And ashen poles and sturdy forks to shape,Whereby supported they may learn to mount,Laugh at the gales, and through the elm-tops winFrom story up to story.
Seminibus positis superest diducere terramsaepius ad capita et duros iactare bidentis,aut presso exercere solum sub vomere et ipsaflectere luctantis inter vineta iuvencos;tum levis calamos et rasae hastilia virgaefraxineasque aptare sudes furcasque valentis,viribus eniti quarum et contemnere ventosadsuescant summasque sequi tabulata per ulmos.
Now while yetThe leaves are in their first fresh infant growth,Forbear their frailty, and while yet the boughShoots joyfully toward heaven, with loosened reinLaunched on the void, assail it not as yetWith keen-edged sickle, but let the leaves aloneBe culled with clip of fingers here and there.But when they clasp the elms with sturdy trunksErect, then strip the leaves off, prune the boughs;Sooner they shrink from steel, but then put forthThe arm of power, and stem the branchy tide.
Ac dum prima novis adolescit frondibus aetas,parcendum teneris, et dum se laetus ad auraspalmes agit laxis per purum inmissus habenis,ipsa acie nondum falcis temptanda, sed unciscarpendae manibus frondes interque legendae.Inde ubi iam validis amplexae stirpibus ulmosexierint, tum stringe comas, tum bracchia tonde—ante reformidant ferrum—tum denique duraexerce imperia et ramos conpesce fluentis.
Hedges too must be woven and all beastsBarred entrance, chiefly while the leaf is youngAnd witless of disaster; for therewith,Beside harsh winters and o'erpowering sun,Wild buffaloes and pestering goats for ayBesport them, sheep and heifers glut their greed.Nor cold by hoar-frost curdled, nor the proneDead weight of summer upon the parched crags,So scathe it, as the flocks with venom-biteOf their hard tooth, whose gnawing scars the stem.For no offence but this to Bacchus bleedsThe goat at every altar, and old playsUpon the stage find entrance; therefore tooThe sons of Theseus through the country-side—Hamlet and crossway—set the prize of wit,And on the smooth sward over oiled skinsDance in their tipsy frolic. FurthermoreThe Ausonian swains, a race from Troy derived,Make merry with rough rhymes and boisterous mirth,Grim masks of hollowed bark assume, invokeThee with glad hymns, O Bacchus, and to theeHang puppet-faces on tall pines to swing.Hence every vineyard teems with mellowing fruit,Till hollow vale o'erflows, and gorge profound,Where'er the god hath turned his comely head.Therefore to Bacchus duly will we singMeet honour with ancestral hymns, and catesAnd dishes bear him; and the doomed goatLed by the horn shall at the altar stand,Whose entrails rich on hazel-spits we'll roast.
Texendae saepes etiam et pecus omne tenendum,praecipue dum frons tenera inprudensque laborum;cui super indignas hiemes solemque potentemsilvestres uri adsidue capreaeque sequacesinludunt, pascuntur oves avidaeque iuvencae.Frigora nec tantum cana concreta pruinaaut gravis incumbens scopulis arentibus aestas,quantum illi nocuere greges durique venenumdentis et admorso signata in stirpe cicatrix.Non aliam ob culpam Baccho caper omnibus ariscaeditur et veteres ineunt proscaenia ludipraemiaque ingeniis pagos et compita circumthesidae posuere atque inter pocula laetimollibus in pratis unctos saluere per utres.Nec non Ausonii, Troia gens missa, coloniversibus incomptis ludunt risuque solutooraque corticibus sumunt horrenda cavatiset te, Bacche, vocant per carmina laeta tibiqueoscilla ex alta suspendunt mollia pinu.Hinc omnis largo pubescit vinea fetu,conplentur vallesque cavae saltusque profundi,et quocumque deus circum caput egit honestum.Ergo rite suum Baccho dicemus honoremcarminibus patriis lancesque et liba feremuset ductus cornu stabit sacer hircus ad arampinguiaque in veribus torrebimus exta colurnis.
This further task again, to dress the vine,Hath needs beyond exhausting; the whole soilThrice, four times, yearly must be cleft, the sodWith hoes reversed be crushed continually,The whole plantation lightened of its leaves.Round on the labourer spins the wheel of toil,As on its own track rolls the circling year.Soon as the vine her lingering leaves hath shed,And the chill north wind from the forests shookTheir coronal, even then the careful swainLooks keenly forward to the coming year,With Saturn's curved fang pursues and prunesThe vine forlorn, and lops it into shape.Be first to dig the ground up, first to clearAnd burn the refuse-branches, first to houseAgain your vine-poles, last to gather fruit.Twice doth the thickening shade beset the vine,Twice weeds with stifling briers o'ergrow the crop;And each a toilsome labour. Do thou praiseBroad acres, farm but few. Rough twigs besideOf butcher's broom among the woods are cut,And reeds upon the river-banks, and stillThe undressed willow claims thy fostering care.So now the vines are fettered, now the treesLet go the sickle, and the last dresser nowSings of his finished rows; but still the groundMust vexed be, the dust be stirred, and heavenStill set thee trembling for the ripened grapes.
Est etiam ille labor curandis vitibus alter,cui numquam exhausti satis est: namque omne quot annisterque quaterque solum scindendum glebaque versisaeternum frangenda bidentibus, omne levandumfronde nemus. Redit agricolis labor actus in orbematque in se sua per vestigia volvitur annus.Ac iam olim, seras posuit cum vinea frondes,frigidus et silvis aquilo decussit honorem,iam tum acer curas venientem extendit in annumrusticus et curvo Saturni dente relictampersequitur vitem attondens fingitque putando.Primus humum fodito, primus devecta crematosarmenta et vallos primus sub tecta referto;postremus metito. Bis vitibus ingruit umbra,bis segetem densis obducunt sentibus herbae;durus uterque labor: laudato ingentia rura,exiguum colito. Nec non etiam aspera ruscivimina per silvam et ripis fluvialis arundocaeditur, incultique exercet cura salicti.Iam vinctae vites, iam falcem arbusta reponunt,iam canit effectos extremus vinitor antes:sollicitanda tamen tellus pulvisque movenduset iam maturis metuendus Iuppiter uvis.
Not so with olives; small husbandry need they,Nor look for sickle bowed or biting rake,When once they have gripped the soil, and borne the breeze.Earth of herself, with hooked fang laid bare,Yields moisture for the plants, and heavy fruit,The ploughshare aiding; therewithal thou'lt rearThe olive's fatness well-beloved of Peace.
Contra non ulla est oleis cultura; neque illaeprocurvam exspectant falcem rastrosque tenacis,cum semel haeserunt arvis aurasque tulerunt;ipsa satis tellus, cum dente recluditur unco,sufficit humorem et gravidas, cum vomere, fruges.Hoc pinguem et placitam Paci nutritor olivam.
Apples, moreover, soon as first they feelTheir stems wax lusty, and have found their strength,To heaven climb swiftly, self-impelled, nor craveOur succour. All the grove meanwhile no lessWith fruit is swelling, and the wild haunts of birdsBlush with their blood-red berries. CytisusIs good to browse on, the tall forest yieldsPine-torches, and the nightly fires are fedAnd shoot forth radiance. And shall men be loathTo plant, nor lavish of their pains? Why traceThings mightier? Willows even and lowly broomsTo cattle their green leaves, to shepherds shade,Fences for crops, and food for honey yield.And blithe it is Cytorus to beholdWaving with box, Narycian groves of pitch;Oh! blithe the sight of fields beholden notTo rake or man's endeavour! the barren woodsThat crown the scalp of Caucasus, even these,Which furious blasts for ever rive and rend,Yield various wealth, pine-logs that serve for ships,Cedar and cypress for the homes of men;Hence, too, the farmers shave their wheel-spokes, henceDrums for their wains, and curved boat-keels fit;Willows bear twigs enow, the elm-tree leaves,Myrtle stout spear-shafts, war-tried cornel too;Yews into Ituraean bows are bent:Nor do smooth lindens or lathe-polished boxShrink from man's shaping and keen-furrowing steel;Light alder floats upon the boiling floodSped down the Padus, and bees house their swarmsIn rotten holm-oak's hollow bark and bole.What of like praise can Bacchus' gifts afford?Nay, Bacchus even to crime hath prompted, heThe wine-infuriate Centaurs quelled with death,Rhoetus and Pholus, and with mighty bowlHylaeus threatening high the Lapithae.
Poma quoque, ut primum truncos sensere valentiset viris habuere suas, ad sidera raptimvi propria nituntur opisque haud indiga nostrae.Nec minus interea fetu nemus omne gravescitsanguineisque inculta rubent aviaria bacis.Tondentur cytisi, taedas silva alta ministrat,pascunturque ignes nocturni et lumina fundunt.Et dubitant homines serere atque inpendere curamquid maiora sequar?—salices humilesque genestaeaut illae pecori frondem aut pastoribus umbramSufficiunt saepemque satis et pabula melli—et iuvat undantem buxo spectare Cytorumnaryciaeque picis lucos, iuvat arva viderenon rastris, hominum non ulli obnoxia curae.Ipsae Caucasio steriles in vertice silvae,quas animosi Euri adsidue franguntque feruntque,dant alios aliae fetus, dant utile lignumnavigiis pinus, domibus cedrumque cupressosque.Hinc radios trivere rotis, hinc tympana plaustrisagricolae et pandas ratibus posuere carinas,viminibus salices fecundae, frondibus ulmi,at myrtus validis hastilibus et bona bellocornus, Ituraeos taxi torquentur in arcus.Nec tiliae leves aut torno rasile buxumnon formam accipiunt ferroque cavantur acuto.Nec non et torrentem undam levis innatat alnus,missa Pado; nec non et apes examina conduntcorticibusque cavis vitiosaeque ilicis alvo.Quid memorandum aeque Baccheia dona tuleruntBacchus et ad culpam causas dedit; ille furentiscentauros leto domuit, Rhoetumque Pholumqueet magno Hylaeum Lapithis cratere minantem.
Oh! all too happy tillers of the soil,Could they but know their blessedness, for whomFar from the clash of arms all-equal earthPours from the ground herself their easy fare!What though no lofty palace portal-proudFrom all its chambers vomits forth a tideOf morning courtiers, nor agape they gazeOn pillars with fair tortoise-shell inwrought,Gold-purfled robes, and bronze from Ephyre;Nor is the whiteness of their wool distainedWith drugs Assyrian, nor clear olive's useWith cassia tainted; yet untroubled calm,A life that knows no falsehood, rich enowWith various treasures, yet broad-acred ease,Grottoes and living lakes, yet Tempes cool,Lowing of kine, and sylvan slumbers soft,They lack not; lawns and wild beasts' haunts are there,A youth of labour patient, need-inured,Worship, and reverend sires: with them from earthDeparting justice her last footprints left.
O fortunatos nimium, sua si bona norint,agricolas! quibus ipsa procul discordibus armisfundit humo facilem victum iustissima tellus.Si non ingentem foribus domus alta superbismane salutantum totis vomit aedibus undam,nec varios inhiant pulchra testudine postisinlusasque auro vestes Ephyreiaque aera,alba neque Assyrio fucatur lana venenonec casia liquidi corrumpitur usus olivi:at secura quies et nescia fallere vita,dives opum variarum, at latis otia fundis—speluncae vivique lacus et frigida Tempemugitusque boum mollesque sub arbore somni—non absunt; illic saltus ac lustra ferarumet patiens operum exiguoque adsueta iuventus,sacra deum sanctique patres; extrema per illosiustitia excedens terris vestigia fecit.
Me before all things may the Muses sweet,Whose rites I bear with mighty passion pierced,Receive, and show the paths and stars of heaven,The sun's eclipses and the labouring moons,From whence the earthquake, by what power the seasSwell from their depths, and, every barrier burst,Sink back upon themselves, why winter-sunsSo haste to dip 'neath ocean, or what checkThe lingering night retards. But if to theseHigh realms of nature the cold curdling bloodAbout my heart bar access, then be fieldsAnd stream-washed vales my solace, let me loveRivers and woods, inglorious. Oh for youPlains, and Spercheius, and Taygete,By Spartan maids o'er-revelled! Oh, for one,Would set me in deep dells of Haemus cool,And shield me with his boughs' o'ershadowing might!Happy, who had the skill to understandNature's hid causes, and beneath his feetAll terrors cast, and death's relentless doom,And the loud roar of greedy Acheron.Blest too is he who knows the rural gods,Pan, old Silvanus, and the sister-nymphs!Him nor the rods of public power can bend,Nor kingly purple, nor fierce feud that drivesBrother to turn on brother, nor descentOf Dacian from the Danube's leagued flood,Nor Rome's great State, nor kingdoms like to die;Nor hath he grieved through pitying of the poor,Nor envied him that hath. What fruit the boughs,And what the fields, of their own bounteous willHave borne, he gathers; nor iron rule of laws,Nor maddened Forum have his eyes beheld,Nor archives of the people. Others vexThe darksome gulfs of Ocean with their oars,Or rush on steel: they press within the courtsAnd doors of princes; one with havoc fallsUpon a city and its hapless hearths,From gems to drink, on Tyrian rugs to lie;This hoards his wealth and broods o'er buried gold;One at the rostra stares in blank amaze;One gaping sits transported by the cheers,The answering cheers of plebs and senate rolledAlong the benches: bathed in brothers' bloodMen revel, and, all delights of hearth and homeFor exile changing, a new country seekBeneath an alien sun. The husbandmanWith hooked ploughshare turns the soil; from henceSprings his year's labour; hence, too, he sustainsCountry and cottage homestead, and from henceHis herds of cattle and deserving steers.No respite! still the year o'erflows with fruit,Or young of kine, or Ceres' wheaten sheaf,With crops the furrow loads, and bursts the barns.
Me vero primum dulces ante omnia Musae,quarum sacra fero ingenti percussus amore,accipiant caelique vias et sidera monstrent,defectus solis varios lunaeque labores;unde tremor terris, qua vi maria alta tumescantobicibus ruptis rursusque in se ipsa residant,quid tantum Oceano properent se tinguere soleshiberni, vel quae tardis mora noctibus obstet.Sin, has ne possim naturae accedere partis,frigidus obstiterit circum praecordia sanguis:rura mihi et rigui placeant in vallibus amnes,flumina amem silvasque inglorius. O ubi campiSpercheosque et virginibus bacchata LacaenisTaygeta! O, qui me gelidis convallibus Haemisistat et ingenti ramorum protegat umbra!Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas,atque metus omnis et inexorabile fatumsubiecit pedibus strepitumque Acherontis avari.Fortunatus et ille, deos qui novit agrestis,panaque Silvanumque senem Nymphasque sorores:illum non populi fasces, non purpura regumflexit et infidos agitans discordia fratresaut coniurato descendens Dacus ab Histro,non res Romanae perituraque regna; neque illeaut doluit miserans inopem aut invidit habentiquos rami fructus, quos ipsa volentia rurasponte tulere sua, carpsit; nec ferrea iurainsanumque forum aut populi tabularia vidit.sollicitant alii remis freta caeca ruuntquein ferrum, penetrant aulas et limina regum;hic petit excidiis urbem miserosque Penatis,ut gemma bibat et Sarrano dormiat ostro;condit opes alius defossoque incubat auro;hic stupet attonitus rostris; hunc plausus hiantemper cuneos—geminatus enim plebisque patrumque—corripuit; gaudent perfusi sanguine fratrum,exsilioque domos et dulcia limina mutantatque alio patriam quaerunt sub sole iacentem.Agricola incurvo terram dimovit aratro:hinc anni labor, hinc patriam parvosque nepotessustinet, hinc armenta boum meritosque iuvencos.Nec requies, quin aut pomis exuberet annusaut fetu pecorum aut cerealis mergite culmi,proventuque oneret sulcos atque horrea vincat.
Winter is come: in olive-mills they bruiseThe Sicyonian berry; acorn-cheeredThe swine troop homeward; woods their arbutes yield;So, various fruit sheds Autumn, and high upOn sunny rocks the mellowing vintage bakes.Meanwhile about his lips sweet children cling;His chaste house keeps its purity; his kineDrop milky udders, and on the lush green grassFat kids are striving, horn to butting horn.Himself keeps holy days; stretched o'er the sward,Where round the fire his comrades crown the bowl,He pours libation, and thy name invokes,Lenaeus, and for the herdsmen on an elmSets up a mark for the swift javelin; theyStrip their tough bodies for the rustic sport.Such life of yore the ancient Sabines led,Such Remus and his brother: Etruria thus,Doubt not, to greatness grew, and Rome becameThe fair world's fairest, and with circling wallClasped to her single breast the sevenfold hills.Ay, ere the reign of Dicte's king, ere men,Waxed godless, banqueted on slaughtered bulls,Such life on earth did golden Saturn lead.Nor ear of man had heard the war-trump's blast,Nor clang of sword on stubborn anvil set.
Venit hiems: teritur Sicyonia baca trapetis,glande sues laeti redeunt, dant arbuta silvae;et varios ponit fetus autumnus et altemitis in apricis coquitur vindemia saxis.Interea dulces pendent circum oscula nati,casta pudicitiam servat domus, ubera vaccaelactea demittunt pinguesque in gramine laetointer se adversis luctantur cornibus haedi.Ipse dies agitat festos fususque per herbam,ignis ubi in medio et socii cratera coronant,te libans, Lenaee, vocat pecorisque magistrisvelocis iaculi certamina ponit in ulmo,corporaque agresti nudant praedura palaestrae.Hanc olim veteres vitam coluere Sabini,hanc Remus et frater, sic fortis Etruria crevitscilicet et rerum facta est pulcherrima Roma,septemque una sibi muro circumdedit arces.Ante etiam sceptrum Dictaei regis et anteinpia quam caesis gens est epulata iuvencis,aureus hanc vitam in terris Saturnus agebat;necdum etiam audierant inflari classica, necduminpositos duris crepitare incudibus enses.
But lo! a boundless space we have travelled o'er;'Tis time our steaming horses to unyoke.
Sed nos inmensum spatiis confecimus aequor,et iam tempus equum fumantia solvere colla.