Friday, November 29, 2019

Let Each One Sing of Whomever They Love; Nemesianus Eclog. IV

***For a Lesson Plan on teaching this text, click here***

Populea Lycidas nec non et Mopsus in umbra
pastores, calamis ac versu doctus uterque
nec triviale sonans, proprios cantabat amores.
Nam Mopso Meroe, Lycidae crinitus Iollas
ignis erat; parilisque furor de dispare sexu
cogebat trepidos totis discurrere silvis
hos puer ac Meroe multum lusere furentes,
dum modo condictas vitant in vallibus ulmos
nun fagos placitas fugiunt promissaque fallunt
antra nec est animus solitos alludere fontes.
Cum tandem fessi, quos dirus adederat ignis,
sic sua desertis nudarunt vulnera silvis
inque vicem dulces cantu luxere querellas.


Mopsus: Immitis Meroe rapidisque fugacior Euris,
cur nostros calamos, cur pastoralia vitas
carmina? Quemve fugis? Quae me tibi gloria victo?
Quid vultu mentem premis ac spem fronte serenas?
Tandem, dura, nega: possum non velle negantem.

CANTET, AMAT QUOD QUISQUE: LEVANT ET CARMINA CURAS.

LYCIDAS: Respice me tandem, puer, o crudelis Iolla.
Non hoc semper eris: perdunt et gramina flores,
perdit spina rosas nec semper lilia candent
nec longum tenet uva comas nec populus umbras:
donum forma breve est nec se quod commodet annis.
CANTET, AMAT QUOD QUISQUE: LEVANT ET CARMINA CURAS.



MOPSUS: Cerva marem sequitur, taurum formosa iuvenca
et Venerem sensere lupae, sensere leaenae
et genus aerium volucres et squamea turba
et montes silvaeque suos habet arbor amores:
tu tamen una fugis, miserum tu prodis amantem
CANTET, AMAT QUOD QUISQUE: LEVANT ET CARMINA CURAS.



LYCIDAS: Omnia tempus alit, tempus rapit: usus in arto est.
Ver erat, et vitulos vidi sub matribus istos,
qui nunc pro nivea coiere in cornua vacca.
Et tibi iam tumidae nares et fortia colla
iam tibi bis denis numerantur messibus anni.
CANTAT, AMAT QUOD QUISQUE: LEVANT ET CARMINA CURAS.

MOPSUS: Huc, Meroe formosa, veni: vocat aestus in umbram.
Iam pecudes subiere nemus iam nulla canoro
gutture cantat avis, torto non squamea tractu
signat humum serpens. Solus cano: Me sonat omnis
silva, nec aestivis cantu concedo cicadis.
CANTAT, AMAT QUOD QUISQUE: LEVANT ET CARMINA CURAS.

LYCIDAS: Tu quoque, saeve puer, niveum ne perde colorem
sole sub hoc: solet hic lucentes urere malas.
Hic age, pampinea mecum requiesce sub umbra:
hic tibi lene fluens fons murmurat, hic et ab ulmis purpureae fetis dependent vitibus uvae
CANTET, AMAT QUOD QUISQUE: LEVANT ET CARMINA CURAS.


MOPSUS: Qui tulerit Meroes fastidia lenta superbae,
Sithonias feret ille nives Libyaeque calorem
Nerinas potabit aquas taxique nocentis
non metuet sucos, Sardorum gramina vincet
et iuga Marmaricos coget sua ferre leones.
CANTET, AMAT QUOD QUISQUE: LEVANT ET CARMINA CURAS.


LYCIDAS: Quisquis amat pueros, ferro praecordia duret,
nil properet discatque diu patienter amare
prudentesque animos teneris non spernat in annis,
perferat et fastus. Sic olim gaudia sumet,
si modo sollicitos aliquis deus audit amantes.
CANTET, AMAT QUOD QUISQUE: LEVANT ET CARMINA CURAS.



--Nemesianus, Eclogues IV

Two shepherds, Lycidas and Mopsus, both skilled in panpipes and song,
were lounging in a poplar grove, singing in disharmony.
Both were singing of their own true love:
for Mopsus burned for the lady Meroe,
and Lycidas burned for luscious-locked lad Iollas.
Their same level of passion for different sexes
made them wander the forests anxiously.
Meroe and Iollas [puer] mocked these poets for their passion,
avoiding the elm groves in the valleys, fleeing the beech trees,
the caves they were accustomed to make out in,
the peaceful fountains, standing up their dates,
leaving both poets forlorn and alone.
Finally tired of being treated this way
and consumed by their unrequited fiery passion,
the poets aired out their grievances,
singing in turn their own sweet complaints:

MOPSUS: Hard-hearted Meroe, more elusive than the swift East Wind,
why do you avoid my panpipes, why do you avoid my shepherd's songs?
Or whom are you avoiding?
What pride do you take in completely destroying me?
Why do you hide your thoughts with your poker-face, putting hope upon your brow?
Hard-hearted one, stop leading me on!
I can learn to stop wanting you.
Let each one sing of whomever they love;
songs can lighten the heartache.

LYCIDAS: O Iollas, O cruel boy, won't you see me as more than a friend?
You will not be in demand forever;
Flowers lose their blossoms, thorns lose their roses;
lillies do not keep their color for long.
Grapevines do not hold their leaves forever,
poplar trees will lose their luscious shade:
the gift of beauty is brief, and is not found in old age.
Let each one sing of whomever they love;
songs can lighten the heartache.

MOPSUS: The doe in heat chases after the buck,
the pretty cow in heat pursues the bull;
even she-wolves feel the pull of desire [Venerem].
Even lionesses, flocks of birds and creepy-crawly scaly things,
even the trees sense love!
The mountains and forests resound with love.
You alone refuse love's call,
you have betrayed your wretched lover [amantem].
Let each one sing of whomever they love,
songs can lighten the heartache.

LYCIDAS: Time grows all things,
but time also takes them away:
Enjoyment exists for a short time.
It used to be springtime:
There used to be little calves sucking the milk from their mother.
Now they ram each other, fully grown, with their stubby horns
over the mating call of a young white heifer. 
You, cow like, with your flaring nostrils and proud neck
have already counted twenty harvests [i.e., twenty years old].
Let each one sing of whomever they love,
songs can lighten the heartache.

MOPSUS: Beautiful Meroe, please come back!
The heat of the day calls you into the shade.
The flocks are moseying into the groves;
no bird sings its lovely songs,
the serpent leaves no traces on the ground with its movement.
I alone am singing! The whole forest echoes my tunes,
not even the summertime crickets compete with my voice.
Let each one sing of whomever they love; songs can lighten the heartache.

LYCIDAS: You too, hard-hearted youth, don't ruin your perfect complexion
under this torrid sun: the cruel sun is used to burning such fair cheeks.
Come on, now, rest with me under the shade of these vines.
Over here there is a gentle fountain bubbling softly,
over here purple grapes hang down from the elm branches they cling to.
Let each one sing of whomever they love; songs can lighten the heartache.

MOPSUS: The man who endures haughty Meroe's abuse
can also endure Balkan snows,
can endure the heat of the African sun,
can drink sea water.
That man is not afraid of poisonous tree sap,
he can overpower the wild pastures of Gaul,
and can yoke savage African lions  together for his chariot.
Let each one sing of whomever they love; songs can lighten the heartache.

LYCIDAS: Whoever loves guys, let him be ready with a heart of steel.
Let him not be hasty, but let him learn to love with patience.
Let him heed the voice of wisdom in his youth,
let him learn to endure the hatred of others.
Let him do these things so one day he will find his joy,
if only some god will listen to his worried lover's prayers.
Let each one sing of whomever they love; songs can lighten the heartache.



No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.