I awoke with the horror of yesterday still with me, and decided to introduce something I was helping a friend with at lunch. He vaguely remembered his Latin, and wanted to learn a poem. I suggested Horace, and here it is with lots of help. The meter is complicated but it is essentially three longs, then two shorts, then long, short and indeterminate. Just try to hold the syllables with two consonants after a vowel longer than the others. Just read along naturally, that is. The language of this ode is so sensual. Note how all the sensations bombard by virtue of the various words that are in grammatical agreement standing on either side of the couple. The boy and girl locked together (te puer), he’s slim, he’s surrounded in roses, he’s drenched in perfume, and when she’s named, it’s the same line as ‘down in the cave.’ and when he’s pressing himself upon her ‘urget’ the verb is set in the middle of liquidis odoribus, perfume is all around him and her. Later on the poet says the boy enjoys you, Pyrrha, ‘fruor’ gets his pleasure from, the verb to me has that slight hint of the sexual pleasure that comes to each of us from our use of another, and at the same time with the line ending in credulus aurea, you have the sense of his basic confidence in his possession of her, as well as his belief in her high value ‘golden,’ and all the while thinks he has her sewed up tight for him ‘semper vacuam,’ ,‘always vacant,’ like a rental unit, she’s available just for him, typical male concern, and with that settled, rest of the line falls into place ‘always lovable,’ and that might not be what he would think to say if he wasn’t sure of her fidelity first. But the male psyche takes over and the poet warns storm clouds a-brewing. The sound of the Latin is glorious, the magic of the inextricable word order, the words all of them, like the boy and girl, locked together by their word endings and syntax. Wow!
Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa
perfusus liquidis urget odoribus
grato, Pyrrha, sub antro?
cui flauam religas comam,
simplex munditiis? Heu quotiens fidem 5
mutatosque deos flebit et aspera
nigris aequora uentis
emirabitur insolens,
qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea,
qui semper uacuam, semper amabilem 10
sperat, nescius aurae
fallacis. Miseri, quibus
intemptata nites. Me tabula sacer
uotiua paries indicat uuida
suspendisse potenti
uestimenta maris deo.
What slim boy [gracilis puer]
with roses all around him [multa in rosa]
drenched in perfume [perfusus liquidis odoribus]
is at you, [te urget]
Pyrrha,
down in some pleasant cave? [grato sub antro]
For whom did you tie up that golden hair [cui flavam religas comam]
simply done, but, oh, so elegant [simplex munditiis]
Poor guy, how many times [heu quotiens]
will he be in tears at [your idea of] fidelity [fidem flebit]
at how the gods have turned [against him] [mutatos deos]
and stare at the seas rough [et aspera aequora]
from dark winds [nigris ventis emirabitur]
just not used to this? [insolens]
who now enjoys you, trusts you, golden girl [qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea]
who trusts you always will be ready for him [qui semper vacuam sperat]
always a sweetheart [semper amabilem]
totally ignorant of that treacherous wind [nescious aurae falllacis]
All those poor guys for whom you turn on the charm [Miseri, quibus nites]
yet haven’t let get that close. [intemptata]
But the sacred wall shows [sacer paries indicat]
on a votive plaque [tabula votiva]
me having hung up my clothes [me suspendisse vestimenta]
soaked by the powerful god of the sea. [uuida [potenti maris deo]
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