(8 December 65 BC – 27 November 8 BC / Italy)

Bki:I The Dedication: To Maecenas

Maecenas, descendant of royal ancestors,
O my protector, and my sweet glory,
some are delighted by showers of dust,
Olympic dust, over their chariots, they
are raised to the gods, as Earth’s masters, by posts
clipping the red-hot wheels, by noble palms:
this man, if the fickle crowd of Citizens
compete to lift him to triple honours:
that one, if he’s stored away in his granary
whatever he gleaned from the Libyan threshing.
The peasant who loves to break clods in his native
fields, won’t be tempted, by living like Attalus,
to sail the seas, in fear, in a Cyprian boat.
The merchant afraid of the African winds as
they fight the Icarian waves, loves the peace
and the soil near his town, but quickly rebuilds
his shattered ships, unsuited to poverty.
There’s one who won’t scorn cups of old Massic,
nor to lose the best part of a whole day lying
under the greenwood tree, or softly
close to the head of sacred waters.
Many love camp, and the sound of trumpets
mixed with the horns, and the warfare hated
by mothers. The hunter, sweet wife forgotten,
stays out under frozen skies, if his faithful
hounds catch sight of a deer, or a Marsian
wild boar rampages, through his close meshes.
But the ivy, the glory of learned brows,
joins me to the gods on high: cool groves,
and the gathering of light nymphs and satyrs,
draw me from the throng, if Euterpe the Muse
won’t deny me her flute, and Polyhymnia
won’t refuse to exert herself on her Lesbian lyre.
And if you enter me among all the lyric poets,
my head too will be raised to touch the stars.

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Comments (2)

another visual clip of the life of 65 B.C. or so in the sporting arenas where racing chariot horses strain to win so their drivers can get all the glory- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ] some are delighted by showers of dust, Olympic dust, over their chariots, they are raised to the gods, as Earth’s masters, by posts clipping the red-hot wheels, by noble palms:
Original Latin text: - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The 'finale' is simply wonderful..: Quod si me lyricis vatibus inseres, 35 sublimi feriam sidera vertice. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I Maecenas atavis edite regibus, o et praesidium et dulce decus meum, sunt quos curriculo pulverem Olympicum collegisse iuvat metaque fervidis evitata rotis palmaque nobilis 5 terrarum dominos evehit ad deos; hunc, si mobilium turba Quiritium certat tergeminis tollere honoribus; illum, si proprio condidit horreo quicquid de Libycis verritur areis. 10 Gaudentem patrios findere sarculo agros Attalicis condicionibus numquam demoveas, ut trabe Cypria Myrtoum pavidus nauta secet mare. Luctantem Icariis fluctibus Africum 15 mercator metuens otium et oppidi laudat rura sui; mox reficit rates quassas, indocilis pauperiem pati. Est qui nec veteris pocula Massici nec partem solido demere de die 20 spernit, nunc viridi membra sub arbuto stratus, nunc ad aquae lene caput sacrae. Multos castra iuvant et lituo tubae permixtus sonitus bellaque matribus detestata. Manet sub Iove frigido 25 venator tenerae coniugis inmemor, seu visa est catulis cerva fidelibus, seu rupit teretis Marsus aper plagas. Me doctarum hederae praemia frontium dis miscent superis, me gelidum nemus 30 Nympharumque leves cum Satyris chori secernunt populo, si neque tibias Euterpe cohibet nec Polyhymnia Lesboum refugit tendere barbiton. Quod si me lyricis vatibus inseres, 35 sublimi feriam sidera vertice.