Ovid's Tristia Freely Rendered
1
Go,little book,make haste away,Go to the joyful victory seat.
I go not with you,I must stay,For by Jove's lightning I was hit.
2
Go,poorly clad and indigent!
Put on your Master's mourning dress,As is befitting banishment,And as commands this time of stress.
3
On you must shine no purple veil To make in violet's blood its show.
Longing and hope without avail Cannot wear joy's exalted glow.
4
In shameful silence hide your name,And let no scent of cedar waft,Nor silver knob shine bright to shame The blackness of your crooked staff.
5
To works by Fortune blessed is due Such decoration,rare and bright.
Only my pain shall mate with you,Only my sorrow's darkest night.
6
Shaggy and rough you may appear,Like one whose hair unkempt hangs down,Not rendered wondrous soft and fair By smoothing block of pumicestone.
7
If darker is your pallid face,It is because by me 'twas stained.
Oh,how my tears have flown apace And hotly down on you have rained.
8
Go,book,and greet those places,greet The hallowed spot so dear to me.
Dreams take me there on pinions fleet Of magic word and fantasy.
9
If someone,seeing you,at last Should find his memory stirred,and pester With questions flying thick and fast Of him who sent you there,your Master;
10
I'm still alivethat you may say,And that I hope for rescue soon,And if my pulse still beats away,It is a mercy,not a boon.
11
If someone asks you further questions,Mind each and every spoken word.
Beware of thoughtless indiscretions,In word and tone be on your guard.
12
Many will scold you and berate you,Reminding you I was to blame.
As my accomplice they will rate you,You will cast down your eyes in shame.
13
To insults and to condemnation Listen,but keep your mouth closed tight.
Fire will not quench a conflagration,Two wrongs will never make a right.
14
Yet some there'll be,as you will find,Who speak to you with melting sighs.
A flow of gentle tears will blind The light of longing in their eyes.
15
Then tender words will flow and mild Forth from the bosom agitated.
"Could Caesar but be reconciled,The punishment be mitigated...."
16
Who says with kind solicitude,"May God be merciful on high,"
For him I pray with gratitude,"May thunder ever pass him by!"
17
Would his desire might be fulfilled:
Oh,let me die there in that seat Which the Gods in their keeping hold.
May Caesar's lightning lose its heat!
18
When thus my greetings you've conveyed.
They may lay charges at my door That no sweet form has been displayed,And that my spirit fails to soar.
19
But let the critic be aware During what times the work was done,And if his judgment's sound and fair,You need not fearthe danger's gone.
20
For poetry's magic fullness flows Out of a breast stirred with elation,But oh,a pall of darkest woes Covers the brow,kills inspiration.
21
And then his lyrics all bewail The singer's exile,harsh and dread,And storm,and sea,and winter flail Around his allunheeding head!
22
Fear must not clutch with icy grip If splendid song is to be heard,A lonely outcast here,I weep
Look,yonder gleams the murdersword!
23
Whatever I have so far done Has won the fairer critic round,And he will pass my message on,Bearing my grievous plight in mind.
24
Give me Maeonides,for one,(Homer)
Plunge him in misery,like me,His magic powers will be gone,Danger is all his eyes will see.
25
Go,book,go forth upon your way,Heed not the voice of evil fame.
If scornful folk cast you away,Do not be overwhelmed by shame.
26
'Tis not that Fortune's gentle waves Bear me so lovingly along That praise or prize my spirit craves,That I seek recompense for song.
27
When with desire I still was bedded,Then inspiration welled in me,To thirst for glory I was fettered,The world's race for celebrity.
28
But if the Lyre sounds as before,And if the urge still burns as strong,Surely my heart need ask no more,Seeing my downfall came from song?
29
Goit is not prohibited That you should see Rome's pomp for me.
If only I might go instead,Watched by a God indulgently!
30
Do not imagine that you'll wend Your way unrecognised through Rome,That to the public you will bend Your steps unheeded and unknown.
31
Though you lack title,witnesses,Your colour will betray your name.
If you deny me nonetheless,You'll show yourself up just the same.
32
Slip quietly through the gates and watch My songs inflict on you no hurt.
No more they sing love's praises which So much delight the drunken heart.
