Horace has a friend, Hirpinus, who felt a bit down: pressures on the
Roman borders, middle aged with all its troubles etc. and for that reason he
can’t enjoy life. `Your youth won’t come back’ says Horace,`just enjoy life as
it is and let us lie down under some tree with a jar of wine.’
Commentators assume that we must imagine the whole scene as taking
place in the garden of Hirpinus. We don’t know who he is, despite the full page
Nisbet and Hubbard devote to his identification, but from epistle 1.16 it
appears that he is a wealthy man. For that reason the question: `which slave
will bring us water for mixing the wine?’ is fair enough, but then follows
`who will bring us the whore
Lyde?’ For whore Horace uses the word scortum,
but the name Lyde has associations with a hetaere,
a luxury call-girl. Does Horace mean that at their age the lascivas amores (playful love affairs) are over and they have to resort
to a prostitute? Thus far there is some hedonism in this poem: garlands of
roses, exquisite unguent and a slave, but it also alludes to a pastoral setting.
The last question is in my opinion over the top: a hetaere is called a whore
and asked to come with an ivory lyre, but with a simple hair dress. This gives
an ironical twist to the whole previous part of the poem. If I am right, then
we should read this poem as ironical and a bit teasing.
Anyway, it is outside well over 30 degrees and I wish I could join
these men under their tree, with or without Lyde!
Meter: Alcaic : u
- u - u | - u u - u -
u - u - u | - u u - u -
u - u - u - u - u
- u u - u u - u - u
Horace, Odes 2.9
Quid bellicosus Cantaber et Scythes,
Hirpine Quincti, cogitet Hadria
diuisus obiecto, remittas
quaerere nec trepides in
usum
poscentis aeui pauca: fugit retro 5
leuis iuuentas et decor, arida
pellente lasciuos amores
canitie facilemque
somnum.
Cantaber: the Cantabri were a
warlike tribe in Spain
Hadria diuisus obiecto: divided (from us) by the Adrian sea (masculine!) opposed (to the
Scythe)
remittas quaerere: stop to seek
nec trepides in usum poscentis
aeui pauca: and do not be anxious about the needs of a
life demanding little.
posco poposci: to ask, demand
leuis iuuentas: smooth-faced youth
decor, -oris (m): beauty (note the contrast with arida.)
arida pellente caniete: abl.abs. (As scanty greyness (canietes
, f.) is driving away etc.)
aridus: dry, arid, scanty
pello pepuli pulsum: to drive away
lasciuos amores: playful love affaires
facilemque somnum: as youth has no worries!
Non semper idem floribus est honor
uernis neque uno luna rubens nitet 10
uoltu: quid aeternis
minorem
consiliis animum fatigas?
semper: both with est and nitet
floribus honor uernis: grace by means of spring
flowers
neque uno luna rubens nitet
uoltu: nor shines the blushing moon always with the
same face (The whole sentence alludes to the transience of life.)
quid aeternis minorem consiliis animum fatigas: This sentence combines two meanings 1) Why do you weary your
rather limited mind with deliberations about eternity (or: eternal
deliberations) and 2) Why do you weary
your mind, which is less than the deliberations of eternity. Of course this is impossible
to combine in a translation!
Cur non sub alta uel platano uel hac
pinu iacentes sic temere et rosa
canos odorati
capillos, 15
dum licet, Assyriaque
nardo
potamus uncti? dissipat Euhius
curas edaces. Quis puer ocius
restinguet ardentis
Falerni
pocula praetereunte
lympha? 20
platanus (f.): platane tree
pinus (f.): pine tree
sic temere: just for fun, for pleasure, without plan
rosa canos odorati capillos: smelling as regarding to our grey hair (capillos: acc. of respect) of roses (rosa: singular for plural. A garland of roses is meant.)
dum licet: as long as it is still possible
nardus (f): nard-oil, made from the nardus-tree
poto: to drink, booze
ungo/unguo unxi unctum: to smear, anoint
dissipo: to scatter, disperse
Euhius: Bacchus (from the Greek euoi,
the cry used to invoke Bacchus.)
edax edacis: consuming (from the root ed
`to eat’.)
Quis puer ocius restinguet
ardentis Falerni pocula praetereunte lympha?: which
slave will quickly extinguish the bowls of burning Falernian wine with water
streaming by? (Wine was normally mixed with water.)
Quis deuium scortum eliciet domo
Lyden? Eburna dic, age, cum lyra
maturet, in comptum
Lacaenae
more comas religata
nodum.
Quis deuium scortum eliciet
domo Lyden: who will entice out of her house Lyde, the
privately working whore?
devius: litt.`out of the way’ , but in this context it means something
different: the name Lyde refers to a hetaere (a luxury call-girl), who did
not prostitute in a public brothel, but who had to be sent for.
scortum: whore (Its primary meaning is `skin, hide’. How this developed
into `whore’ is unclear to me, but I remember that I have once seen a reference
to an article about this question by the German philologist W. Kroll from the
1925 or so. Normally he wrote in German, but for this occasion he used Latin….)
eburna lyra: hetaerae were not simply for sex, but also had to divert men with
music and dance. In this respect they can be compared with Japanese geishas.
maturo: to hasten (maturet because
it is an oblique question)
in comptum Lacaenae more
comas religata nodum: I take the reading in comptum for incomptum and religata as
a middle voice `having her hair tied up in a neat (comptum) knot (nodum) in the Spartan manner’ i.e. in a simple way.
XI.
QUID BELLICOSUS.
O, Ask not what those
sons of war,
Cantabrian, Scythian,
each intend,
Disjoin'd from us by
Hadria's bar,
Nor puzzle, Quintius,
how to spend
A life so simple. Youth
removes,
And Beauty too; and
hoar Decay
Drives out the wanton
tribe of Loves
And Sleep, that came or
night or day.
The sweet spring-flowers
not always keep
Their bloom, nor
moonlight shines the same
Each evening. Why with
thoughts too deep
O'ertask a mind of
mortal frame?
Why not, just thrown at
careless ease
'Neath plane or pine,
our locks of grey
Perfumed with Syrian
essences
And wreathed with
roses, while we may,
Lie drinking? Bacchus
puts to shame
The cares that waste
us. Where's the slave
To quench the fierce
Falernian's flame
With water from the
passing wave?
Who'll coax coy Lyde from
her home?
Go, bid her take her
ivory lyre,
The runaway, and haste to
come,
Her wild hair bound
with Spartan tire.
John Conington (1882)
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