Thursday, November 29, 2007
And now, for The Odes of Horace
I'm feeling a little weepy this evening and needed a good image for my brain. This has been one of my favorites for the winter season. A fitting reminder that, though things may look bleak, there is always cheer to be had. I nearly added it to my Christmas letter last season...
Book 1, chapter nine
Behold how tall Soracte looms, and how white!
No longer can the laboring forests hold
Their snowy burden; streams are frozen,
Locked in the grip of the piercing coldness.
Dispel the chill air, piling the great logs high
Upon the hearth; unstintingly now bring forth
And pour the mellow, four-year vintage,
O Thaliarchus, from Sabine wine jar.
Leave to the gods the rest, for when they have stilled
The warring winds that battle upon the sea
The cypress is no longer shaken,
No longer vexed are the aged ash trees.
Whate'er tomorrow holds, shun to question now,
And what the day will bring, what of chance or gain,
Set down to profit; now in boyhood
Spurn not sweet loves or the youthful dances,
While from your bloom cantankerous age stands off.
Now 'neath the falling dusk, at the trysting hour
Again, again through field and courtyard
Let the soft whispers be still repeated.
Learn a bit more here.