Horace, Odes 1.4

Horace, Odes 1.4

Winter is loosed by the welcome change of Zephyr and sharp spring
And they lead down the dried prows on rollers
And nor already does the cow rejoice in its stables or the farmer at his fire,
Nor are the meadows white with hoary snows.
Now Cytherean Venus leads dances under the overhanging moon;
Nymphs and the comely Graces, joined,
Shake the earth with interchanging foot, while ponderous
Burning Vulcan watches over the workshops of the Cyclopes.
Now it is proper that shining head is entwined with either green myrtle,
Or flowers, which the unbound land brings now forth,
And it is right to sacrifice to Faunus in shady groves,
Whether he requests lambs or prefers a kid.
Wan death strikes with equal foot the taverns of paupers
And the towers of kings. O blessed Sestius,
The sum of brief life forbids us to take up great hope.
Soon, night and fabled Manes and sordid house of
Pluto will press upon you; where as soon as you may have passed,
Neither shall you cast lots for sovereignty of wine,
Nor shall you marvel at tender Lycidas, for whom now
Every youth burns, and presently all maidens grow hot.


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