(no subject)
...waking up, somehow I was thinking about this from yesterday. And also Horace.
Don't ask, Clarice, we're not supposed to know
what end the gods intend for us.
Take my advice: don't gamble so
on horoscopes of Babylon. Far better just
to take what heaven might allot us, whether
it's winters galore, and more, until we're stiff,
or only this one wintertime to end all others,
grinding the Tuscany Sea with its pumice of cliff.
Get wise. Get wine, and one good filter for it.
Cut that high hope down to size, and pour it
into something fit for men. Think less
of more tomorrows, more of this
one second, endlessly unique: it's
jealous, even as we speak, and it's
about to split again...
(Heather McHugh)
Seek not, for thou shalt not find it, what my end, what thine shall be;
Ask not of Chaldaea's science what God wills, Leuconöe:
Better far, what comes, to bear it. Haply many a wintry blast
Waits thee still; and this, it may be, Jove ordains to be thy last,
Which flings now the flagging sea-wave on the obstinate sandstone-reef.
Be thou wise: fill up the wine-cup; shortening, since the time is brief,
Hopes that reach into the future. While I speak, hath stol'n away
Jealous Time. Mistrust To-morrow, catch the blossom of To-day.
(C. S. Calverley)
Don't be too eager to ask
what the gods have in mind for us,
What will become of you,
what will become of me,
What you can read in the cards,
or spell out on the ouija board,
It's better not to know.
Either Jupiter says
This coming winter is not
after all going to be
The last winter you have,
or else Jupiter says
This winter that's coming soon,
eating away the cliffs
Along the Tyrrhenian Sea,
is going to be the final
Winter of all. Be mindful.
Take good care of your household.
The time we have is short.
Cut short your hopes for longer.
Now as I say these words,
Time has already fled
Backwards away--
Leuconoë--
Hold on to the day.
(David Ferry)
Ask not ungainly askings of the end
Gods send us, me and thee, Leucothoë;
Nor juggle with the risks of Babylon,
Better to take whatever,
Several, or last, Jove sends us. Winter is winter,
Gnawing the Tyrrhene cliffs with the sea's tooth.
Take note of flavors, and clarity's in the wine's manifest.
Cut loose long hope for a time.
We talk. Time runs in envy of us,
Holding our day more firm in unbelief.
(Ezra Pound)
Tu ne quaesieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi
finem di dederint, Leuconoë, nec Babylonios
tentaris numeros. ut melius, quidquid erit, pati!
seu plures hiemes seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam,
quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare
Tyrrhenum, sapias, vina liques, et spatio brevi
spem longam reseces. dum loquimur, fugerit invida
aetas: carpe diem quam minimum credula postero.
(Quintus Horatius Flaccus)