Translations from Lucretius

Thou mother of the Aenead race, delight

Of men and deities, bountiful Venus, thou

Who under the sky’s gliding constellations

Fillest ship-carrying ocean with thy presence

And the corn-bearing lands, since through thy power

Each kind of living creature is conceived

Then riseth and beholdeth the sun’s light:

Before thee and thine advent the winds and clouds

Of heaven take flight, O goddess: daedal earth

Puts forth sweet-scented flowers beneath thy feet:

Beholding thee the smooth deep laughs, the sky

Grows calm and shines with wide-outspreading light.

For soon as the day’s vernal countenance

Has been revealed, and fresh from wintry bonds

Blows the birth-giving breeze of the West wind,

First do the birds of air give sign of thee,

Goddess, and thine approach, as through their hearts

Thine influence smites. Next the wild herds of beasts

Bound over the rich pastures and swim through

The rapid streams, as captured by thy charm

Each one with eager longing follows thee

Whithersoever thou wouldst lure them on.

And thus through seas, mountains and rushing rivers,

Through the birds’ leafy homes and the green plains,

Striking bland love into the hearts of all,

Thou art the cause that following his lust

Each should renew his race after his kind.

Therefore since thou alone art nature’s mistress,

And since without thine aid naught can rise forth

Into the glorious regions of the light,

Nor aught grow to be gladsome and delectable,

Thee would I win to help me while I write

These verses, wherein I labour to describe

The nature of things in honour of my friend

This scion of the Memmian house, whom thou

Hast willed to be found peerless all his days

In every grace. Therefore the more, great deity,

Grant to my words eternal loveliness:

Cause meanwhile that the savage works of warfare

Over all seas and lands sink hushed to rest.

For thou alone hast power to bless mankind

With tranquil peace; since of war’s savage works

Mavors mighty in battle hath control,

Who oft flings himself back upon thy lap,

Quite vanquished by love’s never-healing wound;

And so with upturned face and shapely neck

Thrown backward, feeds with love his hungry looks,

Gazing on thee, goddess, while thus he lies

Supine, and on thy lips his spirit hangs.

O’er him thus couched upon thy holy body

Do thou bend down to enfold him, and from thy lips

Pour tender speech, petitioning calm peace,

O glorious divinity, for thy Romans.

For nor can we in our country’s hour of trouble

Toil with a mind untroubled at our task,

Nor yet may the famed child of Memmius

Be spared from public service in such times.