Horace 3.26

Linzy Higgins

Recently to live suitable to the girl
And to serve as a soldier is not without glory
Now to be done with arms and war
The lyre will hold this as a wall.

But now I shall give Venus
My lyre and arms
No longer while living for me
Now I am done with mighty battles

Oh Queen Venus, However
Take up the stick or lash
I beg of you just one
Lash the supercilious Chloe.

Keith Jasie

Not long ago I had lived well with girls
And I served in them army not with out glory
Now here a wall supports my lyre
And arms discharged by war,

It which guards the left flank of Venus’s sea.
Here, at this place opposite the doors
Put bright wax torches, and a lever,
And the threatening bows.

Oh which goddess you hold wealthy Cyprus,
And Memphis must be denied Thracian snow,
Queen, strike arrogant Chloe once
With a raised whip

Not long ago I lived suitably with a woman
Not without military glory;
Now the wall will hold withered tools of war
As well as my lyre

That which guards the left flank of Venus’ sea,
Here, here put bright wax torches
And the bar and the bow
Threateningly opposite the door

O Goddess you hold wealthy Cyprus
And the Memphin must be denied Thracian snow,
My queen, strike with a lifted whip
Arrogant Chloe a single time

Mat Chamberlain

Not long ago I lived suitably with a woman
Not without military glory;
Now the wall will hold withered tools of war
As well as my lyre

That which guards the left flank of Venus’ sea,
Here, here put bright wax torches
And the bar and the bow
Threateningly opposite the door

O Goddess you hold wealthy Cyprus
And the Memphin must be denied Thracian snow,
My queen, strike with a lifted whip
Arrogant Chloe a single time


Rayven Tillman

Lately to live for a girl is suitable and to serve as a soldier not
without glory; now done with weapons and war the lyre will hold these
walls,

He watches the wide seas to the left of Venus. These bright wax torches
and these levers and crowbars hang opposite of the entrances in threat.

Oh fortunate goddess holds Cyprus and Memphin without Threcian snow, a
queen, by means of a raised whip which touches arrogant Chlone one
time.


Sam Siciliano

Recently to live suitable to the girl
And to serve as a solider, which is not glorious
No war should be done with weapons
But rather the soft rhythms of the lyre
To the left the broad sea protects.
There we put a bright wax torch
And here a lever and bow
Standing against the protected entrance

Horace 2.12

Alex Stott

You do not want the soft rhythms of the lyre
to be considered with long wars of savage
Numantia nor the harsh Hannibal nor where
the Sicilian Sea is purple with Punic blood

Nor with the Savage Lipithae and Hylaeus
having been completely plastered and young men
of earth subdued by the hand of Hercules; the shining
house of aged Saturn

trembles under this danger; and you Maecenas,
you will speak better about the battles of Caesar
and the necks of threatening kings having been led along
the road of historical feet.

My muse wishes me to sing sweetly about
the mistress of Licymn and their brightly
shining eyes and her soul faithful for mutual
love

How becoming it is to carry your feet in a chorus
or to compete against in jest or to give the arms,
playing in their festive garment on the sacred day
of Diana where virgins are abound.

Would you wish to exchange the Achaem’s riches
or with fertile Mygdonia of Phrygia or Arabian home
with flowing bounty in exchange for one
Licymn curl.

… last stanza not translated.

Sam Hastings

You do not want the soft rhythm of the lyre
to be associated with the long wars of savage Numantia nor
Harsh Hanibal nor where the Sicilian Sea
is purple with punic blood,

Nor with the savage Lapithae and Hylaeus
having been completely shat-faced and The Youth of the earth
subdued at the hand of Hercules, under which danger
the shinning house

of aged Saturn trembled; And only you,
Maecenas, will speak better of the battles
of Caesar and the necks of threatening kings
having been led through the streets

My Muse wishes for me to sing sweet songs
Of my mistress Licymnia’s bright shinning
eyes and faith in heart
for mutual love,

How becoming it is to carry her feet
in song or to compete in humor or to give
her arms playing in festive robes on the day sacred
to celebrated Dianna with virgins.

Would you wish to exchange the wealth of Achaemenes
with fertile Mygdonia of Phrygia’s strength
or exchange an Arabian home with flowing beauty
for one Licymnian lock,

Does she turn her neck aside from your kisses
with passion or does she deny with playful cruelty?
perhaps you should seize that which she rejoices in and you beg for,
sometimes she waits for it to be taken.

Ellen Hernon

You would not wish to bear a long war with Numantia Nor harsh Hannibal nor the Sicilian Sea
Tainted with purple Punic blood
To fit the soft manner of the lire,
Nor the savage Lapithas and
Hylaeus with his excessive wine or the hand of Hercules
pacifying the sons of the earth, who caused the shining ancient house of Saturn;
you and your historical feet, Maecenas, speak of Caesar’s battles and of bitter kings being lead by their necks through the streets.
The Muse commands this, that I tell of your wife, Licymniae, of her sweet song, brightly gleaming eyes, and persistent soul and so true to loving souls,
Nothing dishonors her, not carrying a band, not throwing her arms in sport in her sacred festival garments of the day of swift Diana.
Not you would want to wish to exchange for all the riches that Achaemenes held, or the fertile Phrygia’s Mygdonian riches or Arabian full houses for a lock of Licymnia’s hair? For whether she turns aside her neck for your burning kisses or easily refuses to take them, she wants to steal them, rather than ask for them, and sometimes she takes them first.

Brent Thibodeau

you should not wish for the long wars of the savage Numantians nor of cruel Hannibal or the sea of Sicily, red with punic blood, to adjust to the peaceful sound of the lute,

nor the ferocious Lapithians and Hylaeus greatly pure and having been defeated by the Herculean fist ,where the households tremble with fear at tremendous danger

And you, honest maecenas, can better articulate the account of caesar’s battles, and threatening kings led by their necks through the streets.

the muse calls me to tell of the songs sung by my sweet licymnia, to talk about her brightly shining eyes and good heart, faithful in mutual love,

tell her to be unashamed dancing (in) the performance or striving for rank
or even lending her arms to bright maidens on the sacred day when (the temple of) Diana is often visited.

Then, would you support wealthy Achaemenes, or fertile Phyrgia’s Migdonian wealth, or Arabian households willing to exchange for just one of Licymnia’s curls to be satisfied,

when she bends her neck to burning kisses, or denies with quick cruelty any such demand, rather to rejoice when snatched away, now and then snatching them for herself?

Bud Martell

You should not wish the long wars of fierce Numantia, nor harsh Hannibal, and not the sea of Sicily purple with the blood of Carthage and fit to the gentle rhythm of the lyre, nor savage lapithas, and Hylaeus drunken with to much wine nor the sons of the earth subdued by youthful hercules’ hand, who threatened the ancient and shining house of Saturn;
You and your historical feet, Maecenas, speak of Caesar’s battles and of bitter kings who are lead by their necks through the streets.
The command of the Muse is this, that I tell your wife, Licymniae, of her sweet song, bright gleaming eyes, and persistent true and loving soul,
Nothing is dishonorable to her, not carrying a band, not throwing her arms in sport in her sacred festival garments of the day of swift Diana.
Nor would you want to wish to exchange for all the riches that Achaemenes held, or the fertile Phrygia’s Mygdonian riches or full Arabian houses for a lock of Licymnia’s hair? For whether she turns her neck aside for your burning kisses or refuses easily to take them, she wants to steal them, rather than ask for them, and sometimes she takes them first.

Horace 3.10

Delilha Luff

You drink from the far away Tanain, Lyce,

Wife of a savage man, nevertheless you

often deplore over me having been spread out before the cruel door
To be exposed to the North Winds.

Do you hear the clatter of that door, and those native woods

Between the beautiful house resounding with

The wInd, and Jupiter freezing snow by
divine will having been placed aside?

Put aside unpleasant disdain for grace,

Do not hasten the wheel of the backwards rope.

The Etruscan parent does not bring forth difficult
Penelopen suitors to you.

O, not as much as you please and neither prayers of affectionate service

Nor love having been stained pale violet

Not the stricken man's mistress of Pieria
Bend to you, suppliants are cheap to you,

Nor yielding as still aesculo (unyielding oak)

Nor as mild as the spirit of the Mauritanian snake.

This body will not always endure the threshold
or divine water.


1 Lyce, if you drank from the Tanain
2 Than you would be wife to a savage man, however you would
3 Weep to throw me before the door stretched outside
4 In the harsh North Wind.
5 Hear how the door is clattering, how the wind
6 Resounds through the beautiful grove sprung from the
7 Roof and Jupiter would freeze the snow having
8 Been placed by pure divinity?
9 Put aside the ungrateful pride for Venus,
10 The wheel must not go running backwards by rope;
11 Father Tuscany does not produce difficult Penelope
12 For you suitors.
13 Oh however, neither affectionate service nor prayers,
14 Nor lovers paleness having been stained violet,
15 Nor husband afflicted by a Pierian mistress,
16 Bends you, you should spare it for your suppliant,
17 Neither is a rigid thing make soft by oak
18 Nor is the soul made softer with African snakes.
19 This side will not always be the threshold
20 To heavenly water and stones.

Ryan Perry

If you were to drink the foreign Don, Lyce, having been married to a savage man, you would cry out that I, stretched out, present myself before the inhabitants of Russia, outside.

Do you hear how your door is creaking, how the grove bellowes back with the winds, so that Juppiter melts the situated snows?

Put the superb ingrate to Venus, so that the line would not go running back behind that chariot. No Tyrrhenian parent begot you, difficult Penelope, with mistresses.

O how no duties, nor prayers, nor pallor colored by the violet of love, nor the mad man with the concubine, Piera, nor that which is softer than ridged oak, or gentler than the serpent sway the heart, may you refrain from your begging.

This will not always be the threshold, or the enduring heavenly rains.


Ryan Perry #2

If you were to drink the foreign Don, Lyce, having been married to a savage man, you would cry out that I, stretched out, present myself before the inhabitants of Russia, outside.

Do you hear how your door is creaking, how the grove bellowes back with the winds, so that Juppiter melts the situated snows?

Put the superb ingrate to Venus, so that the line would not go running back behind that chariot. No Tyrrhenian parent begot you, difficult Penelope, with mistresses.

O how no duties, nor prayers, nor pallor colored by the violet of love, nor the mad man with the concubine, Piera, nor that which is softer than ridged oak, nor gentler than the Moorish serpent sway the heart, may you refrain from your begging.

This will not always be the suffering side of the threshold or of the heavenly water.

Horace 3.9

Seth Boden

As long as I was pleasing to you
No other youths would give their better arms to your neck
I am more blessed to live than the king of Persia.

As long as you do not have greater flame for another
Or is Lydia after Chloe, Lydia of many names
Was brighter than the Rhea Shiva

Chloe of Thrace now governs me,
Having been skillful in sweet measure and understanding
For whom I would not be afraid to die
If the fates would spare her

Cailais, the son of the Thurian Ornytus burns me
With a mutual torch (love)
For whom I would suffer twice and die
If the fates would spare my surviving youth

What if the previous love returns
And reunites with the bronze yoke those who were once parted
If the blond hair of chloe is shaken off and the door is reopened to Lydia

He is more beautiful than a group of stars
He has more anger and passion than a cork in the Atlantic
With you I would love to live, with you I would willingly die.


Seth Von Alt

MAN: As long as I was dear to you and no superior youth gave his arms to your fair neck,
I thrived more fortunately than the king of Persia.

WOMAN: As long as you did not burn more for another and Lydia did not come after Chloe, I, Lydia, was widely known and lived more famously than Roman Ilia

MAN: Now the Thracian Chloe rules me, knowing of charming manner, skilled at the Lyre,
For her I am not afraid to die, if the fates will spare my beloved and allow her to survive

WOMAN: Callais of the Thurii son of Ornytis scorches me with mutual love
I am ready to die for him twice if the fates spare the boy and let him live

MAN: What if Venus returns as before and compels the separated to join the bronze yolk.
If blonde Chloe is cast out and the door is open to rejected Lydia?

WOMAN: Although he is more handsome than a star,
Although you are lighter than a cork and moodier than the foul tempered Adriatic
I would love to live with you, with you I would gladly


Liz Bennett

1 - As long as I am grateful to you
2 - and no one else is capable
3 - of offering the shining white arm of a young man,
4 - Persia is a lovely, rich kingdom.

5 - As long as my business is not by another way in a higher degree
6 - and not to be Lydia after Chloe,
7 - many are named Lydia
8 - in Rome

9 - I am not Chloe of Thrace,
10 - dear to the skilled rhythm and playing of a lyre
11 - for who is not afraid to die,
12 -

13 - "I burn the torch of love mutually
14 - for Thurina Calais, the son of Ornyti
15 - for who I would die twice over,
16 -

17 - What if our former love
18 - those who are seperated are joined by the yoke
19 - if Chloe's blonde hair can be shaken off
20 -

21 - "You are the door to the heavens,
22 - your cork is light and bad
23 - and inclined to rage,
24 - with you I want to live with, with you I will die willingly.


Miranda and Chelsea

"As long as I was pleasing to you, whatever white arms or neck the
youth was giving was not better, and I flourished with more prosperity
than the King of Persia.

'As long as you had skill with different magic and Lydia was not
behind Chloe, Lydia of many names flourished brighter than Roman
Ilia.'

Now Thracian Chloe rules me, sweetly skilled at measures and
knowing the lyre, for whom I am not afraid to die, if the oracles
spare the surviving soul.

'Thurinis Calais, son of Oryntus, burns me interchangeably by the
torch of love, through whom you should suffer to die twice, if oracles
spare the surviving boy.'

What if Venus returns the former having been separated and brings
them together by the bronze yoke, if blonde Chloe is thrown out and
Lydia opens the door having been thrown back?

'Although she is beautiful as the heavens, you are more easily
raged by the cork and perverse Adriatic Sea; with you I should love to
live, with you I would willingly die.'"

Horace 4.11
A large jar of wine is for me exceeding years; for me is in the garden, Phyllis, surrounding and fastening celery, for me is an abundance of many ivies,

Which shines having tied back the hair; the silver house laughs; the altar surrounded by holy sacred boughs desires sacrificial lamb;

Household hands make haste all at once running constantly for this and that, the boys mixed with the girls; the tip of the flame that whirls trembles dirty smoke.

As always you will have called learned joy from whom the ides must be explained to you, which divide the days of the middle of April as Venus divides the sea,

Deservedly my own birth and my ordinance periodic because from this Maecenas sets in order my on flowing years.

Telephum, whom you are after, the rich girl has overtaken the young man that’s not your kind and playful, she holds him acquainted in agreeable shackles,

Greedy Phaethon is terrified of being burned, and winged weighed down Pegasus presents earthbound rider Bellerophantum,

always follow as you deem worthy and to trust more than it is allowed may you avoid that which is against divine lay, compel now, my love is finished-

Certainly hereafter I will not be in love with another women-learn thoroughly the meter, you return what you call love he diminishes sad care with song.

Horace 3.26

Meter: Alcaic

Vixi puellis nuper idoneus
et militavi non sine
gloria; nunc arma defuntumque bello
barbiton hic paries habebit,

laevum marinae qui Veneris latus
custodit. hic, hic ponite lucida
funalia et vectes et arcus
oppositis foribus minaces.

o quae beatam diva tenes Cyprum et
Memphin carentem Sithonia nive,
regina, sublimi flagello
tange Chloen semel arrogantem.