Georgics
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- But if the headlong sun
- And moons in order following thou regard,
- Ne'er will to-morrow's hour deceive thee, ne'er
- Wilt thou be caught by guile of cloudless night.
- When first the moon recalls her rallying fires,
- If dark the air clipped by her crescent dim,
- For folks afield and on the open sea
- A mighty rain is brewing; but if her face
- With maiden blush she mantle, 'twill be wind,
- For wind turns Phoebe still to ruddier gold.
- But if at her fourth rising, for 'tis that
- Gives surest counsel, clear she ride thro' heaven
- With horns unblunted, then shall that whole day,
- And to the month's end those that spring from it,
- Rainless and windless be, while safe ashore
- Shall sailors pay their vows to Panope,
- Glaucus, and Melicertes, Ino's child.
- The sun too, both at rising, and when soon
- He dives beneath the waves, shall yield thee signs;
- For signs, none trustier, travel with the sun,
- Both those which in their course with dawn he brings,
- And those at star-rise. When his springing orb
- With spots he pranketh, muffled in a cloud,
- And shrinks mid-circle, then of showers beware;
- For then the South comes driving from the deep,
- To trees and crops and cattle bringing bane.
- Or when at day-break through dark clouds his rays
- Burst and are scattered, or when rising pale
- Aurora quits Tithonus' saffron bed,
- But sorry shelter then, alack I will yield
- Vine-leaf to ripening grapes; so thick a hail
- In spiky showers spins rattling on the roof.
- And this yet more 'twill boot thee bear in mind,
- When now, his course upon Olympus run,
- He draws to his decline: for oft we see
- Upon the sun's own face strange colours stray;
- Dark tells of rain, of east winds fiery-red;
- If spots with ruddy fire begin to mix,
- Then all the heavens convulsed in wrath thou'lt see—
- Storm-clouds and wind together. Me that night
- Let no man bid fare forth upon the deep,
- Nor rend the rope from shore. But if, when both
- He brings again and hides the day's return,
- Clear-orbed he shineth,idly wilt thou dread
- The storm-clouds, and beneath the lustral North
- See the woods waving. What late eve in fine
- Bears in her bosom, whence the wind that brings
- Fair-weather-clouds, or what the rain South
- Is meditating, tokens of all these
- The sun will give thee. Who dare charge the sun
- With leasing? He it is who warneth oft
- Of hidden broils at hand and treachery,
- And secret swelling of the waves of war.