Metamorphoses
Ovid
Ovid. Metamorphoses. More, Brookes, translator. Boston: Cornhill Publishing Co., 1922.
- All present then adored
- the deity as bidden by the priest.
- The multitude repeated his good words,
- and the descendants of Aeneas gave
- good omen, with their feelings and their speech.
- Nodding well pleased and moving his great crest,
- the god at once assured them of his favor
- and hissed repeatedly with darting tongue.
- And then he glided down the polished steps;
- turned back his head; and, ready to depart,
- gazed on the altars he had known for so long—
- a last salute to the temple of his love.
- While all the people strewed his way with flowers,
- the great snake wound in sinuous course along
- and, passing through the middle of their town,
- came to the harbor and its curving wall.
- He stopped there, and it seemed that he dismissed
- his train and dutiful attendant crowd,
- and with a placid countenance he placed
- his mighty body in the Ausonian ship,
- which plainly showed the great weight of the god.
- The glad descendants of Aeneas all
- rejoiced, and they sacrificed a bull beside
- the harbor, wreathed the ship with flowers, and loosed
- the twisted hawsers from the shore. As a soft breeze
- impelled the ship, within her curving stern
- the god reclined, his coils uprising high,
- and gazed down on the blue Ionian waves.
- So wafted by the favoring winds, they came
- in six days to the shores of Italy.
- There he was borne past the Lacinian Cape,
- ennobled by the goddess Juno's shrine,
- and Scylacean coasts. He left behind
- Iapygia; then he shunned Amphrysian rocks
- upon the left and on the other side
- escaped Cocinthian crags. He passed, near by,
- Romechium and Caulon and Naricia;
- crossed the Sicilian sea; went through the strait;
- sailed by Pelorus and the island home
- of Aeolus and by the copper mines
- of Temesa. He turned then toward Leucosia
- and toward mild Paestum, famous for the rose.
- He coasted by Capreae and around
- Minerva's promontory and the hills
- ennobled with Surrentine vines, from there
- to Herculaneum and Stabiae
- and then Parthenope built for soft ease.
- He sailed near the Cumaean Sibyl's temple.
- He passed the Warm Springs and Linternum, where
- the mastick trees grow, and the river called
- Volturnus, where thick sand whirls in the stream,
- over to Sinuessa's snow-white doves;
- and then to Antium and its rocky coast.
- When with all sails full spread the ship came in
- the harbor there (for now the seas grew rough),
- the god uncoiled his folds, and, gliding out
- with sinuous curves and all his mighty length,
- entered the temple of his parent, where
- it skirts that yellow shore. But, when the sea
- was calm again, the Epidaurian god
- departing from his father's shrine, where he
- a while had shared the sacred residence
- reared to a kindred deity, furrowed
- the sandy shore with weight of crackling scales,
- again he climbed into the lofty stern
- and near the rudder laid his head at rest.
- There he remained until the vessel passed
- by Castrum and Lavinium's sacred homes
- to where the Tiber flows into the sea
- there all the people of Rome came rushing out—
- mothers and fathers and even those who tend
- your sacred fire, O Trojan goddess Vesta—
- and joyous shouted welcome to the god.
- Wherever the swift ship steered through the tide,
- they built up many altars in a line,
- so that perfuming frankincense with smoke
- crackled along the banks on either hand,
- and victims made the keen knives hot with blood.
- The serpent-deity has entered Rome,
- the world's new capital and, lifting up
- his head above the summit of the mast,
- looked far and near for a congenial home.
- The river there, dividing, flows about
- a place known as the Island, on both sides
- an equal stream glides past dry middle ground.
- And here the serpent child of Phoebus left
- the Roman ship, took his own heavenly form,
- and brought the mourning city health once more