Metamorphoses

Ovid

Ovid. Metamorphoses. More, Brookes, translator. Boston: Cornhill Publishing Co., 1922.

  1. Nor food nor rest can draw him thence—outstretched
  2. upon the overshadowed green, his eyes
  3. fixed on the mirrored image never may know
  4. their longings satisfied, and by their sight
  5. he is himself undone. Raising himself
  6. a moment, he extends his arms around,
  7. and, beckoning to the murmuring forest; “Oh,
  8. ye aisled wood was ever man in love
  9. more fatally than I? Your silent paths
  10. have sheltered many a one whose love was told,
  11. and ye have heard their voices. Ages vast
  12. have rolled away since your forgotten birth,
  13. but who is he through all those weary years
  14. that ever pined away as I? Alas,
  15. this fatal image wins my love, as I
  16. behold it. But I cannot press my arms
  17. around the form I see, the form that gives
  18. me joy. What strange mistake has intervened
  19. betwixt us and our love? It grieves me more
  20. that neither lands nor seas nor mountains, no,
  21. nor walls with closed gates deny our loves,
  22. but only a little water keeps us far
  23. asunder. Surely he desires my love
  24. and my embraces, for as oft I strive
  25. to kiss him, bending to the limpid stream
  26. my lips, so often does he hold his face
  27. fondly to me, and vainly struggles up.
  28. It seems that I could touch him. 'Tis a strange
  29. delusion that is keeping us apart.
  30. “Whoever thou art, Come up! Deceive me not!
  31. Oh, whither when I fain pursue art thou?
  32. Ah, surely I am young and fair, the Nymphs
  33. have loved me; and when I behold thy smiles
  34. I cannot tell thee what sweet hopes arise.
  35. When I extend my loving arms to thee
  36. thine also are extended me — thy smiles
  37. return my own. When I was weeping, I
  38. have seen thy tears, and every sign I make
  39. thou cost return; and often thy sweet lips
  40. have seemed to move, that, peradventure words,
  41. which I have never heard, thou hast returned.
  42. “No more my shade deceives me, I perceive
  43. 'Tis I in thee—I love myself—the flame
  44. arises in my breast and burns my heart—
  45. what shall I do? Shall I at once implore?
  46. Or should I linger till my love is sought?
  47. What is it I implore? The thing that I
  48. desire is mine—abundance makes me poor.
  49. Oh, I am tortured by a strange desire
  50. unknown to me before, for I would fain
  51. put off this mortal form; which only means
  52. I wish the object of my love away.
  53. Grief saps my strength, the sands of life are run,
  54. and in my early youth am I cut off;
  55. but death is not my bane—it ends my woe.—
  56. I would not death for this that is my love,
  57. as two united in a single soul
  58. would die as one.”
  59. He spoke; and crazed with love,
  60. returned to view the same face in the pool;
  61. and as he grieved his tears disturbed the stream,
  62. and ripples on the surface, glassy clear,
  63. defaced his mirrored form. And thus the youth,
  64. when he beheld that lovely shadow go;
  65. “Ah whither cost thou fly? Oh, I entreat
  66. thee leave me not. Alas, thou cruel boy
  67. thus to forsake thy lover. Stay with me
  68. that I may see thy lovely form, for though
  69. I may not touch thee I shall feed my eyes
  70. and soothe my wretched pains.” And while he spoke
  71. he rent his garment from the upper edge,
  72. and beating on his naked breast, all white
  73. as marble, every stroke produced a tint
  74. as lovely as the apple streaked with red,
  75. or as the glowing grape when purple bloom
  76. touches the ripening clusters.
  77. When as glass
  78. again the rippling waters smoothed, and when
  79. such beauty in the stream the youth observed,
  80. no more could he endure. As in the flame
  81. the yellow wax, or as the hoar-frost melts
  82. in early morning 'neath the genial sun;
  83. so did he pine away, by love consumed,
  84. and slowly wasted by a hidden flame.
  85. No vermeil bloom now mingled in the white
  86. of his complexion fair; no strength has he,
  87. no vigor, nor the comeliness that wrought
  88. for love so long: alas, that handsome form
  89. by Echo fondly loved may please no more.
  90. But when she saw him in his hapless plight,
  91. though angry at his scorn, she only grieved.
  92. As often as the love-lore boy complained,
  93. “Alas!” “Alas!” her echoing voice returned;
  94. and as he struck his hands against his arms,
  95. she ever answered with her echoing sounds.
  96. And as he gazed upon the mirrored pool
  97. he said at last, “Ah, youth beloved in vain!”
  98. “In vain, in vain!” the spot returned his words;
  99. and when he breathed a sad “farewell!” “Farewell!”
  100. sighed Echo too. He laid his wearied head,
  101. and rested on the verdant grass; and those
  102. bright eyes, which had so loved to gaze, entranced,
  103. on their own master's beauty, sad Night closed.
  104. And now although among the nether shades
  105. his sad sprite roams, he ever loves to gaze
  106. on his reflection in the Stygian wave.
  107. His Naiad sisters mourned, and having clipped
  108. their shining tresses laid them on his corpse:
  109. and all the Dryads mourned: and Echo made
  110. lament anew. And these would have upraised
  111. his funeral pyre, and waved the flaming torch,
  112. and made his bier; but as they turned their eyes
  113. where he had been, alas he was not there!
  114. And in his body's place a sweet flower grew,
  115. golden and white, the white around the gold.