The Amores; or, Amours. Ovid

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СКАЧАТЬ my sorrow, in my sober moments, with the wine on table, 342 I myself was witness of your criminality, when you thought I was asleep. I saw you both uttering many an expression by moving your eyebrows; 343 in your nods there was a considerable amount of language. Your eyes were not silent, 344 the table, too, traced over with wine; 345 nor was the language of the fingers wanting; I understood your discourse, 346 which treated of that which it did not appear to do; the words, too, preconcerted to stand for certain meanings. And now, the tables removed, many a guest had gone away; a couple of youths only were there dead drunk. But then I saw you both giving wanton kisses; I am sure that there was billing enough on your part; such, in fact, as no sister gives to a brother of correct conduct, but rather such as some voluptuous mistress gives to the eager lover; such as we may suppose that Phoebus did not give to Diana, but that Venus many a time save to her own dear Mars.

      "What are you doing?" I cried out; "whither are you taking those transports that belong to me? On what belongs to myself, I will lay the hand of a master, 347 These delights must be in common with you and me, and with me and you; but why does any third person take a share in them?"

      This did I say; and what, besides, sorrow prompted my tongue to say; but the red blush of shame rose on her conscious features; just as the sky, streaked by the wife of Tithonus, is tinted with red, or the maiden when beheld by her new-made husband; 348 just as the roses are beauteous when mingled among their encircling lilies; or when the Moon is suffering from the enchantment of her steeds; 349 or the Assyrian ivory 350 which the Mæonian woman has stained, 351 that from length of time it may not turn yellow. That complexion of hers was extremely like to these, or to some one of these; and, as it happened, she never was more beauteous than then. She looked towards the ground; to look upon the ground, added a charm; sad were her features, in her sorrow was she graceful. I had been tempted to tear her locks just as they were, (and nicely dressed they were) and to make an attack upon her tender cheeks.

      When I looked on her face, my strong arms fell powerless; by arms of her own was my mistress defended. I, who the moment before had been so savage, now, as a suppliant and of my own accord, entreated that she would give me kisses not inferior to those given-to my rival. She smiled, and with heartiness she gave me her best kisses; such as might have snatched his three-forked bolts from Jove. To my misery I am now tormented, lest that other person received them in equal perfection; and I hope that those were not of this quality. 352

      Those kisses, too, were far better than those which I taught her; and she seemed to have learned something new. That they were too delightful, is a bad sign; that so lovingly were your lips joined to mine, and mine to yours. And yet, it is not at this alone that I am grieved; I do not only complain that kisses were given; although I do complain as well that they were given; such could never have been taught but on a closer acquaintanceship. I know not who is the master that has received a remuneration so ample.

      ELEGY VI

      He laments the death of the parrot which he had given to Corinna.

      The parrot, the imitative bird 353 sent from the Indians of the East, is dead; come in flocks to his obsequies, ye birds. Come, affectionate denizens of air, and beat your breasts with your wings; and with your hard claws disfigure your delicate features. Let your rough feathers be torn in place of your sorrowing hair; instead of the long trumpet, 354 let your songs resound.

      Why, Philomela, are you complaining of the cruelty of Tereus, the Ismarian tyrant? Surely, that grievance is worn out by its length of years. Turn your attention to the sad end of a bird so prized. It is is a great cause of sorrow, but, still, that so old. All, who poise yourselves in your career in the liquid air; but you, above the rest, affectionate turtle-dove, 360 lament him. Throughout life there was a firm attachment between you, and your prolonged and lasting friendship endured to the end. What the Phocian youth 361 was to the Argive Orestes, the same, parrot, was the turtle-dove to you, so long as it was allowed by fate.

      But what matters that friendship? What the beauty of your rare plumage? What your voice so ingenious at imitating sounds? What avails it that ever since you were given, you pleased my mistress? Unfortunate pride of all birds, you are indeed laid low. With your feathers you could outvie the green emerald, having your purple beak tinted with the ruddy saffron. There was no bird on earth more skilled at imitating sounds; so prettily 362 did you utter words with your lisping notes.

      Through envy, you were snatched away from us: you were the cause of no cruel wars; you were a chatterer, and the lover of peaceful concord. See, the quails, amid all their battles, 363 live on; perhaps, too, for that reason, they become old. With a very little you were satisfied; and, through your love of talking, you could not give time to your mouth for much food. A nut was your food, and poppies the cause of sleep; and a drop of pure water used to dispel your thirst. The gluttonous vulture lives on, the kite, too, that forms its circles in the air, and the jackdaw, the foreboder 364 of the shower of rain. The crow, too, lives on, hateful to the armed Minerva; 366 it, indeed, will hardly die after nine ages. 367 The prattling parrot is dead, the mimic of the human voice, sent as a gift from the ends of the earth. What is best, is generally first carried off by greedy hands; what is worthless, fills its destined numbers. 368 Thersites was the witness of the lamented death of him from Phylax; and now Hector became ashes, while his brothers yet lived.

      Why should I mention the affectionate prayers of my anxious mistress in your behalf; prayers borne over the seas by the stormy North wind? The seventh day was come, 369 that was doomed to give no morrow; and now stood your Destiny, with her distaff all uncovered. And yet your words did not die away, in your faltering mouth; as you died, your tongue cried aloud, "Corinna, farewell!" 370

      At the foot of the Elysian hill 371 a grove, overshaded with dark holm oaks, and the earth, moist with never-dying grass, is green. If there is any believing in matters of doubt, that is said to be the abode of innocent birds, from which obscene ones are expelled. There range far and wide the guiltless swans; the long-lived Phoenix, too, ever the sole bird of its kind. There the bird itself of Juno unfolds her feathers; the gentle dove gives kisses to its loving mate. Received in this home in the groves, amid these the Parrot attracts the guileless birds by his words. 372

      A sepulchre covers his bones; a sepulchre small as his body; on which a little stone has this inscription, well suited to itself: "From this very tomb 377 I may be judged to have been the favorite of my mistress. I had a tongue more skilled at talking than other birds."

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