Dirae (Curses)

O Battarus, let us repeat the notes of the swan: again let us sing our divided homes and lands — those lands whereon we have pronounced our curses, unholy prayers. Sooner shall kids prey upon wolves, sooner calves upon lions; sooner shall dolphins flee before fishes, sooner eagles before doves, and a world-chaos, again returning, shall burst forth— yea, many things shall befall, sooner than my shepherd's reed shall be enslaved. To the mountains and woods will I tell thy deeds, Lycurgus.

"Unholy and unblest, may Trinacria's joys become barren for thee and thy fellows, and may the fruitful seeds in our old master's rich lands give birth to no corn-crops, the hills to no pastures, the trees to no fresh fruits, the vines to no grapes, the very woods to no leafage, the mountains to no streams!"

Once more and yet again, O Battarus, let us repeat this strain:

"Outworn may the oats of Ceres be that ye bury in the furrows; pale and wan may the meadows become, parched with heat; unripened may the drooping apples fall from the boughs! Let leaves fail the woods, water fail the streams, but let the strain that curses fail not my reeds! May these flowery garlands of Venus, with their varied beauties, which in spring-time paint the fields with brilliant hues (hence, ye sweet breezes: hence, ye fragrant odours of the field!) — may they change to blasting heats and loathsome poisons; may nothing sweet to eyes, nothing sweet to ears be wafted!"

Thus I pray, and in our prayers may these strains abound!

"O thou best of woods, oft sung in our playful songs and verses, thou beauteous in thy wealth of green, thou shalt shear thy green shade: neither shalt thou boast of thy soft boughs' joyous leafage, as the breezes blow among them, nor, O Battarus, shall it oft resound for me with my song. When with his axe the soldier's impious hand shall fell it, and the lovely shadows fall, thyself, more lovely than they, shalt fall, the old owner's happy timber. Yet all for naught! Rather, accursed by our verses, thou shalt burn with heaven's fires. O Jupiter ('twas Jupiter himself nurtured this wood), this must thou turn into ashes! "Then let the strength of the Thracian North blow his mighty blasts; let the East drive a cloud with lurid darkness mixed; let the South-West menace with storm-clouds threatening rain, when thy woodland, gleaming in the dark-blue sky, shall not learn again what thou, O Lydia, hast often uttered! Let neighbouring flames in order seize upon the vines, let the crops become their food, let the blaze in scattered fires wing its way athwart the breezes, and link the corn-ears with the trees! Where the unholy rod measured our fields, where once were our boundaries, let all become ashes!"

Thus I pray, and in our prayers may these strains abound!

"O waves, that with your waters beat the shores; O shores, that o'er the fields scatter sweet breezes, give ear to these cries. Let Neptune with his waves pass to the tilth, and with thick sand cover the fields! Where Vulcan, feeding on the lands, has burned with heaven's fires, be it called a sister of the Libyan sand, a second Syrtis!"

This sadder strain, O Battarus, I remember thou didst recall:

"Many fearsome things, they say, swim in the black sea — monsters that oft-times terrify with forms unlooked for, when suddenly they have reared their bodies from out the raging deep. These hidden things may Neptune chase with threatening trident, on all sides upturning with the winds the murky seasurge, and in his hoary waves swallowing the swarthy ashes! Let my lands be called the savage sea; beware, O sailor, of lands, whereon we have pronounced our curses, unholy prayers!"

If this, O Neptune, we do not pour into thy ears, do thou, O Battarus, consign our sorrows to the streams; for to thee the springs, to thee the streams are ever friendly. No further ruin can I effect; to Dis all belongs of right.

"Turn back your running waters, ye roving streams; turn back, and pour them again over the opposing fields: let brooks from all sides rush in with deep-cleaving waters, nor let them suffer our lands to be enslaved to vagabonds!"

This sweeter strain, O Battarus, I remember thou didst recall:

"Let marshes from parched ground suddenly spring forth, and, where once we gathered corn-ears, let this man reap rushes; let the croaking frog sour the chirping cricket's hollow lairs!"

This sadder strain my pipe gives forth in turn:

"From high mountains let rains rush streaming down, and with outspread flood widely possess the plains; then with menace of evil to their lords let them leave stagnant pools! When the wave, gliding down, reaches my fields, then let the stranger ploughman fish within my bounds — the stranger, who has ever waxed rich through citizens condemned!"

O ye fields accursed, ye that the praetors have condemned! and thou, O Discord, ever the foe of righteous citizens! I, a needy exile, though uncondemned, have left my fields, that a soldier may receive the wages of deadly war. From this mound will I look my last upon my lands; from this will I pass to the woods; soon will the hills, soon will the mountains impede my view, but the plains will be able to hear:

"Sweet lands, farewell! and thou, Lydia, farewell, sweeter than they, and ye, pure fountains, and ye fields of happy name!"

Ah! more slowly come down from the hill, ye poor she-goats: never again shall ye browse on the soft pastures that ye know so well; and do thou, sire of the flock, stay behind! Lo, upon the plains, my first and last possession, I gaze: long must I be reft of them!

"Once more, ye fields, farewell, and fare thee well, good Lydia; whether thou wilt live, or not, in either case thou wilt die with me!"

Our last strain, O Battarus, let us recall on the reed!

"Sweet shall become bitter, and soft hard; eyes shall see white as black, and right as left; atoms of things shall pass into bodies of other kinds, ere regard for thee pass from my heart. Though fire, though water thou shalt be, ever will I love thee, for ever will it be permitted to think upon thy joys!"