#LatinForTheDay – 1 March #Tibullus
“Memnona si mater, mater ploravit Achillem,
et tangunt magnas tristia fata deas,
flebilis indignos, Elegia, solve capillos!
a, nimis ex vero nunc tibi nomen erit!—
ille tui vates operis, tua fama, Tibullus...
“Memnona si mater, mater ploravit Achillem,
et tangunt magnas tristia fata deas,
flebilis indignos, Elegia, solve capillos!
a, nimis ex vero nunc tibi nomen erit!—
ille tui vates operis, tua fama, Tibullus...
"...ardet in extructo, corpus inane, rogo.
ecce, puer Veneris fert eversamque pharetram
et fractos arcus et sine luce facem;
adspice, demissis ut eat miserabilis alis
pectoraque infesta tundat aperta manu!
excipiunt lacrimas sparsi per colla capilli,...
ecce, puer Veneris fert eversamque pharetram
et fractos arcus et sine luce facem;
adspice, demissis ut eat miserabilis alis
pectoraque infesta tundat aperta manu!
excipiunt lacrimas sparsi per colla capilli,...
"...oraque singultu concutiente sonant.
fratris in Aeneae sic illum funere dicunt
egressum tectis, pulcher Iule, tuis;
nec minus est confusa Venus moriente Tibullo,
quam iuveni rupit cum ferus inguen aper.”
Ovid, Amores 3.9.1-16
fratris in Aeneae sic illum funere dicunt
egressum tectis, pulcher Iule, tuis;
nec minus est confusa Venus moriente Tibullo,
quam iuveni rupit cum ferus inguen aper.”
Ovid, Amores 3.9.1-16
‘If a divine Mother wept for Memnon - and one for Achilles too –
If sorrowful fates can cut great goddesses to the quick, then
Tearful Elegy, rend your wretched locks!
Ah, only too apt will your name be now – for
That bard, that doyen of your lays, your glory - Tibullus - ...
If sorrowful fates can cut great goddesses to the quick, then
Tearful Elegy, rend your wretched locks!
Ah, only too apt will your name be now – for
That bard, that doyen of your lays, your glory - Tibullus - ...
'Burns on a built-up pyre... now no more than an empty shell.
Behold, Venus’ child comes near, his quiver upended,
His bow broken, his torch bereft of flaming light.
Gaze upon him in his misery, his wings drooping:
Oh, how he beats his bare breast with a hostile hand!...
Behold, Venus’ child comes near, his quiver upended,
His bow broken, his torch bereft of flaming light.
Gaze upon him in his misery, his wings drooping:
Oh, how he beats his bare breast with a hostile hand!...
'His locks lolling about his neck are drenched in tears,
His lips quiver with sobbing, shake with grief.
Thus he was – so they say – at the death of Aeneas, his
Brother, as he stepped forth from your home, Fair Iulus:...
His lips quiver with sobbing, shake with grief.
Thus he was – so they say – at the death of Aeneas, his
Brother, as he stepped forth from your home, Fair Iulus:...
'Nor was Venus’ heart more heavy when the rampant boar
Skewered her lover’s groin, as it was when Tibullus was no more.’
😢
Skewered her lover’s groin, as it was when Tibullus was no more.’
😢
Ovid's lament for the death of his brother-poet Tibullus is one of my favourite moments of the Amores, interrupting as it does a run of more erotic verses, seemingly bringing an end to Ovid's love-affair with love poetry.
The Image at the head of this thread is 'The Death of Adonis (with Venus, Cupid, and the Three Graces)' by Peter Paul Rubens, ca. 1614 (Israel Museum: B00.0735).
Link - artsandculture.google.com/asset/the-deat…
#LatinForTheDay #Tibullus #Ovid
Link - artsandculture.google.com/asset/the-deat…
#LatinForTheDay #Tibullus #Ovid
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
