Friday Poetry Corner - We Must Love One Another or Die

**Gibbon** · 9 September 2011, 07:38

Sextius Propertius

Elegy II.vii

Gauisa est certe sublatam Cynthia legem,
qua quondam edicta flemus uterque diu,
ni nos diuideret: quamuis diducere amantis
non queat inuitos Iuppiter ipse duos.

‘At magnus Caesar.’ sed magnus Caesar in armis:
deuictae gentes nil in amore ualent.
nam citius paterer caput hoc discedere collo
quam possem nuptae perdere more faces,
aut ego transirem tua limina clausa maritus,
respiciens udis prodita luminibus.
a mea tum qualis caneret tibi tibia somnos,
tibia, funesta tristior illa tuba!

unde mihi patriis natos praebere triumphis?
nullus de nostro sanguine miles erit.
quod si uera meae comitarem castra puellae,
non mihi sat magnus Castoris iret equus.
hinc etenim tantum meruit mea gloria nomen,
gloria ad hibernos lata Borysthenidas.
tu mihi sola places: placeam tibi, Cynthia, solus:
hic erit et patrio sanguine pluris amor.

Translation

Cynthia delights, certainly, that the law has been lifted,
those edicts we once cried so much over,
afraid they’d separate us, although Jupiter himself
is unable to divide two unwilling lovers.

‘But Caesar is great.’ But Caesar is great in war:
conquered nations are worth nothing in love.
I would sooner allow my head to be severed from my neck
than I’d bear wasting torches at some bride’s command
or passing your bolted gate, a married man,
looking back with wet eyes at what I’d lost.
Ah, then what dirges my flute would sing for you,
flute, even sadder than the general bugle!

Where will I get sons to offer for triumphs of the state?
None from my blood will be a soldier.
But if I were lodging in real camps – my girl’s –
Castor’s great horse wouldn’t go fast enough for me.
My glory from this service has earned my fame,
glory far and wide to northern Borysthenis.
You alone please me: may I alone, Cynthia, please you:
this love will be worth much more than the blood of my fathers.

N.B. The Law that 'Cynthia delights' in being lifted was an Augustan law that forced people, mainly the upper classes, to marry and produce legitimate children.

**TimberWolf** · 9 September 2011, 07:58

Whatever comes out of these gates, we've got a better chance of survival if we work together. Do you understand? If we stay together, we survive.

**wobbegong** · 9 September 2011, 07:59

The autumn hills hoard scarlet from the setting sun.
Flying birds chase their mates,
Now and then patches of blue sky break clear --
Tonight the evening mists find nowhere to gather.

Magnolia Hermitage - Wang Wei (699-759)

Friday Poetry Corner - We Must Love One Another or Die