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LXIV
Peliaco quondam
prognatae uertice pinus
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23b
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55
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LXIV
Pines in the past born from the brow of Pelion, Are rumoured to have swum through Neptune's waves To Phasis' breakers and the frontiers of Aeetes, When chosen young men, oaks of Argive adulthood Eager to rob the Colchians of a gilded hide, Ventured the voyage past salt shoals in a swift hull, Sweeping blue-green levels with palms of silver fir. For them the Goddess Guardian of high citadels In person made a car to fly with the light breeze By joining interwoven pinewood to curved keel, Its prow inured raw Amphitrite to ships' courses, As soon as with its beak it ploughed the windy plain And, by oarage spiralled, wave grew white with foam, Out of the gleaming surge wild faces arose, Aequoreal Nereids, marvelling, at the portent. In that and not another day's light mortal eyes Beheld the bodies of the Nymphs of Ocean naked Far as the sucklers standing out from the white surge. Then Peleus, it is told, for Thetis burned with love, Then Thetis did not despise human hymeneals, Then the Father Himself felt Peleus should yoke with Thetis. 0 born in a time of all the ages too much missed, Hail, heroes, breed of Gods! O noble progeny Of mothers beautiful, I hail you once again! I shall invoke you often, invoke you in my song, [You often, you in my song I shall compel] And you, above all, blest by happy bridal torches, Thessaly’s pillar, Peleus, to whom Jove himself, The Father of the Gods resigned his love. Did Thetis, fairest Nereïne, embrace you? Did Tethys allow you to wed her granddaughter And Ocean's who encircles all the globe with sea? But when at the appointed time those longed-for days Arrived, the whole of Thessaly by invitation Crowds the house, fills the palace with delighted throng. They bring gifts with them. Faces manifest their joy. Cieros is deserted; they leave Phthiotian Tempe And Crannon's houses and the walls of Larisa. They flock to Pharsalus; they crowd Pharsalian roofs. None tills the soil; the necks of oxen become soft. No low-grown vine is cleared of weeds by bent- pronged rake. No bullock cleaves the clod with deep-driven ploughshare. No pruner's hook thins out the shade of leafy trees Slovenly rust attacks the solitary ploughs. The king’s own quarters, though, far as the sumptuous Palace stretched backward, shine, with lustrous gold and silver. Ivory gleams on thrones, cups glow upon the board, The whole house revels in the glint of royal treasure. Indeed, there in the midst, the Goddess’s bridal Divan is placed, inlaid with Indian tooth and spread With woven purple dipped in rosy murex dye. This coverlet, embroidered with old-time human figures, Reveals with wondrous art the virtues of heroes. There, staring out from Dia's surf-resounding shore And watching Theseus sailing off with his fast fleet, Is Ariadne, nursing at heart unmastered passions, Nor can she believe she sees what she is seeing that very moment woken from deceiving sleep To find her poor self left behind on lonely sand.
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