There are ghosts after all, then; death is not the ending:
the soul, like smoke, escapes from the funeral flame.[Sunt aliquid Manes: letum non omnia finit,
Luridaque evictos effugit umbra rogos.]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 4, Elegy 7, l. 1ff (4.7.1-2) [tr. Carrier (1963)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:The Manes are no dream; death closes not
Our all of being, and the wan-visaged shade
Escapes unscathed from the funeral fires.
[tr. Martin (1870)]Yes; there are ghosts: death ends not all, I ween.
The lurid shade escapes the pile's rent thrall.
[tr. Cranstoun (1875)]So there are spirits, then, death ends not all
But each wan ghost escapes the fiery pall.
[tr. Moore (1870)]There are, then, such things as spirits: death does not finish everything, and the lurid shade overcomes and escapes the funeral pile
[tr. Gantillon (1884)]The dead have being: death is not the term of everything, and the lurid shadow escapes from the defeated faggot.
[tr. Phillimore (1906)]The Shades are no fable: death is not the end of all, and the pale ghost escapes the vanquished pyre.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912)]There is something beyond the grave; death does not end all,
and the pale ghost escapes from the vanquished pyre.
[E.g. (1934)]Ghosts are realities; death not the end of all:
The wan shadow defeats the funeral pyre
And evades its fires.
[tr. Musker (1972)]A ghost is someone: death has left a hole
For the lead-coloured soul to beat the fire
[tr. Lowell (1974)]The souls of the dead are something: in death everything does not cease:
the pale shade escapes the pyre.
[tr. Batiushkov (1977)]So ghosts do exist: death is not the end of all, and a pale shade vanquishes and escapes the pyre.
[tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990)]A ghost is something. Death does not close all.
A pale shade escapes, defeating the pyre.
[tr. Lee (1992)]There are Spirits, of a kind: death does not end it all, and the pale ghost escapes the ruined pyre.
[tr. Kline (2008)]The Shades exist, and death not wholly bounds our life:
a sallow ghost escapes the pyre.
[tr. Holcombe (2009)]There are such things as ghosts -- death does not put an end to everything, and a pallid shade escapes the defeated pyres.
(Source)There are ghosts: death does not end everything,
and the pale shade escapes the conquered pyre.
Quotations by:
Propertius
Dear love, dear life, you do not need adorning —
hair curled, silk rustling down your slender side.
Not by that heavy scent, those foreign bangles,
is this your natural beauty magnified.
No. Let that beauty shine in its own brilliance,
your charm, your grace, transcend what gold can buy.
Believe me, art is needless. You are lovely,
and love goes naked nor would trick the eye.[Quid iuvat ornato procedere, vita, capillo
et tenuis Coa veste movere sinus,
aut quid Orontea crines perfundere murra,
teque peregrinis vendere muneribus,
naturaeque decus mercato perdere cultu,
nec sinere in propriis membra nitere bonis?
Crede mihi, non ulla tuaest medicina figurae:
nudus Amor formam non amat artificem.]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 1, Elegy 2, l. 1ff (1.2.1-8) [tr. Carrier (1963)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:Why walk, my love, with locks bedeck'd with gold?
And rustle Coan robes with silken fold?
Ah, why with Syrian unguents drench thy hair,
Trick'd out for sale with artificial ware?
Why scorn to please by nature's simple grace,
And seek th' allurements of a borrw'd face?
From tricks like these thy charms no fairer prove,
For artificial beauty wins not love.
[tr. Moore (1870)]Why wear, my Life, when thou abroad dost stir,
A head trimmed up to fashion's latest laws?
A Coan vestment of transparent gauze,
And hair perfumed with Orontean myrrh?
Why deck thyself with gems and costly dress?
Why mar with trinkets Nature's form divine,
And not allow thy beauties forth to shine
In all their own, their matchless loveliness?
To thee such aids can add no charms -- ah, no!
True love will aye disdain the artist's care.
[tr. Cranstoun (1875)]Why delight, my life, in walking delicately with hair elaborately decked, and in fluttering the transparent folds of a Coan vesture? Why drench your hair with Syrian myrrh? Why set yourself off by artificial means, to spoil the grace of nature by purchased adornment, and not suffer your limbs to shine in their own loveliness. Believe me, there is no improving beauty like yours by adventitious aid: geniuine Love likes not a disguised form.
[tr. Gantillon (1884)]Why to walk forth, sweet life, thy tresses braid?
Why in the Coan garb’s thin folds array’d?
Why with Orontes’ myrrh thy locks imbue?
Thy beauty’s price enhance by foreign show?
Why Nature’s charms with purchas’d lustre hide,
Nor let thy limbs disclose their genuine pride?
Trust me thy face wants no cosmetic’s aid;
Love’s naked god abhors the dressing trade.
[tr. Nott, ed. Gantillon (1884)]What does it profit, sweet life, to walk abroad with bedizened hair and play off the delicate folds in a muslin of Cos? Or to steep your locks in a perfume from the Orontes, and make a market of yourself by these outlandish dowries, using purchased braveries to spoil the grace of nature instead of letting the bodily form dazzle by its proper excellences? Take my word for it, all this leechcraft of yours to mend the looks is naught: Master Love is naked and loves not one that makes a craft of beauty.
[tr. Phillimore (1906)]What boots it, light of my life, to go forth with locks adorned, and to rustle in slender folds of Coan silk? Or avails it aught to steep thy tresses in the myrrh of Orontes, to parade thyself in the gifts that aliens bring, to spoil the grace of nature by the charms that gold can buy nor allow thy limbs to shine in the glory that is their own? Believe me, thou hast no art can make thy form more fair; Love himself goes naked and hates those that make a craft of beauty.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912)]Why, dear, do you love to go out with your hair arranged
In the latest style and besprinkled with Eastern perfumes?
To parade in filmy ripples of Coān silk
And set yourself off with exotic adornments?
Such purchased graces ruin the charms of nature
And let no part of you glow with its own true light.
Believe me, they're futile -- these arts for improving your looks;
Love goes naked and has no time
For contrivers of beauty.
[tr. Musker (1972)]What avails it, my love, to step out with coiffured hair and flutter the sheer folds of a Coan dress? What avails it to drench your locks with Syrian perfume and to vaunt yourself in foreign finery, to destroy your natural charm with purchased ornament, preventing your figure from displaying its own true merits? Believe me, there is no improving your appearance. Love is naked, and loves not beauty gained by artifice.
[tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990)]Why choose, my life, to step out with styled hair
And move sheer curves in Coan costume?
Or why to drench your tresses in Orontes' myrrh
And sell yourself with foreign gifts
And lose the charm of Nature for bought elegance,
Not letting limibs shine with their own attraction?
This doctoring of your looks is pointless, believe me;
Love, being naked, does not love beauticians.
[tr. Lee (1992)]What need is there, mea vita, to come with your hair adorned, and slither about in a thin silk dress from Cos? Why drench your tresses in myrrh of Orontes, betray yourself with gifts from strangers, ruin nature’s beauty with traded refinements, nor allow your limbs to gleam to true advantage? Believe me nothing could enhance your shape: naked Amor ever hates lying forms.
[tr. Kline (2001)]Who can be pleased, my love, by such a hairdo, float
of contours through a Cōan dress?
Or curls so wetted with Orontean myrrh they frame
a face sold out to foreign ways?
You have a natural beauty with unblemished limbs
that need not trade in cultivation.
Your figure, trust me, is its own revival: how
can naked looks need artifice?
[tr. Holcombe (2009)]Cupid is naked and does not like artifices contrived by beauty.
[E.g.]
The sailor tells of stormy gales, of oxen talks the farmer,
The soldier counts his wounds, of sheep the shepherd prates away;
I sing of hours in rosy bowers, of dalliance with my charmer:
We all have here our proper sphere — his part let each one play.[Navita de ventis, de tauris narrat arator,
Enumerat miles vulnera, pastor oves.
Nos contra angusto versantes proelia lecto:
Qua pote quisque, in ea conterat arte diem.]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 2, Elegy 1, l. 43ff (2.1.43–46) [tr. Cranstoun (1875)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:Let shepherd, soldier, sailor, swain, combine,
To tell of wars or tempests, sheep and kine.
Mine is a narrower field, a humbler fray,
Each to his trade: so runs the world away.
[tr. Moore (1870)]The sailor talks of storms, the farmer of bulls, the soldier counts his wounds, the shepherd his sheep. We, on the other hand, tell of those whose field of battles is the narrow couch. Let each one spend his time on the art in which he is skilled.
[tr. Gantillon (1884)]The seaman's story is of tempest, the ploughman's of his team of bulls; the soldier tells his wounds, the shepherd his tale of sheep: we have to do instead with such as wage their warfare in a narrower battlefield. Let every man spend his days at the trade he is best able to practise!
[tr. Phillimore (1906)]The sailor talks of winds, the ploughman of oxen, the soldier counts o'er his wounds, the shepherd his sheep, while we for our part tell of lovers' wars upon a narrow couch! Let each man pass his days in that wherein his skill is greatest.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912)]Sailor, of winds; a plowman, concerning his oxen;
Soldier, the enumeration of wounds; the sheep-feeder, of ewes;
We, in our narrow bed, turning aside from battles:
Each man where he can, wearing out the day in his manner.
[tr. Pound (1919), 5.2]As sailors talk of wind and wave and sky,
so each man has his sphere — the soldier’s, warfare;
the ploughman’s, oxen; and the shepherd’s, sheep.
I am no less an expert on my subject:
the love that binds us, waking or asleep.
[tr. Carrier (1963)]The sailor tells of winds; the ploughman of oxen;
The soldier counts his wounds, the shepherd his sheep.
My theme is battles played out in a narrow bed.
And so let each man pass his days
At the task he knows.
[tr. Musker (1972)]The sailor tells of winds, the ploughman of oxen; the soldier counts his wounds, the shepherd his sheep; I for my part wage wars within the narrow confines of a bed: let everyone spend his life in the trade he practises best.
[tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990)]The sailor talks of squalls, the ploughman of his oxen;
The soldier counts his wounds, the shepherd sheep:
But we engage in battles on a narrow bed.
We should all rub along in our own way.
[tr. Lee (1992)]The sailor talks of breezes: the ploughman, of oxen: the soldier counts wounds, the shepherd counts his sheep: I in my turn count sinuous flailings in narrowest beds: let every man spend the day where he can, in his art.
[tr. Kline (2001)]The sailor talks of winds, the ploughman oxen, soldier
of his wounds, and herdsman sheep.
I tell of battles on our narrow bed: let each
wear out the day as best he may.
[tr. Holcombe (2009)]
And should I fail, my courage brings its commendation:
greatness aimed at is enough.[Quod si deficiant vires, audacia certe
Laus erit: in magnis et voluisse sat est.]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 2, Elegy 10, l. 5ff (2.10.5-6) [tr. Holcombe (2009)]
(Source)
Talking specifically about writing epics about mighty themes and accomplishments.
Because of the corruption of manuscripts of Propertius and speculating from internal references, some 19th Century scholars (e.g., Lachmann) argued for a different division of the elegies into books, thus the translations here wich instead label this as Book 3, Elegy 1.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:And if my powers of song should fail -- to dare were surely fame:
Enough that I have had the will; no higher praise I claim.
[tr. Cranstoun (1875), 3.1]Courage in weighty works must power supply,
And praise be mine that I've the will to try.
[tr. Moore (1870), 3.1]But if my powers fail me, at all events my courage will be meritorious: in great attempts even to have had the will is enough.
[tr. Gantillon (1884), 3.1]And if my strength fail, at least my boldness will be a title of honour; in great enterprises, the very "I would" is enough.
[tr. Phillimore (1906)]But should strength fail me, yet my daring shall win me fame: in mighty enterprises enough even to have willed success.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912)]If I have not the faculty, "The bare attempt would be praiseworthy."
"In things of similar magnitude
the mere will to act is sufficient."
[tr. Pound (1919), 5.1]What though I fail? That I have dared aspire
should be enough. I shall have tried. What more?
[tr. Carrier (1963)]But if my strength should fail, why then my temerity
Is sure of praise, for in matters of moment
The intention suffices.
[tr. Musker (1972)]And should strength fail me, my daring at least will win me praise: in mighty projects even to have wished is enough.
[tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990)]If strength be lacking, surely ambition will be praised;
The intention in great matters is enough.
[tr. Lee (1992)]But if I lack the power, then surely my courage will be praised: it’s enough simply to have willed great things.
[tr. Kline (2001)]What though strength fails? Boldness is certain to win praise. In mighty enterprises, it is enough to have had the determination.
[Bartlett]
Afflicted by love’s madness all are blind.
[Scilicet insano nemo in amore videt.]
Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 2, Elegy 14, l. 18ff (2.14.18) [ed. Harbottle (1906)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:And surely no one sees when love his senses steals away.
[tr. Cranstoun (1875); 3.5]To be sure, when mad with love no one can see.
[tr. Gantillon (1884); 3.5]This is the truth of the adage "Madly in love, nobody uses his eyes."
[tr. Phillimore (1906)]But men love-maddened one and all are blind.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912)]A man in love, as I am, stumbles blindly.
[tr. Carrier (1963)]But who in love’s madness retains his sight?
[tr. Musker (1972)]Of course no one uses his eyes when he is madly in love.
[tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990)]In mad love no one can see straight.
[tr. Lee (1992)]No one of course can see when crazed with love.
[tr. Kline (2001)]In lover’s madness none can see.
[tr. Holcombe (2009)]
Unsourced variant: "No one in love can see."
No one has endless fortune, eternal beauty: sooner or later death awaits us all.
[Nec forma aeternum aut cuiquam est fortuna perennis:
longius aut propius mors sua quemque manet.]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 2, Elegy 28, l. 57ff (2.28.57-58) [tr. Kline (2001), 2.28a]
(Source)
Beyond the debates of how to properly break the elegies into books, the text for this elegy about Cynthia's illness is fragmented, and various pieces have been grouped differently by various scholars (some even move just these two lines into a different elegy altogether).
(Source (Latin), 2.28c). Other translations:Beauty is fading, nor is fortune stable; sooner or later death comes to all.
[tr. Ramage (1864)]Yes, beauty dies, and wealth and honour fall;
come soon, come late, death comes at last to all.
[tr. Moore (1870), 3.20]For beauty dies and fortune flits away --
Death soon or late doth all that lives enthral.
[tr. Cranstoun (1875), 3.20]Neither beauty endures for ever, nor is any one’s prosperity lasting: either far or near, his death is awaiting every one.
[tr. Gantillon (1884), 3.20]Neither is anyone's beauty or fortune always abiding: far or near, his death is in wait for everyone.
[tr. Phillimore (1906), 2.28b]Neither beauty nor fortune abideth everlastingly for any; sooner or later death awaiteth all.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912), 2.28a]No face can charm death and no fortune buy him;
all must fall victim to his greedy fire.
[tr. Carrier (1963), 2.28a]For no one does beauty or fortune last forever.
Nearer or farther off stands death
And waits for all.
[tr. Musker (1972), 2.28c]For none is beauty a lasting gift, for none lasts luck for ever: death sooner or later lies in store for all.
[tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990), 3.18]Beauty is not forever and no one's luck will last.
further or nearer one's own death is waiting.
[tr. Lee (1992), 2.28b]For none will beauty last, or fortune hold, and death
that's soon or late is end for all.
[tr. Holcombe (2009), 3.18]
Yet loneliness shall weary thee, and still
Love torture thee with longings nought can fill.
Absence makes passion’s tide have double sway,
Possession cloys the love of every day.[Nulla tamen lecto recipit se sola libenter:
Est quiddam, quod vos quaerere cogat Amor.
Semper in absentes felicior aestus amantes:
Elevat assiduos copia longa viros.]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 2, Elegy 33, l. 41ff (2.33.41-44) [tr. Moore (1870); 3.25]
(Source)
This quote (the third line) appears to be the origin of the English proverb, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." The first use of those exact words appear to be from a song by T. H. Bayly, "Isle of Beauty, Fare Thee Well" (1826?). For more discussion of the origin (and variants) of that phrase see etymology - Who is the author of "Absence makes the heart grow fonder"? - English Language & Usage Stack Exchange.
Not surprisingly, the idea of absence increasing (or decreasing) ardor is a a frequently discussed theme. See Montaigne (1587); English Proverb; Cervantes (1605); Rabutin (1660); La Rochefoucauld (1678); Johnson (1758); Mirabeau (1770); Ouida (1878); Antrim (1905); Shaw (1931); Bowen (1938); Stark (1953).
Propertius' elegies, as handed down, are something of a mess, and the assignment to them in particular books has been of sharp debate. This passage is currently considered a fragment, connected to 2.33 (and called 2.33A, or 2.33B, or 2.33C by different translators); similarly, the line numbering is sometimes carried across the entire 2.33, other times broken between the fragments. This fragmentary nature is also why the two couplets here appear in different order between different translations.
Nineteenth Century sources, based on the manuscript traditions of the time, assign this as 3.25.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:Yet loath to bed her way lone maiden wends,
Love keeps her brooding o'er forbidden joys;
More deeply yearns the heart for absent friends:
Even of the leal [loyal] the long possession cloys.
[tr. Cranstoun (1875); 3.25]But no one retires with good will to her solitary couch. There is something that Love forces you to miss. There is always a more favourable disposition towards absent lovers; long possession lowers the value even of the devoted.
[tr. Gantillon (1884); 3.25]No woman takes herself cheerfully to bed alone though: there is something which Love makes you fain to look for.
Desire always burns kindlier toward absent lovers: long plenty of opportunity makes cheap the never-failing suitor.
[tr. Phillimore (1906); 2.33]Yet no woman ever betakes her willingly to a lonely bed; there is a somewhat that Love compels all to seek. Woman's heart is kinder always towards absent lovers; long possession takes from the worth of the persistent wooer.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912); 2.33]No woman's bed is by her own choice lonely;
love marks the goal toward wich all men must strive;
the restless heart swings toward the absent lover.
It is not constancy keeps love live.
[tr. Carrier (1963); 2.33]Yet no girl likes to retire to a lonely bed;
They all, at Love's insistance, look for something more.
For the lover who's missing the tide of passion runs strong;
The length of his tenure serves to diminish
The constant lover.
[tr. Musker (1972); 2.33B]Woman's heart is ever fonder towards an absent lover: long possession lessens the appeal of the persistent wooer. Yet no woman willingly retires to bed alone: there is something which Love compels you all to seek.
[tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990); frag. 2.33C]Passion is always warmer towards absent lovers;
Availability cheapens men-in-waiting.
Still, no girl likes retiring to a lonely bed;
At love's insistence you all miss something else.
[tr. Lee (1992); 2.33B]No girl ever willingly goes to bed alone: something there is desire leads us all to search for. Passion is often greater in absent lovers: endless presence reduces the man who’s always around.
[tr. Kline (2001); 2.33A]Passion helps the absent lover: long persistence
elevates the assiduous man.
No man gladly goes to bed alone, for Amor
gives us something all must seek.
[tr. Holcombe (2009); frag. 2.33C]
But the fame my genius has won shall not perish with time: genius claims a glory that knows no death.
[At non ingenio quaestium nomen ab aevo
Excidet: ingenio stat sine morte decus.]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 3, Elegy 2, l. 25ff (3.2.25–26) [tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990)]
(Source)
Telling Cynthia his literary genius will provide a more lasting memorial to her beauty than mere material monuments.
Because of the (ironic) corruption of the manuscripts of Propertius and speculating from internal references, some 19th Century scholars (e.g., Lachmann) argued for a different division of the elegies into books, thus the translations noted which instead label this as Book 4, Elegy 2.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:But glory shrined in song can never die,
Talent alone wins immortality.
[tr. Moore (1870), 4.2]Genius alone a name can deathless render,
And round the forehead wreathe the unfading crown.
[tr. Cranstoun (1875), 4.2]But a name gained by genius will never perish by time: the honours of genius are deathless.
[tr. Gantillon (1884), 4.2][...] The honour accorded to genius is immortal.
[E.g. (1892)]But that renown which poet's wit purchases, shall not so pass out of mind by the effect of time; poet's wit has such a pride as stands deathless.
[tr. Phillimore (1906)]The name by genius earned dies not with time;
The lustre shed by genius knows no death.
[ed. Harbottle (1906), 4.1]But the fame that my wit hath won shall never perish: for wit renown endureth deathless.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912)][...] Fame due to the achievements of the mind never perishes.
[ed. Mencken (1942)]But from remembered genius, fame shall flower.
It is only wit that death does not devour.
[tr. Carrier (1963)]But a writer’s talent wins fame that will not perish:
The honour accorded such talent stands
Beyond death’s power.
[tr. Musker (1972)]But age will not destroy the name achieved by talent;
Talent's glory stands -- immortal.
[tr. Lee (1992)]But the name I’ve earned, with my wit, will not be razed by time: Mind stands firm, a deathless ornament.
[tr. Kline (2001)]But a name acquired by genius will never fade
but stand a deathless ornament.
[tr. Holcombe (2009)]
Money — it’s love of money that is fatal;
for money’s sake men die before their time;
money is cruel; it nourishes men’s vices;
it is the source of woe, the seed of crime.[Ergo sollicitae tu causa, pecunia, vitae!
per te immaturum mortis adimus iter;
tu vitiis hominum crudelia pabula praebes;
semina curarum de capite orta tuo.]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 3, Elegy 7, l. 1ff (3.7.1–4) [tr. Carrier (1963)]
(Source)
Because of the corruption of the manuscripts of Propertius and speculating from internal references, some 19th Century scholars (e.g., Lachmann) argued for a different division of the elegies into books, thus the translations noted which instead label this as Book 4, Elegy 7.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:Ah, Money, cause of all life's care and crime,
Through thee we walk death's path before our time;
Stern pander to the vices of mankind,
All tales of woe in thee commencement find.
[tr. Moore (1870), 4.7]Money! -- alas! from thee what troubles spring!
Through thee before our time deaths path we tread;
To human vices felly pandering,
Of cares the fosterer and fountain-head!
[tr. Cranstoun (1875), 4.7]Thou, money, art then the cause of an anxious life to us: it is owing to thee that we tread the path to death before our time. Thou affordest cruel food to the faults of men: from thee spring the seeds of care.
[tr. Gantillon (1884), 4.7]Then so it is: thou, Money, art the cause why our life is made unpeaceable; by thee we approach the road of death before our season; thou dost furnish a cruel provender for human weakness; and thyself are the author whence the seeds of sorrow arise.
[tr. Phillimore (1906)]Thou, therefore, money, art the cause that life is full of care! 'tis for thee we go down to death ere our time; 'tis thou that givest men's vices cruel nourishment, thou art the fount whence spring the seeds of woe.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912)]Through you, then, money, our lives are full of trouble;
For you we take untimely the road to death.
It is you that cruelly nourish the vices of men;
From you come all the seeds of care.
[tr. Musker (1972)]So you then, Money, are the cause of our anguished lives! Through you we travel an untimely road to death; you furnish cruel nourishment for men’s faults; from your head have sprung the seeds of woe.
[tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990)]It's true then, Money -- you cause a life of trouble.
For you we take the early road to death.
You supply human vices with cruel nourishment.
From your stock spring the seeds of discontent.
[tr. Lee (1992)]So money you’re the cause of a troubled life! It’s because of you we go death’s path too soon: you offer human vices cruel nurture: from your source the seeds of sorrow spring.
[tr. Kline (2001)]How much can money vex us with a troubled life,
and urge us on to early death.
What cruel nourishment you furnish for men’s faults,
and from your head spring many cares.
[tr. Holcombe (2009)]You, O money, are the cause of a restless life!
Because of you we journey toward a premature death;
you provide cruel nourishment for the evils of men;
the seed of our cares sprouts from your head.
[E.g.]
But now the gods are spurn’d, their altars cold,
All reverence forgot in thirst of gold:
Gold buys the judge, and honour yields to pelf,
Shame weeps o’er Justice dead, then dies herself.[At nunc desertis cessant sacraria lucis:
aurum omnes victa iam pietate colunt.
Auro pulsa fides, auro venalia iura,
aurum lex sequitur, mox sine lege pudor.]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 3, Elegy 13, l. 47ff (3.13.47–50) [tr. Moore (1870), 4.13]
(Source)
Because of the corruption of the manuscripts of Propertius and speculating from internal references, some 19th Century scholars (e.g., Lachmann) argued for a different division of the elegies into books, thus the translations noted which instead label this as Book 4, Elegy 13.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:[...] All men now worship gold, all other reverence being done away. By gold all good faith has been banished; by gold our rights are abused: the law itself follows gold, and soon there will be an end of every modest restraint.
[tr. Macdonnel (1826 ed.); a, b]Now groves and shrines are visited by none,
All worship gold since Piety is gone:
Honour, right, law, are bartered now for gold,
And soon will decency itself be sold.
[tr. Cranstoun (1875), 4.13]But now the groves are deserted and sacrifices are abandoned: all follow gold, piety being now conquered. Honesty is driven out by gold: right can be bought by gold: law follows gold, and decency will soon follow it when law is gone.
[tr. Gantillon (1884), 4.13]But nowadays the sanctuaries are cold and dull in forsaken groves; devotion is beaten from the field and they all worship gold. Gold has hounded out faith, gold makes a market of right and wrong; the law runs after gold, and, the law once gone, cleanness of heart soon goes the same way.
[tr. Phillimore (1906)]But now the shrines lie neglected in deserted groves: piety is vanquished and all men worship gold. Gold has banished faith, gold has made judgment to be bought and sold, gold rules the law, and, law once gone, rules chastity as well.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912)][...] By gold all good faith has been banished; by gold our rights are abused; the law itself is influenced by gold, and soon there will be an end of every modest restraint.
[ed. Hoyt (1922)]But now these shrines lie empty and forgotten.
Piety’s lost, and gold’s the dream of man.
Gold's banished faith, and made of Roman justice
a mockery, a thing that's bought and sold.
Greed jeers at law, and, with the law corrupted,
chastity's gone as well, the pawn of gold.
[tr. Carrier (1963)]But now the shrines are idle, the groves deserted;
True religion is vanquished; all worship gold.
For gold good faith is banished and justice sold;
To gold the law now truckles, and conscience
That owns no law.
[tr. Musker (1972)]But now shrines suffer neglect in forsaken groves: gold commands the worship of all, with piety trampled underfoot. Gold has banished faith, for gold judgements can be bought, gold is courted by the law, and soon the conscience that requires no law goes the same way.
[tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990)]But now the shrines are idle in forsaken groves;
Religion conquered, all men worship gold.
Gold drives out honesty, justice is sold for gold,
Law goes for gold, next lawless, honour too.
[tr. Lee (1992)]But now the shrines decay in deserted groves: all worship money, now piety is vanquished. Money drives out loyalty, justice is bought for money, money rules the law, and, without the law, then shame.
[tr. Kline (2001)]But now the shrines are empty, groves deserted: gold
is worshipped, piety dismissed.
Gold has banished faith and buys all judgements: gold’s
now law, and conscience follows
[tr. Holcombe (2009)]
It is the cause which shatters or exalts the soldier’s strength; if there be no just cause behind him, shame dashes the weapons from his hands.
[Frangit et attollit uires in milite causa;
quae nisi iusta subest, excutit arma pudor.]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 4, Elegy 6, l. 51ff (4.6.51–52) [tr. Phillimore (1906)]
(Source)
Because of the corruption of the manuscripts of Propertius and speculating from internal references, some 19th Century scholars (e.g., Lachmann) argued for a different division of the elegies into books, thus the translations noted which instead label this as Book 5, Elegy 6.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:It is the cause that fires the warrior's breast,
Let it be just, or shame will lower his crest.
[tr. Moore (1870), 5.6]The cause unnerves or nerves the soldier's might,
And shame disarms who strikes not for the right.
[tr. Cranstoun (1875), 5.6]With soldiers the cause they fight for raises or depresses their strength; if it is not just, shame makes them drop their arms.
[tr. Gantillon (1884), 5.6]'Tis his cause that makes or mars a soldier's strength. If the cause be not just, shame strikes the weapon from his hands.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912)]If the cause is not just, men's hands will drop their weapons;
just cause can rally soldiers back to their ranks.
[tr. Carrier (1963)]It's the cause that breaks or exalts a soldier's strength;
If the cause is unjust, from his hand shame strikes his weapon.
[tr. Musker (1972)]It is his cause that makes or breaks a soldier's strength; unless his cause is just, shame dashes the weapons from his hand.
[tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990)]It is their cause that breaks or raises soldiers' strength;
If that is unjust, shame throws down their weapons.
[tr. Lee (1992)]The cause exalts or breaks a soldier’s strength: unless it is just, shame downs his weapons.
[tr. Kline (2001)]The cause men that men acclaim will force or limit courage:
shame will press their weapon down.
[tr. Holcombe (2009)]
So I will pass the night with drinking, so with song, until daylight shines its rays into my wine.
[Sic noctem patera, sic ducam carmine, donec
iniciat radios in mea uina dies!]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 4, Elegy 6, l. 85ff (4.6.85–86) [tr. Kline (2001)]
(Source)
Because of the corruption of the manuscripts of Propertius and speculating from internal references, some 19th Century scholars (e.g., Lachmann) argued for a different division of the elegies into books, thus the translations noted which instead label this as Book 5, Elegy 6.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:Thus wine and song shall wing the night away,
Till o'er our revel streams the dawning day.
[tr. Moore (1870), 5.6]Thus wine and song will cheer the night, till day
Upon my revel sheds its rosy ray.
[tr. Cranstoun (1875), 5.6]Thus will I pass the night in drinking and song, till day sheds its beams over my wine.
[tr. Gantillon (1884)]Thus will I prolong the night with goblet and song, until day flings beams of light upon my carouse.
[tr. Phillimore (1906)]Thus will I pass the night with drink and thus with song, till dawn shall cast its rays upon my wine.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912)]So this whole night of song and drinking is mine
till the sun's rays flash new brightness into the wine.
[tr. Carrier (1963)]Thus I will pass the night amid the bumpers
And amid the songs till day shall cast
Its rays in my wine.
[tr. Musker (1972)]So will I spend the night with goblet and with song, until the day sheds its rays upon my wine.
[tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990)]So with libation, so with song I'll spend the night
Till daylight thrust its rays into my wine.
[tr. Lee (1992)]With song and goblet I will spend the night until
the dawn adds lustre to my wine.
[tr. Holcombe (2009)]
All things in the world are not suited to all men alike, nor is any prize secured by a chariot no better than its rivals.
[Omnia non pariter rerum sunt omnibus apta,
Palma nec ex aequo ducitur ulla iugo.]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 4, Elegy 9, l. 7ff (4.9.7–9) [tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990)]
(Source)
On finding your lane and excelling in it. Butler notes the second line here is "very obscure," thus the varying translations.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:All themes are not for all to make their own;
Fame's yoke will fit but one, and one alone.
[tr. Moore (1870), 4.9]All are not fitted equal fates to share:
Alone we win the palm on glory's field.
[tr. Cranstoun (1875), 4.9]Every thing is not equally suited to everybody, nor is fame gained if you are attached to any yoke-fellow.
[tr. Gantillon (1884), 4.9]All things in the world are not found well fitted to all men; neither is renown ever drawn from an even balance.
[tr. Phillimore (1906)]Not everything is fit alike for all.
[ed. Harbottle (1906)]All things are not meet alike for all men; from different heights the palm of fame is won.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912)]All men have different tastes and different talents --
the palm's not given at a stated height.
[tr. Carrier (1963)]All things do not equally suit all men;
From different heights may different palms be won.
[tr. Musker (1972)]Not everything is equally right for everyone
And more than one palm can be won from the same summit.
[tr. Lee (1992)]All things are not equally suited to all: the palm’s not won by dragging at the selfsame yoke.
[tr. Kline (2001)]Not everything is fitted to all strengths, nor can
all yokes apply with equal force.
[tr. Holcombe (2009)]
I am scaling a great height, but hope of glory gives me strength: a crown plucked from an easy summit brings no pleasure.
[Magnum iter ascendo; sed dat mihi gloria vires;
non iuvat e facili lecta corona iugo.]Propertius (50–16 BC) Roman elegiac poet [Sextus Propertius]
Elegies, Book 4, Elegy 10, l. 3ff (4.10.3–4) [tr. Goold (Loeb) (1990)]
(Source)
Noting the effort going toward writing this particular elegy, "the origin of the name of Jupiter Feretrius and the taking of the three suits of armor from the three chieftains." See also 2.10.
In some early translations, this is numbered as 5.10.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:A toilsome theme, but glory nerves the will
To pluck my laurels from no easy hill.
[tr. Moore (1870), 5.10]Hard is the hill, but glory nerves my soul:
I'd cull my chaplet from no easy knoll.
[tr. Cranstoun (1875), 5.10]I am climbing a difficult road; but the glory gives me strength. [...]
[E.g. (1882)]I am beginning a steep ascent, but glory gives me strength; a crown gathered from an easy ascent pleases me not.
[tr. Gantillon (1884), 5.10]This is no light stage which I must surmount, but honour gives me strength. I care not for a garland gathered from an easy hill.
[tr. Phillimore (1906)]Great are the heights I must scale, but glory lends me strength; crowns plucked from easy summits please me not.
[tr. Butler (Loeb) (1912)]A difficult theme: grant me power to try it.
[tr. Carrier (1963)]An arduous climb but its glory gives me strength;
There can be no pleasure in garlands plucked
From easy summits.
[tr. Musker (1972)]Great is the road I climb but glory gives me strength,
Disdaining garlands plucked from easy summits.
[tr. Lee (1992)]Great is the height that I must scale, but the prospect of glory gives me strength. [...]
[E.g. (1997)]I climb a steep path, but the glory of it gives me strength: I never delight in wreathes plucked on easy slopes.
[tr. Kline (2001)]Great height I scale, but glory gives me strength: a crown
from easy slopes brings no renown.
[tr. Holcombe (2009)]