He that hath once sufficient, let him wishe for no more:
Not howse nor grove, nor yet of gould, or silver ample store
Can rid the owners crasie corpes fro fellon shaking fever.
Nor can the mynd of man from carke, (for al their vigor) sever:
That owner needes must healthfull bee, and other men excel,
Which hauing riches competent, doth cast to use theim well.
[tr. Drant (1567)]

Let him that has enough, desire no more.
Not House and Land, nor Gold and Silver Oare,
The Body's sickness, or the Mind's dispel,
To rellish wealth, the palat must be well.
[tr. Fanshawe; ed. Brome (1666)]

He that hath got enough desires no more:
Did ever Lands, or heaps of Silver ease
The feav'rish Lord? Or cool the hot Disease?
Or free his Mind from Cares? He must have health,
He must be well, that would enjoy his wealth.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

Blest with a competence, why wish for more?
Nor house, nor lands, nor heaps of labour'd ore
Can give their feverish lord one moment's rest,
Or drive one sorrow from his anxious breast:
The fond possessor must be blest with health,
Who rightly means to use his hoarded wealth.
[tr. Francis (1747)]

Nathless who's rich, that is not satisfied? --
Who poor, but he whose wants are unsupplied?
Never did house, or land, or god afford
An hour's short respite to their sickening lord,
Sooth with soft balm the fever's throbbing smart,
Or pluck one rooted sorrow from the heart.
If health be wanting, riches quickly cloy;
'Tis vain to hoard, unless we can enjoy.
[tr. Howes (1845)]

He, that has got a competency, let him wish for no more. Not a house and farm, nor a heap of brass and gold, can remove fevers from the body of their sick master, or cares from his mind. The possessor must be well, if he thinks of enjoying the things which he has accumulated.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

Having got
What will suffice you, seek no happier lot.
Not house or grounds, not heaps of brass or gold
Will rid the frame of fever's heat and cold.
Or cleanse the heart of care. He needs good health,
Body and mind, who would enjoy his wealth.
[tr. Conington (1874)]

If you've enough, how vain to wish for more!
Nor house, nor lands, nor brass, nor golden store
Can of its fire the fevered frame relieve,
Or make the care-fraught spirit cease to grieve.
Sound, mind and body both, should be his health
To true account who hopes to turn his wealth.
[tr. Martin (1881)]

If a sufficiency belong to any one, let him desire no more. A house and farm, a heap of brass and gold, have never removed fever from the sickly body of their possessor, nor cares from his mind. It is a necessity that their owner be sound in body and mind if he contemplate making a good use of his accumulated substance.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

But after all, enough is enough, and he who has enough is wise if he does not ask for more. A house, a farm, and a store of gold, these never drove the fever from their owner's aching body, or took the burden of care from his mind. Verily, the man of wealth must have good health if he would enjoy the fruit of all his labors.
[tr. Dana/Dana (1911)]

He, to whose lot sufficient falls, should covet nothing more. No house or land, no pile of bronze or god, has ever freed the owner's sick body of fevers, or his sick mind of cares. The possessor must be sound in health, if he thinks of enjoying the stores he has gathered.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]

But anyone who has enough should want no more.
No house and farm, no heap of copper and gold
can drive a fever from its owner's weakened flesh
Or his worries from his soul. He must be well
if he wants good use from everything he's gathered.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

But having enough we should never want more. No house
In town, no land, no piles of gold and bronze,
Have ever freed a man's mind, or eased the fevers
Racking his body. To enjoy treasure you must be sound
In mind, stable in body.
[tr. Raffel (1983)]

The man who has enough should be satisfied
With what he has. Prosperity is never
Going to be able to cure a body that's sick
Or a mind that's sick. You've got to be well if you want
To enjoy the things you own.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]

But when one is blest with enough, one shouldn't long for more.
Possessing a house or farm or a pile of bronze and gold
has never been known to expel a fever from an invalid's body
or a worry from his mind. Unless the owner has sound health
he cannot hope to enjoy the goods he has brought together.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

But he who’s handed enough, shouldn’t long for more.
Houses and land, piles of bronze and gold, have never
Freed their owner’s sick body from fever, or his spirit
From care: if he wants to enjoy the goods he’s gathered
Their possessor must be well.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

An hart the better chevalier as it came then to passe
Did chase an horse that fed with him from eating of the grasse.
The tryumpher after that he was parted from his foe
The man from backe, the bitt from mouthe he could not rid them fro.
So, he that feareth povertie his fredom cannot houlde.
Fredome, better then mettells all better then choysest goulde.
That foole shall beare in dede a Lorde, and lyve a dayly thrall,
For that he will not knowe to use and lyve upon a small.
[tr. Drant (1567)]

The Stagg superior both in Arms and Force,
Out of the Common-Pasture drove the Horse:
Untill the vanquish'd after a long fight
Pray'd Man's assistance, and receiv'd the Bit:
But, having beat the Victor, could not now
Bit from his Mouth, nor Man from his Back throw.
So He that fearing Poverty, hath sold
Away his Liberty; better then Gold,
Shall carry a proud Lord upon his back,
And serve for ever, 'cause he could not lack.
[tr. Fanshawe; ed. Brome (1666)]

Both fed together, till with injur'ous force,
The stoutest Deer expell'd the weaker Horse:
He beaten, flyes to Man to right his Cause,
Begs help, and takes the Bridle in his Jaws.
Yet tho He Conquer'd, tho He rul'd the Plain,
He bore the Rider still, and felt the Rein.
Thus the mean Wretch, that fearing to be poor,
Doth sell his Liberty for meaner Ore:
Must bear a Lord, He must be still a Slave,
That cannot use the little Nature gave.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

A lordly stag, arm'd with superior force,
Drove from their common field a vanquisht horse,
Who for revenge to man his strength enslav'd,
Took up his rider, and the bitt received:
But, though he conquer'd in the martial strife,
He felt his rider's weight, and champt the bitt for life.
So he, who poverty with horror views,
Nor frugal nature's bounty knows to use;
Who sells his freedom in exchange for gold
(Freedom for mines of wealth too cheaply sold),
Shall make eternal servitude his fate,
And feel a haughty master's galling weight.
[tr. Francis (1747)]

It chanced that after many a well-fought bout
The Stag contrived to put the Horse to rout;
'Till, from his pasture driven, the foe thought fit
To ask the aid of man and took the bit.
He conquer'd; but, his triumph o'er, began
To find he could shake off nor bit nor man.
such is the fate of him who, if he please,
Might rest in humble competence and ease,
Yet through the dread of penury has sold
That independence which surpasses gold.
Henceforth he'll serve a tyrant for his pains,
And stand or budge as avarice pulls the reins.
[tr. Howes (1845)]

The stag, superior in fight, drove the horse from the common pasture, till the latter, worsted in the long contest, implored the aid of man and received the bridle; but after he had parted an exulting conqueror from his enemy, he could not shake the rider from his back, nor the bit from his mouth. So he who, afraid of poverty, forfeits his liberty, more valuable than mines, avaricious wretch, shall carry a master, and shall eternally be a slave, for not knowing how to use a little.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

The stag was wont to quarrel with the steed,
Nor let him graze in common on the mead:
The steed, who got the worst in each attack,
Asked help from man, and took him on his back:
But when his foe was quelled, he ne'er got rid
Of his new friend, still bridled and bestrid.
So he who, fearing penury, loses hold
Of independence, better far than gold,
Will toil, a hopeless drudge, till life is spent,
Because he'll never, never learn content.
[tr. Conington (1874)]

Once on a time a stag, at antlers' point,
Expelled a horse he'd worsted, from the joint
Enjoyment of the pasture both had cropped:
Still, when he ventured near it, rudely stopped.
The steed called in man's aid, and took the bit:
Thus backed, he charged the stag, and conquered it.
But woe the while! nor rider, bit, nor rein
Could he shake off, and be himself again.
So he who, fearing poverty, hath sold
His freedom, better than uncounted gold.
Will bear a master and a master's laws.
And be a slave unto the end, because
He will not learn, what fits him most to know.
How far, discreetly used, small means will go.
[tr. Martin (1881)]

The stag, being the more powerful animal in fight, was accustomed to drive off the horse from the open pasture until the latter, feeling his inferiority, after a protracted contest, implored the help of man, and received the rein. But after that, a revengeful victor, he had left his foe he threw not off the rider from his back nor the bit from his mouth. In a like manner the man who, through a dread of a small income, possesses not freedom -- preferable to metallic treasure -- will, basely, carry a master and yield him perpetual servitude, because he knows not how to enjoy a little.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

The stag could best the horse in fighting and used to drive him from their common pasture, until the loser in the long contest begged the help of man and took the bit. But after that, in overweening triumph, he parted from his foe, he did not dislodge the rider from his back or the bit from his mouth. So he who through fear of poverty forfeits liberty, which is better than mines of wealth, will in his avarice carry a master, and be a slave for ever, not knowing how to live on little.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]

The stag, victorious in fight, in course
Drove from the common pasturage the horse,
Until the horse, at last forced to submit,
Called in the help of man and took the bit;
But, when he had subdued his foe by force,
The rider from his back he couldn't divorce,
Nor from his mouth the bit. So, if in dread
Of Want, wone has one's freedom forfeited --
Freedom more precious than a mine outspread --
A master he will carry for his greed,
And always be a slave, because in deed
He knows not how to make a little do.
[tr. A. F. Murison (1931); ed. Kraemer, Jr (1936)]

The stag, in time past, could drive
The horse from the feeding ground, and beat him in fighting,
Until the perpetual loser came crying to man
To ask for his help, and accepted the bit. Then the horse
Fought the stag once again to a bitter conclusion, and won.
He walked off and left his foe, but now couldn’t shake
The bit from his mouth or the rider down from his back.
So one who, fearing poverty, loses the liberty
That is worth even more than a gold mine will carry a master,
And cravenly slave for another, simply because
He can't subsist on a little.
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]

A stag battled a horse for the best grass in a field
And kept on winning until the loser in that long war
approached a man to beg his help, and took the bit.
But when it had won the bloody clash and routed its foe,
it could neither shake out the bit nor shake off the rider.
Anyone so scared of poverty he'd rather lose his freedom
than his mines is such a fool he bears a rider, a master
he'll obey forever, since he never learned to live on little.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

The stag was a better fighter than the horse
And often drove him out of their common pasture,
Until the horse, the loser, asked man's help
And acquiesced in taking the bit in his mouth.
But after his famous victory in this battle
He couldn't get the rider off his back
And he couldn't get the bit out of his mouth.
The man who'se afraid to be poor and therefore gives
His liberty away, worth more than gold,
Will carry a master on his back and be
A slave forever, not knowing how to live
On just a little.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]

The stag, being stronger than the horse, drove him away from the pasture
they shared, until, having had the worse of the age-old struggle,
the horse turned for help to man, and accept the bit.
But after routing his enemy and leaving the field in triumph
he never dislodged the rider from his back or the bit from his mouth.
So the man who, in fear of poverty, forgoes his independence
(a thing more precious than metals) has the shame of carrying a master;
he's a slave for life, as he will not make the best of a little.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

The stag could always better the horse in conflict,
And drive him from open ground, until the loser
In that long contest, begging man’s help, took the bit:
Yet, disengaged from his enemy, as clear victor,
He couldn’t shed man from his back, the bit from his mouth.
So the perverse man who forgoes his freedom, worth more
Than gold, through fear of poverty, suffers a master
And is a slave forever, by failing to make much
Of little.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

Do waye therefore thy practysde plaintes, bemone thy selfe no more.
For he that hath the use of goodes, cannot be judged poore.
If that thy bellie, sydes, and féete, and all thy partes be well,
Not wealth of kinges can adde to owght that doth this wealth excell.
[tr. Drant (1567)]

Therefore leave off complaining that thou'rt poor:
For he's not poor, whom fortune does produce,
What e're is necessary for his use.
If thou canst get good Diet, and warm Cloaths,
Caesars Estate can't give thee more than those.
[tr. A. B.; ed. Brome (1666)]

My Friend complain no more,
He that hath things for use is never poor.
If Thou hast cleanly Food and Cloaths enough,
What more than this can kingly Wealth bestow?
[tr. Creech (1684)]

The cease complaining, friend, and learn to live.
He is not poor to whom kind Fortune grants,
Even with a frugal hand, what Nature wants.
Are you with food, and warmth, and raiment blest?
Not royal treasures are of more possest.
[tr. Francis (1747)]

Hush then vain murmurs -- throw complaint aside!
He ne'er is poor, whose wants are well supplied.
Possess'd of health and food and raiment, know
Arabia's treasures can no more bestow.
[tr. Howes (1845)]

Away with complaints! for that man is by no means poor, who has the use or everything, he wants. If it is well with your belly, your back, and your feet, regal wealth can add nothing greater.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

A truce to murmuring: with another's store
To use at pleasure, who shall call you poor?
Sides, stomach, feet, if these are all in health,
What more could man procure with princely wealth?
[tr. Conington (1874)]

No more complaining, friend! for poor
That man is not who can insure
Whate'er for life is needful found.
Let your digestion be but sound.
Your side unwrung by spasm or stitch.
Your foot unconscious of a twitch,
And could you be more truly blest,
Though of the wealth of kings possessed?
[tr. Martin (1881)]

Away with complaining -- for he is not a poor man who has a sufficiency for every need. If you have health in your stomach, your side, and your feet, the riches of kings can give you nothing superior.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

So stop complaining! The man is certainly not poor
Who has everything that he needs. A king’s own ransom
Can’t add a bit more, if your stomach and lungs
And feet are all right.
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]

He is not poor who has enough of things to use.
If it is well with your belly, chest and feet,
the wealth of kings can give you nothing more.
[Bartlett's (1968)]

Stop complaining.
No one is a pauper who has all the things he needs.
If your belly's good and your lungs and feet are healthy,
no royal treasure could add the slightest bit to yours.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

Stop complaining!
No one is poor who has enough of all he needs.
If your belly is full and your health is good and your feet
Don’t hurt, why would an emperor’s wealth be worth having?
[tr. Raffel (1983) "Ixus"]

No one is poor who can use whatever he has.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]

No more complaining!
The man who enjoys the use of commodities isn’t poor.
If stomach, chest, and feet are in good condition, then kings
with all their wealth can add nothing of greater value.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

Stop complaining:
He’s not poor whose enjoyment of things suffices.
If your lungs, stomach and feet are healthy, royal
Wealth can add nothing.
[tr. Kline (2015)]