And now ’tis done: more durable than brass
My monument shall he, and raise its head
O’er royal pyramids: it shall not dread
Corroding rain or angry Boreas,
Nor the long lapse of immemorial time.
[Exegi monumentum aere perennius
regalique situ pyramidum altius,
quod non imber edax, non aquilo impotens
possit diruere aut innumerabilis
annorum series et fuga temporum.]Horace (65-8 BC) Roman poet and satirist [Quintus Horacius Flaccus]
Odes [Carmina], Book 3, # 30, l. 1ff (3.30.1-5) (23 BC) [tr. Conington (1872)]
(Source)
Concluding ode from the 3rd Book, but interpreted as covering all three books of odes published to that date (there was a fourth book, but a significant intreval before he published a 4th). This sort of claim to literary immortality, while sounding a bit crazy to moderns, was not unusual in Roman (or Greek) writing.
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:A Work out-lasting Brass, and higher
Then Regal Pyramids proud Spire,
I have absolv'd. Which storming windes,
The Sea that turrets undermines,
Tract of innumerable daies,
Nor the rout of time can raze.
[tr. Fanshawe, ed. Brome (1666)]'TIs finish't; I have rais'd a Monument
More strong than Brass, and of a vast extent:
Higher than Egypt's statelyest Pyramid,
That costly Monument of Kingly Pride;
As High as Heaven the top, as Earth the Basis wide:
Which eating showers, nor North wind's feeble blast,
Nor whirling Time, nor flight of Years can wast.
[tr. Creech (1684)]I have completed a monument more lasting than brass, and more sublime than the regal elevation of pyramids, which neither the wasting shower, the unavailing north wind, nor an innumerable succession of years, and the flight of seasons, shall be able to demolish.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]I've reared a monument, my own,
More durable than brass,
Yea, kingly pyramids of stone
In height it doth surpass.
Rain shall not sap, nor driving blast
Disturb its settled base.
Nor countless ages rolling past
Its symmetry deface.
[tr. Martin (1864)]I have built a monument than bronze more lasting,
Soaring more high than regal pyramids,
Which nor the stealthy gnawing of the rain-drop,
Nor the vain rush of Boreas shall destroy;
Nor shall it pass away with the unnumbered
Series of ages and the flight of time.
[tr. Bulwer-Lytton (1870)]I have built my mausoleum of more enduring material than brass, and loftier than the royal Pyramids. Neither corroding rain, the furious North wind, the recurring cycles of years, nor the flight of time, will be able to destroy it.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]Now have I reared a monument more durable than brass,
And one that doth the royal scale of pyramids surpass,
Nor shall defeated Aquilo destroy, nor soaking rain,
Nor yet the countless tide of years, nor seasons in their train.
[tr. Gladstone (1894)]I a statue have rear'd longer to live than brass,
And more lofty than height royal of Pyramids;
Which nor storm can devour, nor headlong Aquilo
Overwhelm, or the great series innum'rable
Of the years as they roll, and the swift flight of time.
[tr. Phelps (1897)]I have wrought out a monument more durable than bronze,
And higher than the regal structure of the Pyramids,
Which not corroding rain, nor blustering Aquilo
May overthrow, or the innumerable
Series of years, and flight of time.
[tr. Garnsey (1907)]A monument I've achieved more strong than brass,
Soaring kings' pyramids to overpass;
Which not corroding raindrip shall devour,
Or winds that from the north sweep down in power,
Or years unnumbered as the ages flee!
[tr. Marshall (1908)]I have finished a monument more lasting than bronze and loftier than the Pyramids’ royal pile, one that no wasting rain, no furious north wind can destroy, or the countless chain of years and the ages’ flight.
[tr. Bennett (Loeb) (1912)]Lo, I have reared a monument that bronze shall not outlast,
More lofty than the pyramids that despots piled of yore;
Its strength defies devouring rain, defies the ungoverned blast
Of Aquilo, the wind that blows from where the North seas roar;
It shall survive when the unnumbered tale of years is past,
When days and months have ceased to be, and Time shall be no more.
[tr. Mills (1924)]More durable than bronze, higher than Pharaoh’s
Pyramids is the monument I have made,
A shape that angry wind or hungry rain
Cannot demolish, nor the innumerable
Ranks of the years that march in centuries.
[tr. Michie (1963)]The monument I've made for myself will outlast
Brass, reaches higher than Egyptian
Kings and their pyramids; nothing can corrode it,
No rain, no wind, nor the endless years
Flying past.
[tr. Raffel (1983)]Today I have finished a work outlasting bronze
And the pyramids of ancient royal kings.
The North Wind raging cannot scatter it
Nor can the rain obliterate this work,
Nor can the years, nor can the ages passing.
[tr. Ferry (1997)]I have erected a monument more durable than bronze,
loftier than the regal pile of pyramids
that cannot be destroyed either by
corroding rains or the tempestuous North wind
or the endless passage of the years
or the flight of centuries.
[tr. Alexander (1999)]I’ve raised a monument, more durable than bronze,
one higher than the Pyramids’ royal towers,
that no devouring rain, or fierce northerly gale,
has power to destroy: nor the immeasurable
succession of years, and the swift passage of time.
[tr. Kline (2015)]I constructed a monument of pyramids more durable than bronze
and higher than a royal site,
which the greedy rain, the raging North Wind
would not be able to tear apart or countless
series of years and flight of time.
[tr. Wikisource (2021)]
Quotations about:
eternal
Note not all quotations have been tagged, so Search may find additional quotes on this topic.
ENOBARBUS: Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety; other women cloy
The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies.William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet
Antony and Cleopatra, Act 2, sc. 2, l. 276ff (2.2.276-279) (1607)
(Source)
Love is the emblem of eternity; it confounds all notion of time; effaces all memory of a beginning, all fear of an end: we fancy that we have always possessed what we love, so difficult is it to imagine how we could have lived without it.
Germaine de Staël (1766-1817) Swiss-French writer, woman of letters, critic, salonist [Anne Louise Germaine de Staël-Holstein, Madame de Staël, Madame Necker]
Corinne, Book 8, ch. 2 (1807) [ed. Hill (1833)]
Alt. trans.: "It is certainly through love that eternity can be understood; it confuses all thoughts about time; it destroys the ideas of beginning and end; one thinks one has always been in love with the person one loves, so difficult is it to conceive that one could live without him." [tr. Raphael (1998)]
The God of Hell should be held in loathing, contempt and scorn. A God who threatens eternal pain should be hated, not loved — cursed, not worshiped. A heaven presided over by such a God must be below the lowest hell. I want no part in any heaven in which the saved, the ransomed and redeemed will drown with shouts of joy the cries and sobs of hell — in which happiness will forget misery, where the tears of the lost only increase laughter and double bliss.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“The Great Infidels” (1881)
(Source)
And do you know, it is a splendid thing to think that the woman you really love will never grow old to you. Through the wrinkles of time, through the mask of years, if you really love her, you will always see the face you loved and won. And a woman who really loves a man does not see that he grows old; he is not decrepit to her; he does not tremble; he is not old; she always sees the same gallant gentleman who won her hand and heart. I like to think of it in that way; I like to think that love is eternal. And to love in that way and then go down the hill of life together, and as you go down, hear, perhaps, the laughter of grandchildren, while the birds of joy and love sing once more in the leafless branches of the tree of age.
And then, do you know, I like to think that love is eternal; that if you really love the woman, for her sake, you will love her no matter what she may do; that if she really loves you, for your sake, the same; that love does not look at alterations, through the wrinkles of time, through the mask of years — if you really love her you will always see the face you loved and won. And I like to think of it. If a man loves a woman she does not ever grow old to him. And the woman who really loves a man does not see that he is growing older. He is not decrepit to her. He is not tremulous. He is not old. He is not bowed. She always sees the same gallant fellow that won her hand and heart. I like to think of it in that way, and as Shakespeare says: “Let Time reach with his sickle as far as ever he can; although he can reach ruddy cheeks and ripe lips, and flashing eyes, he can not quite reach love.” I like to think of it. We will go down the hill of life together, and enter the shadow one with the other, and as we go down we may hear the ripple of the laughter of our grandchildren, and the birds, and spring, and youth, and love will sing once more upon the leafless branches of the tree of age. I love to think of it in that way — absolute equals, happy, happy, and free, all our own.