Alpheios:Sextus Propertius, Elegies (1)

Cynthia prima suis miserum me cepit ocellis,

contactum nullis ante cupidinibus.

tum mihi constantis deiecit lumina fastus

et caput impositis pressit Amor pedibus,

donec me docuit Castas odisse puellas

improbus, et nullo vivere consilio.

et mihi iam toto furor hic non deficit anno,

cum tamen adversos cogor habere deos.

Milanion nullos fugiendo, Tulle, labores

saevitiam durae contudit Iasidos.

nam modo Partheniis amens errabat in antris,

ibat et hirsutas ille videre feras;

ille etiam Hylaei percussus vulnere rami

saucius Arcadiis rupibus ingemuit.

ergo velocem potuit domuisse puellam:

tantum in amore preces et bene facta valent.

in me tardus Amor non ullas cogitat artis,

nec nec meminit notas, ut prius, ire vias.

at vos, deductae quibus est fallacia lunae

et labor in magicis sacra piare focis,

en agedum dominae mentem convertite nostrae,

et facite illa meo palleat ore magis!

tunc ego crediderim vobis et sidera et amnis

posse Cytaeines ducere carminibus.

et vos, qui sero lapsum revocatis, amici,

quaerite non sani pectoris auxilia.

fortiter et ferrum saevos patiemur et ignis,

sit modo libertas quae velit ira loqui.

ferte per extremas gentis et ferte per undas,

qua non ulla meum femina norit iter:

vos remanete, quibus facili deus annuit aure,

sitis et in tuto semper amore pares.

in me nostra Venus noctes exercet amaras,

et nullo vacuus tempore defit Amor.

hoc, moneo, vitate malum: sua quemque moretur

cura, neque neque assueto mutet amore locum.

quod si quis monitis tardas adverterit auris,

heu referet quanto verba dolore mea!

                              Cynthia's 
                              eyes 
                              first 
                              took 
                              me, poor 
                              unfortunate 
                              captive, previously 
                              affected 
                              by 
                              no 
                              passion :
         

                              then 
                              did 
                              Love 
                              cast 
                              down 
                              my 
                              resolute, disdainful 
                              eyes, and 
                              set 
                              foot 
                              on 
                              my 
                              neck : till 
                              in 
                              time 
                              he 
                              taught 
                              me, desperate 
                              power! to 
                              despise 
                              chaste 
                              maidens, and 
                              to 
                              live 
            recklessly.
         

                              Even 
                              now, my 
                              present 
                              mad 
                              pursuit 
                              flags 
                              not 
                              after 
                              a 
                              whole 
                              year, though 
                              I 
                              am 
                              forced 
                              to 
                              have 
                              the 
                              gods 
                              opposed 
                              to 
                              me.
         

                              Milanion, Tullus, by 
                              shrinking 
                              from 
                              no 
                              toils, broke 
                              down 
                              the 
                              stubborn 
                              cruelty 
                              of 
                              the 
                              daughter 
                              of 
                              Iasus :
         

                              for 
                              once 
                              he 
                              roamed 
                              of 
                              yore 
            crazed 
                              with 
                              love, amid 
            the 
            caves 
                              of 
                              Parthenius, and 
                              tracked 
                              the 
                              steps 
                              of 
                              shaggy 
                              wild 
                              beasts :
         

                              stricken 
                              too 
                              by 
                              the 
                              club 
                              of 
                              Hylaeus, he 
                              groaned, in 
                              pain, among 
                              Arcadian 
                              rocks.
         

                              Therefore 
                              was 
                              he 
                              able 
                              to 
                              tame 
                              the 
                              swift-footed 
                              damsel.
         

                              Such 
                              is 
                              the 
                              force 
                              of 
                              prayers 
                              and 
                              good 
                              deeds 
                              in 
                              love.
         

                              In 
                              me 
                              slow-witted 
                              Love 
                              devises 
            no 
                              plans, and 
                              forgets 
                              to 
                              travel, as 
                              before, in 
                              the 
                              beaten 
                              paths.
         

                              Come 
                              ye, that 
                              are 
                              skilled 
                              in 
                              bringing 
                              the 
                              moon 
                              down 
                              from 
                              the 
                              sky, and 
                              whose 
                              dread 
                              work 
                              it 
                              is 
                              to 
                              solemnize 
                              sacred 
                              rites 
                              with 
                              magic 
                              fire, come 
                              and 
                              turn 
                              the 
                              heart 
                              of 
                              my 
                              mistress, and 
                              make 
                              her 
                              more 
                              pale 
            than 
            myself.
         

                              Then 
                              I 
                              may 
                              believe 
                              you 
                              able 
                              to 
                              draw 
                              down 
                              the 
                              stars, and 
                              turn 
                              the 
                              course 
                              of 
                              rivers 
                              by 
                              Cytaean 
                              spells.
         

                              And 
                              you, my 
                              friends, who 
                              attempt 
                              too 
                              late 
                              to 
                              cry 
                              me 
                              back 
                              who 
                              am 
                              already 
                              fallen, find 
                              some 
                              help 
                              for 
                              my 
            wounded 
                              heart.
         

                              I 
                              will 
                              bear 
                              the 
                              knife 
            and 
                              torturing 
                              cautery 
                              unflinchingly : let 
                              me 
                              but 
                              have 
                              liberty 
                              to 
                              speak 
                              what 
                              my 
                              anger 
                              wills.
         

            Carry 
            me 
                              to 
                              end 
                              of 
                              the 
                              world, or 
                              over 
                              the 
                              seas, whither 
            no 
                              woman 
                              can 
                              know 
                              my 
                              track.
         

                              Remain 
                              ye, to 
                              whom 
                              the 
                              gods 
                              lend 
                              a 
                              willing 
                              ear, and 
                              may 
                              ye 
                              meet 
                              with 
                              kindred 
                              feelings, and 
            your 
            love 
                              fear 
                              no 
                              danger.
         

            Me 
                              my 
                              Venus 
                              torments 
                              with 
                              bitter 
                              nights, and 
                              Love 
                              at 
                              no 
                              time 
                              grants 
                              me 
                              a 
                              respite. Avoid, I 
                              warn 
                              you, this 
                              woe ;
         

                              let 
                              each 
                              hold 
                              to 
                              his 
                              own 
                              beloved 
                              one, and 
                              let 
                              no 
                              one 
                              abandon 
                              his 
                              wonted 
                              love.
         

                              But, if 
                              any 
                              one 
                              shall 
                              be 
                              slow 
                              to 
                              heed 
                              my 
                              warnings, alas! with 
                              how 
                              great 
                              grief 
                              will 
                              he 
                              remember 
                              my 
                              words!
         