We sing of war that is worse than civil
waged on the plains of Emathia,
and of legality conferred on crime;
of a mighty people who began to turn,
with all dexterity,
to gutting itself;
of blood hatred between citizens;
and how,
in the sequel of tyranny’s broken contract,
the shocked powers of the world then stood
guilty and exposed;
and standards concussed
standards, and eagles crashed into eagles,
and javelins everywhere just going berserk...
What febrile turpitude, O citizens!
O countrymen! what vicious lapping and plunging!
To the people of nations hateful to us
you made a spectacle of Roman gore:
our deaths to entertain the enemy!
And all the while proud Babylon stood
ripe
for spoliation (but no you couldn't be bothered),
and all the while the ghost of Crassus skulked
lonely and unavenged.
I know not why,
but it pleased you better
to wage unwinnable wars.
And now look: so much blood on Roman hands…
How much sea and land
might that have bought!
Zones where the Titan comes,
where Night sifts
recondite stars,
where the midday is full
of fragrant burning air…
line 3: the translator is not ashamed to say he could not improve on J. D. Duff's translation of iusque datum sceleri (Harvard UP, 1928).
[ November 3, 2004 ]
