- Source
- Seneca, Lucius Annaeus. Ad Lucilium Epistulae Morales, Vol 1-3. Gummere, Richard Mott, editor. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann, Ltd., 1917-1925.
- Translation
- AI-generated (gemini-3.5-flash) — machine translation; may contain errors
- Languages
- 日本語 · English · 简体中文 · 한국어
- CTS URN
- urn:cts:latinLit:phi1017.phi015.humanitext-lat2:63.9-63.16
- Generated
- Humanitext Reader · reader.humanitext.ai · 2026-11-04
Seneca argues against the futility of prolonged mourning, urging Lucilius to actively discard his grief and seek new friends instead of waiting for time to heal him. He reflects on his own past failure when he immoderately wept for his young friend Serenus, emphasizing the necessity of constantly anticipating the mortality of those we love.
Feras1 autem hos, qui neglegentissime amicos habent, miserrime lugent, nec amant quemquam, nisi perdiderunt? Ideoque tunc effusius maerent, quia verentur, ne dubium sit, an amaverint; sera indicia adfectus sui quaerunt.
But can you tolerate these people who treat their friends most neglectfully, yet mourn them most wretchedly, and love no one unless they have lost them? And they grieve more effusively then for this reason, because they fear lest it be doubtful whether they loved them; they seek late-coming proofs of their affection.
Si habemus alios amicos, male de iis et meremur et existimamus, qui parum valent2 in unius elati solacium; si non habemus, maiorem iniuriam ipsi nobis fecimus quam a fortuna accepimus; illa unum abstulit, nos, quemcumque non fecimus.
If we have other friends, we both deserve badly of them and think poorly of them, in judging that they have too little power to comfort us for one buried friend; if we do not have them, we have done a greater injury to ourselves than we have received from Fortune; she took away one, but we have lost all those whom we did not make our friends.
Deinde ne unum quidem nimis amavit, qui plus quam unum amare non potuit. Si quis despoliatus amissa unica tunica conplorare se malit quam circumspicere, quomodo frigus effugiat et aliquid inveniat, quo tegat scapulas, nonne tibi videatur stultissimus? Quem amabas, extulisti; quaere, quem ames.
Furthermore, he did not love even one enough, who could not love more than one. If someone who was despoiled and lost his only tunic should prefer to wail rather than to look around for how he might escape the cold and find something to cover his shoulders, would he not seem to you most foolish? You have buried the one you loved; seek someone to love.
Satius est amicum reparare quam flere. Scio pertritum iam hoc esse, quod adiecturus sum, non ideo tamen praetermittam, quia ab omnibus dictum est: finem dolendi etiam qui consilio non fecerat, tempore invenit. Turpissimum autem est in homine prudente remedium maeroris lassitudo maerendi. Malo relinquas dolorem quam ab illo relinquam,3 et quam primum id facere desiste, quod etiam si voles, diu facere non poteris.
It is better to replace a friend than to weep. I know that what I am about to add is already well-worn, yet I shall not omit it just because it has been said by everyone: even the one who did not end his grieving by deliberate decision finds an end to it through time. But for a wise man, the most shameful remedy for grief is weariness of grieving. I prefer that you leave your grief rather than be left by it, and cease as soon as possible to do that which, even if you wish, you will not be able to do for long.
Annum feminis ad lugendum constituere maiores, non ut tam diu lugerent, sed ne diutius; viris nullum legitimum tempus est, quia nullum honestum. Quam tamen mihi ex illis mulierculis dabis vix retractis a rogo, vix a cadavere revulsis, cui lacrimae in totum mensem duraverint?4 Nulla res citius in odium venit quam dolor, qui recens consolatorem invenit et aliquos ad se adducit, inveteratus vero deridetur, nec inmerito. Aut enim simulatus aut stultus est.
Our ancestors established a year of mourning for women, not so that they should mourn for so long, but that they should not mourn longer; for men there is no legal period, because none is honorable. Yet, which of those women, barely dragged back from the pyre, barely torn away from the corpse, will you point out to me whose tears lasted for a whole month? Nothing comes more quickly into hatred than grief, which when fresh finds a comforter and brings some people to its side, but when long-standing is derided, and not undeservedly. For it is either feigned or foolish.
Haec tibi scribo is, qui Annaeum Serenum, carissimum mihi, tam inmodice flevi, ut, quod minime velim, inter exempla sim eorum, quos dolor vicit. Hodie autem factum meum damno et intellego maximam mihi causam sic lugendi fuisse, quod numquam cogitaveram mori eum ante me posse. Hoc unum mihi occurrebat, minorem esse et multo minorem, tamquam ordinem fata servarent.
I write this to you as one who wept for Annaeus Serenus, my dearest friend, so immoderately that, though I least desire it, I am among the examples of those whom grief conquered. Today, however, I condemn my action, and I realize that the greatest cause for my mourning in such a way was that I had never reflected that he could die before me. Only this occurred to me, that he was younger, and much younger, as if the Fates preserved order.
Itaque adsidue cogitemus tam de nostra quam omnium, quos diligimus, mortalitate. Tunc ego debui dicere: "Minor est Serenus meus; quid ad rem pertinet? Post me mori debet, sed ante me potest." Quia non feci, inparatum subito fortuna percussit. Nunc cogita omnia et mortalia esse et incerta lege mortalia. Hodie fieri potest, quicquid umquam potest.
Therefore, let us constantly reflect on our own mortality as well as that of all those whom we love. At that time I ought to have said: “My Serenus is younger; what does it matter? He ought to die after me, but he can die before me.” Because I did not do this, Fortune struck me suddenly when I was unprepared. Now reflect that all things are mortal, and mortal by an uncertain law. Whatever can happen at any time can happen today.
Cogitemus ergo, Lucili carissime, cito nos eo perventuros, quo illum pervenisse maeremus. Et fortasse, si modo vera sapientium fama est recipitque nos locus aliquis, quem putamus perisse, praemissus est. VALE.
Let us reflect, therefore, my dearest Lucilius, that we shall soon arrive at that place where we grieve that he has arrived. And perhaps, if only the report of wise men is true and some place receives us, he whom we think has perished he has been sent ahead. FAREWELL.
- 63.9Feras
Second-person singular present subjunctive. Accompanied by a question mark, it functions as a potential (or deliberative) subjunctive expressing indignation or doubt: "Could you tolerate...?"
- 63.10qui parum valent
The antecedent is alios amicos. This relative clause functions characteristically to express a reason, establishing the causal connection: "by judging that our other friends are insufficient to comfort us for one deceased friend, we do them an injustice."
- 63.12Malo relinquas dolorem quam ab illo relinquam
Subjunctive led by malo (malle). The latter part ab illo relinquam is best interpreted according to the variant reading relinquaris (second-person singular passive), establishing a sharp contrast: "I prefer that you actively leave your grief rather than be passively left by it (as it naturally fades over time)."
- 63.13cui lacrimae in totum mensem duraverint
The relative pronoun cui is singular, referring to one individual among the mulierculis. The subjunctive duraverint forms a relative clause of characteristic (expressing result), meaning "a woman of such a kind whose tears lasted..."
Translated by Gemini 3.5 Flash (published 2026-05-25) · Revision history (1, latest 2026-09-21)
- 2026-09-21 AI review — translation 1