The parrot, the imitating bird from the eastern Indies, has died — go in crowds to his funeral, O birds!
§2.6.3Ite, piae volucres, et plangite pectora pinnis §2.6.4Et rigido teneras ungue notate genas; §2.6.5Horrida pro maestis lanietur pluma capillis, §2.6.6Pro longa resonent carmina vestra tuba!
Go, affectionate birds, and beat your breasts with your wings, and mark your tender cheeks with your hard claws; let your ruffled plumage be torn instead of sorrowful hair, let your songs resound instead of the long trumpet!
§2.6.7Quod scelus Ismarii quereris, Philomela, tyranni, §2.6.8Expleta est annis ista querela suis; §2.6.9Alitis in rarae miserum devertere funus — §2.6.10Magna, sed antiqua est causa doloris Itys.
As for the crime of the Ismarian tyrant which you lament, Philomela, that complaint has been fulfilled by its own years; turn aside to the wretched funeral of a rare bird — Itys is a great but ancient cause of grief.
All you who balance your flight in the clear air, yet you, friendly turtle-dove, grieve before others!
Your whole life was full of complete harmony, and a long and tenacious loyalty stood firm to the end.
§2.6.15Quod fuit Argolico iuvenis Phoceus Orestae, §2.6.16Hoc tibi, dum licuit, psittace, turtur erat.
What the Phocian youth was to Argive Orestes, this to you, parrot, as long as it was permitted, the turtle-dove was.
§2.6.17Quid tamen ista fides, quid rari forma coloris, §2.6.18Quid vox mutandis ingeniosa sonis, §2.6.19Quid iuvat, ut datus es, nostrae placuisse puellae? — §2.6.20Infelix, avium gloria, nempe iaces!
Yet what does that loyalty, what does the beauty of your rare color, what does your voice, clever at changing sounds, what does it avail that you pleased our girl since you were given? — Unhappy one, the glory of birds, indeed you lie low!
§2.6.21Tu poteras fragiles pinnis hebetare zmaragdos §2.6.22Tincta gerens rubro Punica rostra croco.
You were able to dull fragile emeralds with your feathers, wearing a scarlet beak dyed with red saffron.
There was no bird on earth more imitative of voices — you returned words so well with your lisping sound!
§2.6.25Raptus es invidia — non tu fera bella movebas; §2.6.26Garrulus et placidae pacis amator eras.
You were snatched away by envy — you did not stir up fierce wars; you were talkative and a lover of gentle peace.
See, quails live among their battles; and perhaps from that they frequently become old.
You were satisfied with the very least, nor, because of your love for speech, could you free your mouth for much food.
A nut was your food, poppy seeds the cause of sleep, and the moisture of simple water drove away your thirst.
§2.6.33Vivit edax vultur ducensque per aera gyros §2.6.34Miluus et pluviae graculus auctor aquae; §2.6.35Vivit et armiferae cornix invisa Minervae — §2.6.36Illa quidem saeclis vix moritura novem; §2.6.37Occidit illa loquax humanae vocis imago, §2.6.38Psittacus, extremo munus ab orbe datum!
The greedy vulture lives, and the kite drawing circles through the air, and the jackdaw, the herald of rain-water; the crow, hated by weapon-bearing Minerva, also lives — she indeed is scarcely to die for nine generations; but that talkative image of the human voice has died, the parrot, a gift given from the end of the earth!
The best are almost always snatched away first by greedy hands; the worse are filled with their own numbers.
Thersites saw the sad funeral of the man of Phylace, and Hector was already ashes while his brothers were alive.
Why should I recall the pious prayers of the fearful girl for you — prayers snatched away over the sea by the stormy South Wind?
The seventh day came, not about to show a following one, and Fate already stood for you with an empty spindle.
§2.6.47Nec tamen ignavo stupuerunt verba palato; §2.6.48Clamavit moriens lingua: 'Corinna, vale!' §2.6.49Colle sub Elysio nigra nemus ilice frondet, §2.6.50Udaque perpetuo gramine terra viret.
Yet words did not fail in your powerless palate; your dying tongue cried out: "Corinna, farewell!" Beneath the Elysian hill, a grove of dark holm-oak is in leaf, and the moist earth is green with everlasting grass.
§2.6.51Siqua fides dubiis, volucrum locus ille piarum §2.6.52Dicitur, obscenae quo prohibentur aves.
If there is any trust in doubtful matters, that place is said to be of affectionate birds, from which ill-omened birds are barred.
§2.6.53Illic innocui late pascuntur olores §2.6.54Et vivax phoenix, unica semper avis; §2.6.55Explicat ipsa suas ales Iunonia pinnas, §2.6.56Oscula dat cupido blanda columba mari.
There harmless swans feed far and wide, and the long-lived phoenix, always a unique bird; Juno's bird herself unfolds her feathers, the gentle dove gives kisses to her eager mate.
Received among these in a woodland home, the parrot draws the affectionate birds to his own words.
§2.6.59Ossa tegit tumulus — tumulus pro corpore magnus — §2.6.60Quo lapis exiguus par sibi carmen habet: §2.6.61Colligor ex ipso dominae placuisse sepulcro.
A mound covers his bones — a mound large in proportion to his body — where a tiny stone has a poem fitting for itself: "I am gathered from this very tomb to have pleased my mistress.
§2.6.62Ora fuere mihi plus ave docta loqui.
My mouth was skilled in speaking more than a bird's."