§1.7.1Siquis habes nostris similes in imagine vultus, §1.7.2deme meis hederas, Bacchica serta, comis.
If anyone has a countenance similar to mine in a portrait, remove the ivy, the Bacchic wreath, from my hair.
Those happy signs befit cheerful poets: the wreath is not suited to my temples.
§1.7.5hoc tibi dissimula, senti tamen, optime, dici, §1.7.6in digito qui me fersque refersque tuo, §1.7.7effigiemque meam fulvo complexus in auro §1.7.8cara relegati, quae potes, ora vides.
Dearest friend, pretend not to know, yet feel that this is being said to you, you who wear me on your finger and carry me back and forth, and clasping my image in yellow gold, you see the dear face of the exile, which is all you can do.
§1.7.9quae quotiens spectas, subeat tibi dicere forsan §1.7.10‘quam procul a nobis Naso sodalis abest! §1.7.11grata tua est pietas, sed carmina maior imago §1.7.12sunt mea, quae mando qualiacumque legas, §1.7.13carmina mutatas hominum dicentia formas, §1.7.14infelix domini quod fuga rupit opus.
Whenever you look at it, perhaps it may occur to you to say, ‘How far from us our companion Naso is!’ Your devotion is pleasing, but my songs are a greater image, which I bid you read, of whatever quality they may be, songs telling of the changed forms of men, a work which the unhappy flight of its master interrupted.
Departing, I myself, sad, with my own hand, placed in the fire, as I did many of my things.
§1.7.17utque cremasse suum fertur sub stipite natum §1.7.18Thestias et melior matre fuisse soror, §1.7.19sic ego non meritos mecum peritura libellos §1.7.20imposui rapidis viscera nostra rogis: §1.7.21vel quod eram Musas, ut crimina nostra, perosus, §1.7.22vel quod adhuc crescens et rude carmen erat.
And just as the daughter of Thestius is said to have burned her own son by means of a brand, and to have been a better sister than mother, so I placed upon the devouring pyre my innocent books, destined to perish with me, our very vitals: either because I hated the Muses, as being my accusation, or because the song was still growing and rough.
§1.7.23quae quoniam non sunt penitus sublata, sed extant— §1.7.24pluribus exemplis scripta fuisse reor— §1.7.25nunc precor ut vivant et non ignava legentem §1.7.26otia delectent admoneantque mei.
Since these have not been utterly destroyed, but still exist— I think they were written in several copies— now I pray that they may live and, not as a lazy leisure, delight the reader and remind him of me.
§1.7.27nec tamen illa legi poterunt patienter ab ullo, §1.7.28nesciet his summam siquis abesse manum,
Yet they cannot be read patiently by anyone, unless one knows that the final touch is lacking to them.
That work was snatched from the middle of the anvils, and the final file was lacking to my writings.
And I ask for indulgence instead of praise; I shall be praised abundantly, if, reader, I shall not be rejected by you.
§1.7.33hos quoque sex versus, in prima fronte libelli §1.7.34si praeponendos esse putabis, habe. ’ §1.7.35orba parente suo quicumque volumina tangis, §1.7.36his saltem vestra detur in urbe locus.
‘These six verses also, if you think they should be placed on the first page of the book, accept them.’ Whoever you are who touch these volumes bereaved of their parent, let at least a place be granted to them in your city.