§5.3.1Illa dies haec est, qua te celebrare poetae, §5.3.2si modo non fallunt tempora, Bacche, solent, §5.3.3festaque odoratis innectunt tempora sertis, §5.3.4et dicunt laudes ad tua vina tuas.
This is that day, on which the poets are accustomed, if only I do not mistake the season, Bacchus, to celebrate you, and bind their festive temples with fragrant wreaths, and sing your praises over your wine.
§5.3.5inter quos, memini, dum me mea fata sinebant, §5.3.6non invisa tibi pars ego saepe fui, §5.3.7quem nunc suppositum stellis Cynosuridos Ursae §5.3.8iuncta tenet crudis Sarmatis ora Getis, §5.3.9quique prius mollem vacuamque laboribus egi §5.3.10in studiis vitam Pieridumque choro, §5.3.11nunc procul a patria Getieis circumsonor armis §5.3.12multa prius pelago multaque passus humo.
Among whom, I remember, while my fates permitted me, I myself was often a part not unwelcome to you, whom now, placed under the stars of the Cynosure Bear, the Sarmatian coast joined with the fierce Getians holds, and I who previously led a soft life, free from labors, in studies and in the chorus of the Muses, now far from my homeland am surrounded by Getic arms, having previously suffered many things on the sea and many on land.
§5.3.13sive mihi casus sive hoc dedit ira deorum, §5.3.14nubila nascenti seu mihi Parca fuit, §5.3.15tu tamen e sacris hederae cultoribus unum §5.3.16numine debueras sustinuisse tuo.
Whether chance gave this to me, or the wrath of the gods, or whether a cloudy Fate was present for me at my birth, you, however, ought to have supported with your divine power one from the sacred cultivators of your ivy.
Or does whatever the sister Fates, mistresses of destiny, have sung, completely cease to be under the judgment of a god?
You yourself also were carried to the heavenly citadels by your merits, to which the way was made with no small labor.
§5.3.21nec patria est habitata tibi, sed adusque nivosum §5.3.22Strymona venisti Marticolamque Geten, §5.3.23Persidaque et lato spatiantem flumine Gangen, §5.3.24et quascumque bibit decolor Indus aquas.
Nor was your homeland inhabited by you, but you came all the way to snowy Strymon and the war-worshipping Getian, and to Persia and the Ganges wandering with its broad stream, and whatever waters the dark-colored Indian drinks.
To be sure, the Parcae, spinning the fatal threads, sang this law twice to you who were twice-born.
Me also, if it is lawful to go by the examples of the gods, an iron and difficult lot of life oppresses.
Nor did I fall more lightly than he whom Jove repelled from Thebes with his fire when he spoke proud things.
§5.3.31ut tamen audisti percussum fulmine vatem, §5.3.32admonitu matris condoluisse potes, §5.3.33et potes aspiciens circum tua sacra poëtas, §5.3.34nescioquis nostri
dicere
cultor abest. §5.3.35fer, bone Liber, opem: sic altera degravet ulmum §5.3.36vitis et incluso plena sit uva inero, §5.3.37sic tibi cum Bacchis Satyrorum gnava iuventus §5.3.38adsit, et attonito non taceare sono, §5.3.39ossa bipenniferi sic sint male pressa Lycurgi, §5.3.40impia nec poena Pentheos umbra vacet, §5.3.41sic micet aeternum vicinaque sidera vincat §5.3.42coniugis in caelo clara corona tuae.
Yet as you heard of the poet struck by the lightning, you can have grieved at the reminder of your mother, and you can, looking around at the poets about your sacred rites, say: "Someone who is a cultivator of ours is absent." Bring, good Liber, help: so may another vine weigh down the elm, and the grape be full of enclosed wine; so may the active youth of the Satyrs be present with you with the Bacchants, and may you not be silent in stunned sound; so may the bones of the axe-bearing Lycurgus be ill pressed, and may the impious shade of Pentheus not be free from punishment; so may the bright crown of your wife shine eternally in heaven and surpass the neighboring stars.
Be present here, O most beautiful one, and relieve our misfortunes, remembering that I am one of your number.
There is commerce between the gods; try to bend the Caesarean deity with your deity, Bacchus.
§5.3.47vos quoque, consortes studii, pia turba, poetae, §5.3.48haec eadem sumpto quisque rogate mero.
You too, partners in study, a pious crowd, O poets, pray each for these same things when the wine is taken.
§5.3.49atque atque vestrum, Nasonis nomine dicto, §5.3.50opponat lacrimis pocula mixta suis, §5.3.51admonitusque mei, cum circumspexerit omnes, §5.3.52dicat
ubi est nostri pars modo Naso chori? §5.3.53idque ita, si vestrum merui candore favorem, §5.3.54nullaque iudicio littera laesa meo est, §5.3.55si, veterum digne veneror cum scripta virorum, §5.3.56proxima non illis esse minora reor.
And let one of you, when the name of Naso has been spoken, oppose cups mixed with his own tears, and reminded of me, when he has looked around at everyone, let him say: "Where is Naso, who just now was a part of our chorus?" And let this be so, if I have deserved your favor by my sincerity, and no writing has been harmed by my judgment, if, while I worthily venerate the writings of ancient men, I think that recent ones are not inferior to them.