§5.7.1Quam legis, ex illa tibi venit epistula terra, §5.7.2latus ubi aequoreis additur Hister aquis, §5.7.3si tibi contingit cum dulci vita salute, §5.7.4candida fortunae pars manet una meae.
The letter you are reading comes to you from that land, where the wide Hister is added to the waters of the sea, if life with sweet health is granted to you, one bright part of my fortune remains.
§5.7.5scilicet, ut semper, quid agam, carissime, quaeris; §5.7.6quamvis hoc vel me scire tacente potes, §5.7.7sum miser; haec brevis est nostrorum summa malorum, §5.7.8quisquis et offenso Caesare vivit, erit.
Of course, as always, you ask what I am doing, my dearest; although you can know this even with me being silent, I am wretched; this is the short sum of our evils, and whoever lives with Caesar offended will be so.
Do you care to learn what the crowd of the Tomitan region is like, and among what manners I live?
§5.7.11mixta sit haec quamvis inter Graecosque Getasque, §5.7.12a male pacatis plus trahit ora Getis.
Though this shore is mixed between Greeks and Getans, it derives more from the scarcely pacified Getans.
§5.7.13Sarmaticae maior Geticaeque frequentia gentis §5.7.14per medias in equis itque reditque vias.
A greater crowd of the Sarmatian and Getan tribe goes and returns on horses through the middle of the roads.
§5.7.15in quibus est nemo, qui non coryton et arcum §5.7.16telaque vipereo lurida felle gerat, §5.7.17vox fera, trux vultus, verissima Martis imago, §5.7.18non coma, non ulla barba resecta manu, §5.7.19dextera non segnis fixo dare vulnera cultro, §5.7.20quem iunctum lateri barbarus omnis habet, §5.7.21vivit in his heu nunc, lusorum oblitus amorum, §5.7.22hos videt, hos vates audit, amice, tuus: §5.7.23atque utinam vivat non et moriatur in illis, §5.7.24absit ab invisis et tamen umbra locis.
Among whom there is no one who does not carry a quiver and a bow, and arrows lurid with viper's gall, a wild voice, a fierce face, the truest image of Mars, hair unshorn, and no beard trimmed by any hand, a right hand not slow to deal wounds with a fixed knife, which every barbarian has bound to his side, alas, your poet now lives among these, having forgotten his playful loves, these he sees, these he hears, my friend: and would that he may only live, and not die among them, let his shade, at least, be far from these hated places.
§5.7.25carmina quod pleno saltari nostra theatro, §5.7.26versibus et plaudi scribis, amice, meis, §5.7.27nil equidem feci tu scis hoc ipse—theatris, §5.7.28Musa nec in plausus ambitiosa mea est.
That you write, my friend, that my poems are danced in the full theater, and that my verses are applauded, I indeed made nothing—you know this yourself—for the theaters, nor is my Muse ambitious for applause.
§5.7.29non tamen ingratum est, quodcumque oblivia nostri §5.7.30impedit et profugi nomen in ora refert, §5.7.31quamvis interdum, quae me laesisse recordor, §5.7.32carmina devoveo Pieridasque meas, §5.7.33cum bene devovi, nequeo tamen esse sine illis, §5.7.34vulneribusque meis tela cruenta sequor, §5.7.35quaeque modo Euboicis lacerata est fluctibus, audet §5.7.36Graia Capheream currere puppis aquam.
Yet it is not unpleasing, whatever prevents the forgetting of us and brings back the exile's name to the lips of men, although sometimes I curse the poems and my Pierides, which I remember have harmed me, when I have cursed them well, yet I cannot be without them, and I pursue the bloody weapons that dealt my wounds, just as a Greek ship, lately shattered by Euboean waves, dares to run through the Capherean water.
Yet I do not keep awake to be praised, nor do I care for a future name, which would more usefully have remained hidden.
I occupy my mind with studies and deceive my grief, and try to give words also to my cares.
What rather should I do, alone on abandoned shores, or what other help should I try to seek for my evils?
§5.7.43sive locum specto, locus est inamabilis, et quo §5.7.44esse nihil toto tristius orbe potest, §5.7.45sive homines, vix sunt homines hoc nomine digni, §5.7.46quamque lupi, saevae plus feritatis habent.
Whether I look at the place, the place is unlovely, and than which nothing can be more gloomy in the whole world, or at the people, they are scarcely worthy of this name, and have more savage wildness than wolves.
They do not fear the laws, but justice yields to strength, and defeated rights lie under the combative sword.
§5.7.49pellibus et laxis arcent mala frigora bracis, §5.7.50oraque sunt longis horrida tecta comis, §5.7.51in paucis remanent Graecae vestigia linguae, §5.7.52haec quoque iam Getico barbara facta sono.
They keep off the bitter cold with skins and loose trousers, and their faces are covered, shaggy with long hair, in a few the traces of the Greek tongue remain, and this too has now become barbarous with Getic sound.
There is not a single person in this population who can by chance return any common words in Latin.
I, that Roman poet—forgive me, Muses!— am forced to speak many things in the Sarmatian manner.
Lo, I am ashamed and I confess, now from long disuse Latin words themselves scarcely occur to me.
§5.7.59nec dubito quin sint et in hoc non pauca libello §5.7.60barbara. non hominis culpa, sed ista loci.
And I do not doubt that there are not a few barbarous things in this book too; it is not the man's fault, but that of the place.
§5.7.61ne tamen Ausoniae perdam commercia linguae, §5.7.62et fiat patrio vox mea muta sono, §5.7.63ipse loquor mecum desuetaque verba retracto, §5.7.64et studii repeto signa sinistra mei.
Yet lest I lose the commerce of the Ausonian tongue, and my voice become mute to my native sound, I speak with myself and recall the unaccustomed words, and repeat the sinister standards of my study.
Thus I drag out my mind and time, thus I withdraw myself and remove myself from the contemplation of my evil.