§160Conscia fumabunt semper ad ora faces.
The torches conscious of your guilt will always smoke before your face.
Alive, you will be driven by these Furies, and dead, by the same, And your future life is shorter than your punishment.
§163Nec tibi continget funus lacrimaeque tuorum* §164Indeploratum proiciere caput; §165Carnificisque manu, populo plaudente, traheris, §166Infixusque tuis ossibus uncus erit.
Nor will a funeral and the tears of your people fall to your lot, And your unlamented head will be cast away; And you will be dragged by the hand of the executioner, while the people applaud, And a hook will be fixed in your bones.
The very flames, which consume all things, will flee from you; The just earth will reject your hated corpse.
A cruel vulture with talons and beak will drag out your entrails, And greedy dogs will tear your treacherous heart.
And over your body—though you may be proud of this honor— A strife will arise among insatiable wolves.
You will be summoned to places far different from the Elysian fields, And you will inhabit the dwellings which the guilty crowd occupies.
§175Sisyphus est illic saxum volvensque petensque, §176Quique agitur rapidae vinctus ab orbe rotae, §177Quaeque gerunt umeris perituras Belides undas, §178Exulis Aegypti, turba cruenta, nurus.
There is Sisyphus, rolling his stone and seeking it again, And he who is driven, bound by the rim of the rapid wheel, And the daughters of Belus, who carry on their shoulders water destined to be lost, The daughters-in-law of exiled Aegyptus, a bloody crowd.
§179Poma pater Pelopis praesentia quaerit, et idem §180Semper eget, liquidis semper abundat aquis; §181Iugeribusque novem summus qui distat ab imo, §182Visceraque assiduae debita praebet avi.
The father of Pelops seeks the fruits before him, and he likewise Is always in want, though always abounding in clear waters; And he who from top to bottom extends over nine jugera, And offers his entrails as a due to the persistent bird.
§183Hic tibi de Furiis scindet latus una flagello, §184Ut sceleris numeros confiteare tui: §185Altera Tartareis sectos dabit anguibus artus: §186Tertia fumantes incoquet igne genas.
Here, one of the Furies will tear your side with a whip for you, So that you may confess the full count of your crime: Another will give your severed limbs to Tartarean serpents: A third will cook your smoking cheeks with fire.
Your guilty shade will be torn in a thousand ways, and Aeacus will be ingenious in your punishments.
He will transfer to you the torments of ancient defendants: You will be the cause of rest for all the ancients.
§191Sisyphe, cui tradas revolubile pondus, habebis: §192Versabunt celeres nunc nova membra rotae: §193Hic et erit, ramos frustra qui captet et undas: §194Hic inconsumpto viscere pascet aves.
Sisyphus, you will have one to whom you may hand over your rolling weight: The swift wheels will now turn new limbs: Here too will be one who vainly catches at branches and waters: Here you will feed the birds with your unconsumed entrails.
Nor will another death end the punishments of this death, And there will be no final hour for such great evils.
From there I will sing of a few things, as if someone should pluck leaves from Ida, Or draw the surface water from the Libyan sea.
§199Nam neque quot flores Sicula nascantur in Hybla, §200Quotve ferat, dicam, terra Cilissa crocos, §201Nec cum tristis hiems Aquilonis inhorruit alis, §202Quam multa fiat grandine canus Athos; §203Nec mala voce mea poterunt tua cuncta referri, §204Ora licet tribuas multiplicata mihi.
For I will not say how many flowers grow in Sicilian Hybla, Or how many saffrons the Cilician land bears, Nor, when gloomy winter has shuddered with the wings of the North Wind, How white Athos becomes with so much hail; Nor can all your evils be related by my voice, Even though you should grant me multiplied mouths.
So many, alas! and such ruins will come upon you, wretched one, That I think even I could be forced to tears.
Those tears will make me endlessly happy: This weeping will then be sweeter to me than laughter.
You were born unhappy—so the gods willed—nor for you at birth Was any star favorable or gentle.
§211Non Venus affulsit, non illa Iuppiter hora, §212Lunaque non apto solque fuere loco, §213Nec satis utiliter positos tibi praebuit ignes §214Quem peperit magno lucida Maia Iovi.
Venus did not shine upon you, nor Jupiter at that hour, And the moon and the sun were not in a fitting place, Nor did he whom bright Maia bore to great Jupiter Offer you fires placed with sufficient utility.
The fierce stars of Mars, promising nothing peaceful, And of the scythe-bearing old man pressed upon you.
Even your birthday, so that you might see nothing but what was sad, Was foul and black with drawn-over clouds.
This is the day to which the grievous Allia gives its name in the calendar, And the day which brought forth Ibis, a public ruin.
§221Qui simul impurae matris prolapsus ab alvo §222Cinyphiam foedo corpore pressit humum, §223Sedit in adverso nocturnus culmine bubo, §224Funereoque graves edidit ore sonos.
As soon as he, having slipped from the womb of his impure mother, Pressed the Cinyphian soil with his foul body, A nocturnal owl sat on the opposite roof-top, And uttered heavy sounds from its funereal mouth.
§225Protinus Eumenides lavere palustribus undis, §226Qua cava de Stygiis fluxerat unda vadis, §227Pectoraque unxerunt Erebeae felle colubrae, §228Terque cruentatas increpuere manus.
Straightway the Eumenides washed him in marshy waters, Where the hollow wave had flowed from the Stygian shallows, And anointed his breast with the gall of an Erebean serpent, And thrice clapped their blood-stained hands.
§229Gutturaque imbuerant infantia lacte canino: §230Hic primus pueri venit in ora cibus: §231Perbibit inde suae rabiem nutricis alumnus, §232Latrat et in toto verba canina foro.
And they had moistened his infant throat with dog's milk: This was the first food that entered the boy's mouth: Thence the foster-child drank deep of the madness of his nurse, And barks dog-like words in the whole forum.
§233Membraque vinxerunt tinctis ferrugine pannis, §234A male deserto quos rapuere rogo: §235Et ne non fultum nuda tellure iaceret, §236Molle super silices inposuere caput.
And they bound his limbs with rags dyed with rust, Which they snatched from an ill-abandoned pyre: And lest he should lie unsupported on the bare earth, They placed his soft head upon hard flints.
And now, about to depart, torches made from green wood They brought right up to his eyes, beneath his face.