ovid, heroides translation

december 1, 2020

was some great good, he wouldn’t trust it to a stranger. I grant the sea’s not fit for swimming: but last night the wind became more gentle. No doubt you might be grieved by an omen of my death. Please refer to our Privacy Policy. nor complain the sea is harsh for swimming. If you’ll do this, when the signal’s sounded. and scarcely a boat remains safe at its moorings. placed it after XIV because of the presence of some verses from it in that position in two MSS. riding the waves, I’m both sailor and ship, I don’t follow, Helice, the Great Bear, or Arctos, the Little Bear. I believe, you’re often ill. She protects your interests, she’s anxious lest you perjure yourself. Your ignorance of it will forgive your past sin: the agreement you recited slipped from your mind. He takes your hand and, hated by the gods, and by me. But if your pleasure be to fly afar from Pelasgian Sappho – and yet you will find no cause for flying from me – ah, at least let a cruel letter tell me this in my misery, that I may seek my fate in the Leucadian wave! The fear’s often greater than the risk in these things: who’s afraid ends up ashamed, for what they might have lost. Books I to VII. I was alight, though the fire was far from me. At times I’m afraid lest my race harms me, and a Thracian girl. and I held my gaze on my lap as it if were fixed there. as the distance grows less, my joy increases. 2. and complained that too little sail was set for the wind. My father had gone out of my chamber; then at length could I beat my breasts and furrow my cheeks with the nail. Tears failed my eyes, and words my tongue; my breast was fast frozen with icy chill. She gives a nod: she doesn’t care about my kisses. Alas! You may accept or manage cookie usage at any time. Hein. Look, I again write, and send you, words of pleading! I must weep, for my love – and elegy is the weeping strain; no lyre is suited to my tears. and, hesitation conquered by time, give you my hand. Do you trust me in this? and, born from the waves, she smoothes the sea-lanes. as long as love’s shown to be the reason for it. and gave my eyes an opening to your nakedness. oh you, received deep within me, by my whole heart! when I cried to you: ‘You are so reckless, I’ll be mourning your courage in misery.’. I saw you, and I was undone; nor did I kindle with ordinary fires, but like the pine-torch kindled before the mighty gods. Of all the abducted have any been brought back by armies? Lest thou steal him in Cephalus’ place, I ever feared, Aurora – and so thou wouldst do, but that thy first prey holds thee still. Still it should be said. Nor do I think Menelaus will be preferred to me, in your mind, I’ll certainly not give you Atreus as a father-in-law, who banishes. The wifely love I bore you has torn at my faithful heart. of Pelops, Tantalus’s son, and of Tyndareus: Leda, deceived by the swan, gave me Jupiter for a father. solitary, crowded with pines and holm-oaks. Deianira to Hercules 10. as if the sand might retain the marks traced there: and to ask about you and write to you, I search out, if anyone. Phyllis to Demophoon 3. when you shine out, silver, with clear rays. and the course of my life is free of blemish. The waves shone with the image of the reflected moon. For neither a wretched storm, nor some error brought me here: Sparta’s land was what my fleet sought out. I return, unwillingly, to my country: who would believe it? Rather he sits here, as long as he’s allowed to: but he remembers that mine is a virgin bed. I’m not one who’s accustomed to criticise Paris’s actions. I have recognised the pressed-down grass of the turf I knew so well; the sod was hollowed from our weight. Enough: refrain from complaint. That beauty should enjoy copious adornments, without end. You yourself can see the sky blacker than pitch, and the strait. He rushes in and with cries makes known my shame to all, and scarce restrains his hand from my wretched face. If I am cheap in your eyes, be kind to our common offspring; a hard stepdame will be cruel to the fruitage of my womb. [15] Boreas came swooping down, seized on and stretched your sails, and my Protesilaus soon was far away. Hypsipyle’s a witness, and Ariadne, the Minoan virgin: You also, unfaithful man, have abandoned Oenone, You have still not denied it: and if you don’t know. but I fear lest your love strays like the wind. As long as I could gaze upon my lord, to gaze was my delight, and I followed your eyes ever with my own; when I could no longer see you, I still could see your sails, and long your sails detained my eyes. You are suited to hurling about great ships with your might.

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