Letter 484: You reproach me for my silence — and this when the birds have been stirred to song by spring.
To Olympius. (356 AD)
You reproach me for my silence — and this when the birds have been stirred to song by spring. Well then, I too raise my voice, since your letter has become my spring.
You will grant me this: to call my fear of removal a winter, and the relief from that fear the grace of spring. I hear through many people that this was accomplished for me, and may every blessing come to all who contributed.
If those who enjoy rivers would rightly be grateful to the springs from which they flow, then all these blessings must be credited to you. For from your judgment, I believe, everything flowed.
So much, then, has been amply fulfilled by you. But to those old troubles you knew afflicted my head, another ailment has been added — bitter and unrelenting — which only your hand could stop, since all others have failed.
I now lie prostrate from my kidneys [kidney disease], looking to one hope alone: your arrival. Or better yet, my dear friend, help me even by letter — make your remedy a written treatise, so that I may be saved and the doctors may learn by what method this affliction should be driven out.
AI-assisted translation — This translation was produced with AI assistance and has not been peer-reviewed. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek below for scholarly use.
Latin / Greek Original
Ὀλυμπίῳ. (356)
Ὅτι σιγῶ, μέμφῃ καὶ ταῦτα τῶν ὀρνίθων εἰς ᾠδὴν ὑπὸ
τοῦ ἦρος κεκινημένων. ἰδοὺ δή, φθέγγομαι καὶ αὐτός, ἐπειδή
μοι τὰ γράμματα ἔαρ ὑπὸ σοῦ γεγένηται.
δώσεις γάρ μοι
τὸν μὲν περὶ τῆς μεταστάσεως φόβον χειμῶνα καλεῖν, τοῦ
φόβου δὲ τὴν ἀπαλλαγὴν ἦρος χάριν. ἣν διὰ πολλῶν μὲν
ἀκούω μοι πεπρᾶχθαι, καὶ πολλά γε ἀγαθὰ γένοιτο πᾶσιν
ὁπόσοι τι συνεισήνεγκαν.
εἰ δ’ οἱ τῶν ποταμῶν ἀπολαύ-
οντες εἰς καλὸν ταῖς πηγαῖς ἂν εἰκότως εἰδεῖεν τὴν χάριν, καὶ
τὰ τούτων ἁπάντων σὰ θετέον. ἀπὸ γὰρ τῆς σῆς, οἶμαι, γνώ-
μης ἅπαντα ἐρρύη.
ταυτὶ μὲν οὖν ἱκανῶς ἐκπεπλήρωταί
σοι, τοἶς κακοῖς δὲ ἐκείνοις ἃ περὶ τὴν κεφαλὴν ᾔδεις ὄντα
μοι προσετέθη κακὸν ἕτερον πικρόν τε καὶ συνεχές, ὃ παῦσαι
τῆς σῆς ἂν εἴη χειρός, ὡς αἴ γε τῶν ἄλλων ἥττηνται.
καὶ
κεῖμαι νῦν ὑπὸ τῶν νεφρῶν εἰς ἐλπίδα μίαν τὴν σὴν ἄφιξιν
ὁρῶν. μᾶλλον δέ, καὶ δι’ ἐπιστολῆς, ὦ δαιμόνιε, βοήθει καὶ
ποίησον τὴν βοήθειαν βιβλίον, ὅπως ἐμοί τε ᾐ σωθῆναι καὶ
τοῖς ἰατροῖς μαθεῖν, ὅτῳ τρόπῳ τὸ πάθος ἐξοριστέον.
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