LETTER VIII
Sidonius to his dear Candidianus, greetings.
1. You congratulate me on being in Rome -- but with a touch of wit and some salt mixed in with the teasing. You say you are glad that at last your friend is seeing the sun, which I, as a drinker of Saone water, have presumably rarely glimpsed. So you reproach me with the fogs of my beloved Lyons, complaining that daylight, blocked by morning mist, is scarcely opened to us even by the midday heat.
2. And you hurl these taunts at me, you -- born and bred not so much in a town as in the oven of Caesena [Cesena, a small Italian town]? What you yourself thought of the charm or comfort of your native soil, you showed plainly enough when you left it. There you sit, more happily exiled in Ravenna, with your ears bored through by the Paduan mosquito, surrounded by the chattering mob of municipal frogs. In that swamp, where the natural order of all things is perpetually reversed: walls fall, waters stand still; towers float, ships sit grounded; the sick go walking, the doctors lie in bed; baths are freezing, houses are on fire; the living go thirsty, the dead go swimming; thieves keep watch, officials sleep; clergy practice usury, Syrians chant psalms; merchants serve in the army, soldiers do business; old men play ball, young men play dice; eunuchs take up arms, and barbarian allies take up letters.
3. You see what sort of city it is where you have set up your household gods -- a city that could more easily acquire territory than solid ground. So remember to go easy on the innocent Transalpines, who, content with the blessings of their own sky, deserve no great glory if they shine only by comparison with something worse. Farewell.
EPISTULA VIII
Sidonius Candidiano suo salutem.
1. Morari me Romae congratularis; id tamen quasi facete et fatigationum salibus admixtis: ais enim gaudere te, quod aliquando necessarius tuus videam solem, quem utique perr<aro> Arari<s potor> inspexerim. nebulas ergo mihi meorum Lugdunensium exprobras et diem quereris nobis matutina caligine obstructum vix meridiano fervore reserari.
2. et tu istaec mihi Caesenatis furni potius quam oppidi verna deblateras? de cuius natalis tibi soli vel iucunditate vel commodo quid etiam ipse sentires, dum migras, indicavisti; ita tamen, quod te Ravennae felicius exulantem auribus Padano culice perfossis municipalium ranarum loquax turba circumsilit. in qua palude indesinenter rerum omnium lege perversa muri cadunt aquae stant, turres fluunt naves sedent, aegri deambulant medici iacent, algent balnea domicilia conflagrant, sitiunt vivi natant sepulti, vigilant fures dormiunt potestates, faenerantur clerici Syri psallunt, negotiatores militant milites negotiantur, student pilae senes aleae iuvenes, armis eunuchi litteris foederati.
3. tu vide, qualis sit civitas, ubi tibi Lar familiaris incolitur, quae facilius territorium potuit habere quam terram. quocirca memento innoxiis Transalpinis esse parcendum, quibus caeli sui dote contentis non grandis gloria datur, si deteriorum collatione clarescant. vale.
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LETTER VIII
Sidonius to his dear Candidianus, greetings.
1. You congratulate me on being in Rome -- but with a touch of wit and some salt mixed in with the teasing. You say you are glad that at last your friend is seeing the sun, which I, as a drinker of Saone water, have presumably rarely glimpsed. So you reproach me with the fogs of my beloved Lyons, complaining that daylight, blocked by morning mist, is scarcely opened to us even by the midday heat.
2. And you hurl these taunts at me, you -- born and bred not so much in a town as in the oven of Caesena [Cesena, a small Italian town]? What you yourself thought of the charm or comfort of your native soil, you showed plainly enough when you left it. There you sit, more happily exiled in Ravenna, with your ears bored through by the Paduan mosquito, surrounded by the chattering mob of municipal frogs. In that swamp, where the natural order of all things is perpetually reversed: walls fall, waters stand still; towers float, ships sit grounded; the sick go walking, the doctors lie in bed; baths are freezing, houses are on fire; the living go thirsty, the dead go swimming; thieves keep watch, officials sleep; clergy practice usury, Syrians chant psalms; merchants serve in the army, soldiers do business; old men play ball, young men play dice; eunuchs take up arms, and barbarian allies take up letters.
3. You see what sort of city it is where you have set up your household gods -- a city that could more easily acquire territory than solid ground. So remember to go easy on the innocent Transalpines, who, content with the blessings of their own sky, deserve no great glory if they shine only by comparison with something worse. Farewell.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.