Letter 16

Quintus Aurelius SymmachusUnknown|c. 373 AD|symmachus

So where am I supposed to find an abundant supply of words when you've lent me nothing in the way of literary capital?

Your Mosella [Ausonius's famous poem about the Moselle River] is flying through everyone's hands and hearts, consecrated by your divine verses — yet it only flows past my lips. Why, I ask, did you want me left out of that book? Did I seem to you too unrefined to appreciate it, or too stingy to praise it? Either way, you've seriously underestimated my talents or my character.

And yet, despite your embargo, I managed — barely — to get access to the poem. I'd like to keep quiet about what I think, to punish you with a fair silence. But my admiration overwhelms my resentment.

I know that river. I saw it years ago when I was following the standards of the emperors — a river equal to many, inferior to the greatest. But you, with the unexpected grandeur of your brilliant verses, have made it greater than the Egyptian Nile, colder than the Scythian Don, and more famous than our own local Tiber.

I wouldn't believe the things you say about the Moselle's origin and course — except that I know for certain you don't lie even in poetry. And where did you find those swarming schools of river fish, so varied in name and color, so different in size and flavor, which you've painted with the pigments of your verse beyond anything nature herself provides? I've dined at your table many times, and while I marveled at much of what was served in the governor's residence, I never once encountered fish of this kind. When did these fish come to life in your book, since they never appeared on your plates?

You think I'm joking? Trifling? I swear by the gods: I rank this poem of yours alongside the works of Virgil himself.

But I'll stop forgetting my grievance and wallowing in your praises, lest you count even my admiration as another feather in your cap — the admiration of a man you've offended. Scatter your volumes wherever you like and keep leaving me out: I'll still enjoy your work, thanks to the generosity of others. Farewell.

Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.

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