Letter 9
For some time now the silent Lucrine waters have been longing for you, and the smooth bay of Baiae, and Puteoli [modern Pozzuoli] still busy with visitors, and Bauli in its grand silence. But there you sit at rustic Cora or at barren Formiae.
Come, if it's worth the trip! Hit the road and see for yourselves what better country looks like — where deep quiet reigns far from the crowds, where there's no limit to how long you can enjoy your holiday:
Where ivy-crowned Bacchus
covers the heights of Gaurus,
where Vulcan in his steaming
caverns cooks the middle depths,
where Thetis, rich with fish,
holds the deep, sister to Baiae,
where the wave runs hot, the air blows cool,
and gliding over it all in her dance,
smiling, the goddess born at Amathus —
mistress of salt spray and steam,
flower of the stars, Venus herself.
Do I sound like a man drunk on luxury, rambling into poetry? I don't care about literary reputation — it was the place, not my talent, that inspired this little exercise. But if my words are at all inviting, get moving. Come be happy with what's here, and let our luck hold for getting what we want. Farewell.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.
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