XII. Item ad eundem
More to Jovinus, Patrician and Governor
Time lapses and flies; we are deceived by the fleeting hours; slippery life draws men into old age. The rolling axle pulls to a swift end without a rope, and no bridle holds back the rapid wheels — carrying with it all moments and weights of things, until the finishing post forces the eager horses to a stop. So too, however different we are, we all tend toward the end; no one draws back his foot from where his boundary will be.
Imperial authority, kingdoms, the ambition of generals — all things vanish like smoke. The Lydian Croesus [the proverbially wealthy king of Lydia, conquered by Cyrus of Persia] found that the power he trusted vanished; Alexander [the Great] lay still in Babylon though he had shaken the world; the arrogant pride of Xerxes [the Persian king who invaded Greece] melted away. Julius Caesar [murdered in the Senate, 44 BC] fell though he wore the purple of empire. The very names of greatness pass.
But Jovinus — you have built something that will remain. Not in stone, not in gold, but in the hearts of those you have served well.
For who in our time carries the old Roman tradition as you do? The law administered with justice, the province protected from its governors' greed, the city defended with walls that are built not just of stone but of an official's honest purpose — these are your works. You have given Gaul a reason to remember what Rome once meant.
Your eloquence is the last of a line that began with Cicero [the great Roman orator]. Your knowledge of the law would have honored the Antonine age [the period of the "good emperors" — Hadrian, Antoninus Pius, Marcus Aurelius, 117-192 AD]. Your generosity in hospitality — your table where the hungry scholar finds both food and conversation — these things are rarer now than any jewel.
I praise you not to flatter but to record. In writing these words I am doing what historians do: marking what is worth preserving for a time when all of us are gone.
May God give you long years, Jovinus. Gaul cannot afford to lose what you represent.
XII
Item ad eundem
Tempora lapsa volant, fugitivis fallimur horis,
ducit et in senium lubrica vita viros.
fine trahit celeri sine fune volubilis axis
nec retinet rapidas ad sua frena rotas,
cuncta movens secum momenta et pondera rerum,
donec meta avidos sistere cogat equos.
sic quoque dissimiles ad finem tendimus omnes,
nemo pedem retrahit quo sibi limes erit.
imperiale caput, regnum trahit, aeque senatum,
nec spectante die, cum venit, hora rapit.
quid sunt arma viris? cadit Hector et ultor Achilles,
Aiax, in clipeo murus Achaeus, obit.
quid satis est cupido, gremio quod condit avaro?
deliciis resolvis Attalus auctus abest.
quis non versutus recubet dum fine supremo?
de Palamede potens ars in Vlixe perit.
forma venusta fluit, cecidit pulcherrimus Astur,
occubat Hippolytus nec superextat Adon.
non agiles fugiunt; quo terminus instat eundum:
nam cum fratre celer sorte Quirinus obit.
quid, rogo, cantus agit? modulis blanditus acutis
Orpheus et citharae vox animata iacet.
docta recessuris quid prodest lingua sophistis,
qui valuere loqui curva rotunda poli?
Archyta Pythagoras Aratus Cato Plato Chrysippus,
turba Cleantharum stulta favilla cubat.
quidve poema potest? Maro lysa Menander Homerus,
quorum nuda tabo membra sepulchra tegunt?
cum venit extremum, neque Musis carmina prosunt,
nec iuvat eloquio detinuisse melos.
sic, dum puncta cadunt, fugiunt praesentia rerum,
et vitae tabulam tessera rapta levat.
est tamen una salus, pia maxima dulcis et ampla:
perpetuo trino posse placere deo.
hoc valet atque viget, manet et neque fine peribit,
hinc quoque post tumulum nascitur almus honor.
quod superest obitu meritorum flore beato,
suavis iustorum fragrat odor tumulo;
gratius aura fluens quam spiret aroma Sabaeum,
vincens quae pinguis balsama silva reflat.
cinnama calta crocus violae rosa lilia cedunt,
ut similis nullus nare bibatur odor.
quid quod morte magis virtus generatur in illis,
dumque sepulchra tenent languida membra fovent?
multorum dubiam solidant pia funera vitam
et redit ex tumulo vivificatus homo.
nobilis urna tegit pretiosa talenta tonantis
ac terris recubat quod super astra volet.
qui sub amore dei sacro moderamine vivens
fit peregrinus humi, civis eundo poli.
denique post illos qui fundamenta coruscant,
postque Petri ac Pauli lumina prima fide,
quis numerus radiat sanctorum sparsus in orbe,
quanta columnarum gratia fusa viget!
per loca, per populos mundo sua sidera praesunt,
quidquid ab Oceanis circulus ambit aquis.
arctos meridies oriens occasus honorat
lumina muneribus clarificata suis.
de reliquo nihil est quodcumque videtur in orbe,
nam tumor hic totus fumus et umbra sumus. –
Cur igitur metu trahitur data vita susurro,
nec Fortunato pauca, Iovine, refers?
tempora lapsa vides neque longa silentia rumpis,
me quoque ne necrees ad mea damna taces.
non ita rebar ovans, postquam Germania nostros
contulerat visus, ut resileret amor.
credideram potius, quantum se tenderet aetas,
ut vestri affectus se duplicaret opus.
heu magis, ut video, vota in contraria currunt:
tempora longantur, sed breviatur amor.
an quantum ex oculo, tantum tibi corde recedo,
et tam longe animo quam sumus ambo loco?
non ego sic refero, quoniam tibi pectore nector:
praedicat hoc aliter mens ubi dulce fovet.
nam cui cara fides animum sociavit amici,
quod minus est oculis flagrat amore magis,
et licet absentem paries locus aula retentet,
corde suo illic est, est ubi forma placens.
prospicit affectu quem vultu non videt ipso,
et vox longinqua de regione sonat.
quid gerat aut ubi sit, tacito dare verba videtur;
intra se loquitur pectore clausus amor.
si volat aura levis, putat inde venire salutes:
hoc fragor aure refert quod homo mente gerit.
hinc tuus ergo cliens ego, care colende, requiro,
absentem faciunt quem loca, non animus,
qui semper nostro memoralis haberis in ore:
scribimus et haec dum, non sine te loquimur.
affectu studio voto tua brachia cingo
atque per amplexum pectora, colla ligo.
ingrederis mecum pariterque moveris amator,
et quasi blanda loquens oscula libo labris.
ante oculos habeo, sed cara refugit imago,
hic quoque quem habeo non retinere queo.
alternis vicibus modo vadis et inde recurris:
vix fugis ex oculis, ecce figura redis.
et cum terga dabis, facies mihi cernitur insons;
si pede conversus, fronte regressus ades.
saepe etiam videor dare te pia dicta relatu:
illic forte taces, hic mihi verba refers.
hoc de te minus est, quia prendi non potes absens;
nam velut illic es totus et hic meus es.
qualiter ambo simul paucis habitavimus horis
non fugit ex oculis , dum manet ista dies,
misimus o quotiens timidis epigrammata chartis!
et tua, ne recreer, pagina muta silet.
quis, rogo, reddat eas taciti quas perdimus horas?
tempora non revocat lux levis atque fugax.
dic homo note meus: quid agis? quid, amice , recurris?
si tua rura colis, cur mea vota neges?
scribe vacans animo, refer alta poemata versu
et quasi ruris agrum me cole voce, melo;
per thoraca meum ducas, precor, oris aratrum 7
ut linguae sulcus sint sata nostra tuus,
pectoris unde seges gravidis animetur aristis,
pullulet et nostrum farra novale ferax.
nam mihi si loqueris, bone vir, pietatis opimae
exsuperas labiis dulcia mella favis,
plusque liquore placet quem fert oleagina suco,
suavius et recreat quam quod aroma reflat.
cum Aspasio pariter caris patre, fratre Leone
longa stante die, dulcis amice, vale.
◆
XII. Item ad eundem More to Jovinus, Patrician and Governor
Time lapses and flies; we are deceived by the fleeting hours; slippery life draws men into old age. The rolling axle pulls to a swift end without a rope, and no bridle holds back the rapid wheels — carrying with it all moments and weights of things, until the finishing post forces the eager horses to a stop. So too, however different we are, we all tend toward the end; no one draws back his foot from where his boundary will be.
Imperial authority, kingdoms, the ambition of generals — all things vanish like smoke. The Lydian Croesus [the proverbially wealthy king of Lydia, conquered by Cyrus of Persia] found that the power he trusted vanished; Alexander [the Great] lay still in Babylon though he had shaken the world; the arrogant pride of Xerxes [the Persian king who invaded Greece] melted away. Julius Caesar [murdered in the Senate, 44 BC] fell though he wore the purple of empire. The very names of greatness pass.
But Jovinus — you have built something that will remain. Not in stone, not in gold, but in the hearts of those you have served well.
For who in our time carries the old Roman tradition as you do? The law administered with justice, the province protected from its governors' greed, the city defended with walls that are built not just of stone but of an official's honest purpose — these are your works. You have given Gaul a reason to remember what Rome once meant.
Your eloquence is the last of a line that began with Cicero [the great Roman orator]. Your knowledge of the law would have honored the Antonine age [the period of the "good emperors" — Hadrian, Antoninus Pius, Marcus Aurelius, 117-192 AD]. Your generosity in hospitality — your table where the hungry scholar finds both food and conversation — these things are rarer now than any jewel.
I praise you not to flatter but to record. In writing these words I am doing what historians do: marking what is worth preserving for a time when all of us are gone.
May God give you long years, Jovinus. Gaul cannot afford to lose what you represent.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.