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ovid, heroides translation

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That breast is mine! Would that either thou hadst seen fault in the face of the Taenarian wife, of she had taken no pleasure in thine! 2. If the forces of love are in the seed it could hardly be. kisses, great gods, worth seeking over the sea! Helen to Paris and the funeral torch, not the wedding torch, is here. There I, Medea, was what here your new bride is; as rich as her sire is, so rich was mine. Where then your royal consort, and the Isthmus that sunders the waters of two seas? straight away I set out the unsleeping lights in the tower’s top. And presently there grew apace the burden of my wayward bosom, and my weakened frame felt the weight of its secret load. drive away peace, stir bitter conflict, I’m punished. But you, wildest of the swift winds, why do you. if the airy approaches had wished to shut you out? 4. Phoebus loved Daphne, and Bacchus, too, loved the Gnosian maid, and neither one nor other knew the lyric mode; yet for me the daughters of Pegasus dictate sweetest songs; my name is already sun abroad in all the earth. The beauty and vigour of my spirit, though I might have seemed. You’ll promise gifts: she knows your promises are false. and calls me his with a humble expression. brought to your chaste hands, when I threw it to you: there you’ll find you promised that which I’d wish for you. [65] Of Hector, whoe’er he be, if I am dear to you, be ware; keep his name stamped in ever mindful heart! Why did you neglect it? Yet twice the sails were backed, in an opposing wind: I tell a lie, ah foolish! Spare my suffering, goddess, who delights in the ornate quiver. and, hesitation conquered by time, give you my hand. that the daughter of Jove and Leda could be chaste. If you’ll do this, when the signal’s sounded. I spoke these words or ones not unlike them. Ah me! to have been low-born, were signs of my secret nobility. Stanford Libraries' official online search tool for books, media, journals, databases, government documents and more. Without delay, his passion was turned from him, and fled from his tenacious breast, and Deucalion was freed from the fires of love. a statue of fresh marble looks like this: the silver set out on the table is the same. and scarcely a boat remains safe at its moorings. (The Loeb Classical Library.) Where the gods? And you mention your race, forebears, your royal name: this house is distinguished enough in its nobility. Also beauty is a burden: now I’m constantly praised. Take away afar, deluded Hymenaeus, they wedding-torches, and fly with frightened foot from these nefarious halls! I beg in vain: he roars in answer to my prayers. Where is that great swimmer scorning the tides? and the victor might have you, for his bed. I’ll suffer, if the suffering’s granted its prize. Phaedra to Hippolytus 5. I recognize the kisses – close caresses of the tongue – which you were wont to take and wont to give. The Parian Marble says that Sappho really was exiled and went to Sicily. and you would have been needful of my efforts. have deflected me: these might have captured my heart. To Mars the bulls belonged, raging with more than mere horns, for their breathing was of terrible fire; of solid bronze were their feet, wrought round with bronze their nostrils, made black, too, by the blasts of their own breath. – the bosom, Phaon, of her whom you were wont to praise, and who so often seemed to you to have the gift of genius. Do thou, nevertheless, O hoped for in vain by thy wretched sister, collect, I entreat, the scattered members of thy son, and bring them again to their mother to share her sepulchre, and let one urn, however scant, possess us both! and left me, in the middle of stating my requests. placed it after XIV because of the presence of some verses from it in that position in two MSS. I only pray my hope is not allowed to die, oh you. But you were swept headlong hence; and the wind that invited forth your sails was one your seamen longed for, not I; it was a wind suited to seamen, not to one who loved. you obstruct his wishes, he obstructs yours. and, while I can encircle your neck with my arms. 8. I spoke these words to myself in a low murmur. so that the gods will be ready to hear your prayers. Why gaze at thyself in the water’s shadow? [45] And now for the ninth time had Phoebus’ fairest sister risen, and for the tenth time the moon was driving on her light-bearing steeds. I’m not a low-born man choosing a noble wife. The joyful house increased, accepting a long lost child. Theseus snatched you, the Twins took the daughters of Leucippus: I’ll be numbered there too, as a fourth example. that I was said to be the prize for your judgement. and my face, unaware, came upon you bathing? Fear is itself wrong: I’m confused now. take away my life from me, your hope of me from you? Why doest thou wander over the long seas? Are they wise, or is Paris the only one with eyes? So why have you, who so often felt the power of love. and is my desire now visible, perhaps more than I wish? You who so enter, are you friend or enemy? The prophetess was right: I found the fires she spoke of. [89] Words like these – and how slight a part of them is here! when the hope I have of my lady is also far away. joined you to me, binding you with my words. The rest night knows, and we, and the tower that sees. What has a girl to do with the weapons of war? Which to follow’s in doubt: one is proper: the other gives joy. Let it be so: I hope Venus, Love’s mother, hasn’t promised you. and that time too is full of things that wound me. now also repeat what was once written to you. I felt the whole of both cheeks had reddened. and seeking moisture in the midst of the stream. Ovid's Heroides: A New Translation and Critical Essays: Murgatroyd, Professor of Classics Paul, Reeves, Bridget, Parker, Sarah: Amazon.nl Selecteer uw cookievoorkeuren We gebruiken cookies en vergelijkbare tools om uw winkelervaring te verbeteren, onze services aan te bieden, te begrijpen hoe klanten onze services gebruiken zodat we verbeteringen kunnen aanbrengen, en om … [185] Yet why do you send me to the shores of Actium, unhappy that I am, when you yourself could turn back your wandering steps? Books I to VII. Diana the huntress, in dream, ordered me to write these words: Love, awake, ordered me to write them to you: I’m already wounded, by the second one’s arrows. In this letter Ovid draws from Euripides and Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica III and IV. And now I sail, by her divine command – you shouldn’t sin. But I’ll enjoy Troy’s wealth and rich culture. the slackened thread fell from my hands in sleep. Soon, when sleep, the best reason for extended privacy. You don’t have to believe me: have the terms of our contract read: let her read them, lest you should say they’re false. But don’t restrain me with fetters and chains: When you’ve satisfied your anger as much as you wish, you’ll say to yourself: ‘How patiently he loves!’. gave me hope that, by that token, you might also accept me. and was a lawyer, advised by devious Love.

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