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Domitian und Earinos #4
(426 Aufrufe)
Γραικύλος schrieb am 05.04.2022 um 00:10 Uhr (
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3. P. Papinius Statius: Silvae
CAPILLI FLAVI EARINI
(The Hair of Flavius Earinus)
Go, locks of hair, go swiftly over favourable seas
[Ite, comae, facilemque, precor, transcurrite pontum],
Go now, I pray, softly couched in encircling gold;
Kind Venus, granting you safe voyage, will calm
The southerlies, bear you perhaps from the perilous
Vessel, and lead you in her shell through the waves.
Aesculapius, Apollo’s son, take the renowned tresses,
Caesar’s lad offers you, accept them, and show them
Gladly to your unshorn father. Let him consider them
Closely and conclude they are from his brother Lyaeus.
Perhaps then he will trim the glory of his own immortal
Locks, and set their trimmings in gold for you as well.
Pergamus, be happier by far than pine-clad Mount Ida,
Though Ida prides itself on sacred rape among the clouds,
(since it gave Ganymede to the gods, the sight of whom
Troubles Juno, who recoils at his touch, refusing nectar
[nempe dedit superis illum quem turbida semper
Iuon videt refugitque manum nectarque recusat]),
For you are favoured by heaven, distinguished by your
Handsome ward, the servant whom you sent to Latium,
Whom the Ausonian Jupiter, Domitian, and his Roman
Juno, both view with friendly gaze; not without the will
Of the gods could the lord of the earth be so well pleased.
They say that golden Venus, once, carried by her downy
Swans, on her way from Eryx’ heights to Idalian groves,
Reached the temple in Pergamus where the gentle god
There to help the ill, their greatest recourse, holds back
The imminent Fates, broods by his health-giving snake.
She saw a lad, himself a bright star of unmatched beauty,
Playing before the altar of the god himself, and deceived
At first by this unexpected apparition, for a while thought
He must be one of her many sons, though he had no bow,
Nor shadowy wings springing from radiant shoulders.
She admired his boyish grace, gazed at his face and hair,
Saying: “Must you go then to walled Rome, neglected
By Venus? Must you endure a humble roof, and bear
The common yoke of servitude? Not so! I shall grant
Your beauty the master it merits. Come with me, lad,
Come. I shall carry you to the Leader, a gift of gifts,
In my winged chariot, no plebeian fate awaits you;
You are destined to serve the honour of the Palatine.
I confess I’ve neither seen in all the world, nor given
Birth to, anyone as sweet. Endymion and Attis shall
Freely yield to you, and Narcissus consumed in vain
By his image in the pool, a barren love. The nymphs
Preferring you to Hylas, would have seized your urn.
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