"The
Art of Loving" (excerpt) by Publius Ovidius Nasoh
Vivek Bhatia (CAS '07) is majoring in
Biochemistry and Classical Civilization.
He who so often thoroughly terrified his allies and enemies
alike
Is believed to have become very scared of old Chiron, teacher
of the lyre;
At this master’s command, being ordered by a whipping,
That famous hero presented his hands - those which Hector would
experience.
As Chiron was to Achilles, I am the teacher of Love;
Each a fierce boy, each having been born of a goddess.
But still, even the neck of a violent bull is oppressed by the
plow,
And the bits are being worn away by the tooth of a brave but
obedient horse.
Love will likewise yield to me, although it may wound my heart
With its bow and send forth fiery flames of passion.
However much Love violently pierced through me, however it violently
burned me,
By that much I will be a better avenger of a wound having been
made by it.
Neither will I pretend, Apollo, that the arts had been given
from you to me,
Nor are we advised by the voice of airborne birds;
Nor did Clio and Clio’s sisters appear to me,
As they are busy watching over the sheep from your valleys of
Ascra.
Experience is moving this work: pay attention to the experienced
poet;
I’ll sing true things: Venus, mother of Love, come near for
this undertaking!
Be far off, delicate headbands - signs of chastity -
You who hide your ankles with a tall skirt:
We, risk-free, will sing about safe Love and previously agreed
upon secret affairs,
And in my poem, there will be no crime.
First, take pains to find whom you may wish to love,
You, new soldier in arms who now come for the first time seeking
love;
The next task is to persuade that girl to find satisfaction
in you:
The third, to strive so that love may last for a long time.
My method is such - the playground will be designated by our
chariot:
This will be the end goal, pursued at a speed that will wear
out our wheels.
