But when the years have brought your strength to manhood,
No longer then will merchant ships set forth
Laden with things to trade in foreign places;
Each land will bear of itself what it needs for itself;
The earth will suffer the harrow's tooth no longer
Nor vines suffer the claw of the pruning-hook;
No longer need cloth learn to imi tate colors;
Out in the meadow the fleece of the ram will change
Of its own accord from purple to saffron yellow;
In
the meadow the lambs will graze in bright red coats.
"So let all ages be like this," the Parcae,
Voicing the gods' unchangeable decree,
Cry out in unison to their whirling spindles.
o
you dear child of the gods, increase of Jove,
The time has come about at last for you
To take upon you those great honors foretold;
Behold how the vaulted universe trembles in awe–
Earth and the range of sea and the depth of sky–
Glorying in the new age coming in.
Oh, if I have long life and at the end
Have breath enough and spirit enough to be
The teller of the story of your deeds ,
Then neither Linus nor Thracian Orpheus could
Defeat me in the singing-contest, though
Orpheus' mother, Calliope, were there,
And Linus' father, Apollo the beautiful;
And Pan himself, Arcadia the judge,
Judged by Arcadia, would admit defeat.
So, little baby, may your first smile be
When you first recognize your mother, whose
Long nine-months travail brought you into the world.
That child who has not smiled thus for his parents
No gods will welcome at their festive table
Nor any goddess to her amorous bower.
Translated from the Latin
by
David Ferry
