Horace Odes 1.11
Mischa Hooker /
- Created on 2023-10-26 21:39:20
- Translated by LIT / Raffel
- Aligned by Mischa Hooker
Latin
English
English
Tu ne quaesieris ( scire nefas ) quem mihi , quem tibi
finem di dederint , Leuconoe , nec Babylonios
temptaris numeros . Ut melius quicquid erit pati !
Seu pluris hiemes seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam ,
quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare
Tyrrhenum , sapias , vina liques et spatio brevi
spem longam reseces . Dum loquimur , fugerit invida
aetas : carpe diem , quam minimum credula postero .
finem di dederint , Leuconoe , nec Babylonios
temptaris numeros . Ut melius quicquid erit pati !
Seu pluris hiemes seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam ,
quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare
Tyrrhenum , sapias , vina liques et spatio brevi
spem longam reseces . Dum loquimur , fugerit invida
aetas : carpe diem , quam minimum credula postero .
Let you not have asked – it is bad to know ! – what end to me , what to you ,
The gods have given , Leucippe , lest you may have tried the Babylonian
Calculations . How much better whatever will be is to be endured ,
Whether Jove has assigned many winters or one final ,
Which now softens the Tyrrhenian sea upon rocky shores :
Be wise , strain wines , and cut short far-reaching hopes , for the
Short space of life . As long as we speak , a grudging lifetime will
Be gone : enjoy today , with tomorrow trusted as little as possible .
The gods have given , Leucippe , lest you may have tried the Babylonian
Calculations . How much better whatever will be is to be endured ,
Whether Jove has assigned many winters or one final ,
Which now softens the Tyrrhenian sea upon rocky shores :
Be wise , strain wines , and cut short far-reaching hopes , for the
Short space of life . As long as we speak , a grudging lifetime will
Be gone : enjoy today , with tomorrow trusted as little as possible .
Leucon , no one’s allowed to know his fate ,
Not you , not me : don’t ask , don’t hunt for answers
In tea leaves or palms . Be patient with whatever comes .
This could be our last winter , it could be many
More , pounding the Tuscan Sea on these rocks :
Do what you must , be wise , cut your vines
And forget about hope . Time goes running , even
As we talk . Take the present , the future’s no one’s affair .
Not you , not me : don’t ask , don’t hunt for answers
In tea leaves or palms . Be patient with whatever comes .
This could be our last winter , it could be many
More , pounding the Tuscan Sea on these rocks :
Do what you must , be wise , cut your vines
And forget about hope . Time goes running , even
As we talk . Take the present , the future’s no one’s affair .