Calpurnius Siculus, Bucolics

LCL 284: 218-219

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Minor Latin Poets

Calpurnius Siculus

I

Corydon: Ornytus

C. Nondum solis equos declinis mitigat aestas, quamvis et madidis incumbant prela racemis et spument rauco ferventia musta susurro. cernis ut ecce pater quas tradidit, Ornyte, vaccae 5molle sub hirsuta latus explicuere genista? nos quoque vicinis cur non succedimus umbris? torrida cur solo defendimus ora galero?

O. hoc potius, frater Corydon, nemus, antra petamus ista patris Fauni, graciles ubi pinea denset 10silva comas rapidoque caput levat obvia soli, bullantes ubi fagus aquas radice sub ipsa protegit et ramis errantibus implicat umbras.

C. quo me cumque vocas, sequor, Ornyte; nam mea Leuce, dum negat amplexus nocturnaque gaudia nobis, 15pervia cornigeri fecit sacraria Fauni. prome igitur calamos et si qua recondita servas. nec tibi defuerit mea fistula, quam mihi nuper matura docilis compegit harundine Ladon.

  • 1declinis NA: declivis GV: declivus P.
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Calpurnius Siculus

Calpurnius Siculus

Eclogue I

Corydon: Ornytus

C. Not yet doth the waning summer tame the sun’s horses, although the wine-presses are squeezing the juicy clusters and a hoarse whisper comes from the foaming must as it ferments. Look, Ornytus, do you see how comfortably the cattle our father trusted us to watch have lain down to rest in the shaggy broom? Why do not we also make for the neighbouring shade? Why only a cap to protect our sunburnt faces?

O. Rather let us seek this grove, brother Corydon,—the grottoes over there, the haunt of Father Faunus, where the pine forest thickly spreads its delicate foliage and rears its head to meet the sun’s fierce rays, where the beech shields the waters that bubble ’neath its very roots, and with its straying boughs casts a tangled shade.

C. Whithersoever you call me, Ornytus, I follow. For by refusing my embraces and denying me nightly pleasures, my Leuce has left it lawful for me to enter the shrine of horned Faunus. Produce your reed-pipes then and any song you keep stored for use. My pipe, you will find, will not fail you—the pipe that Ladon’s skill fashioned for me lately out of a ripely seasoned reed.

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DOI: 10.4159/DLCL.calpurnius_siculus-bucolica.1934