Nemesianus, Bucolica

LCL 434: 482-483

Tools

Minor Latin Poets

cantet, amat quod quisque: levant et carmina curas.

L. tu quoque, saeve puer, niveum ne perde colorem 45sole sub hoc: solet hic lucentes urere malas. hic age pampinea mecum requiesce sub umbra; hic tibi lene fluens fons murmurat, hic et ab ulmis purpureae fetis dependent vitibus uvae. cantet, amat quod quisque: levant et carmina curas.

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M. qui tulerit Meroes fastidia lenta superbae, Sithonias feret ille nives Libyaeque calorem, Nerinas potabit aquas taxique nocentis non metuet sucos, Sardorum gramina vincet et iuga Marmaricos coget sua ferre leones. cantet, amat quod quisque: levant et carmina 55curas.

L. quisquis amat pueros, ferro praecordia duret, nil properet discatque diu patienter amare prudentesque animos teneris non spernat in annis, perferat et fastus. sic olim gaudia sumet, 60si modo sollicitos aliquis deus audit amantes. cantet, amat quod quisque: levant et carmina curas.

M. quid prodest, quod me pagani mater Amyntae

  • 46hic V plerique, Leo, Giarratano: hac G, Baehrens.
  • 47virens NG, H. Schenkl: fluens V plerique.
482

Nemesianus

Let each sing of what he loves: song too relieves love’s pangs.

L. You too, cruel youth, destroy not your snow-white colour under this sun; it is wont to scorch fair cheeks. Come, rest here with me beneath the shadow of the vine. Here you have the murmur of a gently running spring, here too on the supporting elms hang purple clusters from the fruitful vines.

Let each sing of what he loves: song too relieves love’s pangs.

M. The man who can endure proud Meroe’s unresponsive disdain will endure Sithonian snows and Libyan heat, will drink sea-water, and be unafraid of the hurtful yew-tree’s sap; he will defy Sardinian herbs and will constrain Marmaric lions to bear his yoke. a

Let each sing of what he loves: song too relieves love’s pangs.

L. Whoe’er loves boys, let him harden his heart with steel. Let him be in no haste, but learn for long to love with patience. Let him not scorn prudence in tender years. Let him even endure disdain. So one day he will find joy, if so be that some god hearkens to troubled lovers.

Let each sing of what he loves: song too relieves love’s pangs.

M. What boots it b that the mother of Amyntas

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DOI: 10.4159/DLCL.nemesianus-bucolica.1934