To the same man. (359/60)
I am persuaded that your affairs are not many, for otherwise you would not be enjoying such great leisure for writing letters; since the beauty of your letter is not that of a governor visiting cities, but of a man who labors at words.
But if that is false and your affairs are indeed many, you are nonetheless equal to both. One of the Muses seems to dwell with you together with Justice, helping you now toward the one task, now toward the other.
And as for your seeking either the arrow of Abaris [the Hyperborean sage said to ride a magic arrow] or the lyre of Orpheus: do not seek the lyre, for with your tongue you wield the powers of that lyre, nor the arrow, since you already possess the lyre.
Poverty is now common to all men, so that you are not writing to the wealthy on behalf of the destitute; but even if you were our ruler, you would be lamenting these same things. Perish then, O War, for the sake of many things, you who swiftly make the Calliases [the proverbially rich man] into Iruses [the proverbial beggar of the Odyssey].
**To the same correspondent.** (359/60)
I am persuaded that your affairs are not many, for otherwise you would not have enjoyed such ample leisure for letter-writing — since the beauty of your letter is that not of a governor making his rounds of the cities, but of a man devoted to the craft of eloquence.
But if that presumption is false and your affairs are indeed many, then you are equal to both. One of the Muses, it seems, dwells with you alongside Justice, and lends her aid now to the one, now to the other.
And though you seek either the arrow of Abaris or the lyre of Orpheus — do not seek the lyre, for with your tongue you wield all its power; nor the arrow, since you already possess the lyre.
Poverty is now the common lot of mankind, so that you are not writing on behalf of the destitute to men of wealth. Even if you governed us, you would lament the same things:
*"A curse on you, O War, for many reasons — you who so swiftly turn our Calliases into Iruses."*
I am persuaded that your affairs are not many, for otherwise you would not be enjoying such great leisure for writing letters; since the beauty of your letter is not that of a governor visiting cities, but of a man who labors at words.
But if that is false and your affairs are indeed many, you are nonetheless equal to both. One of the Muses seems to dwell with you together with Justice, helping you now toward the one task, now toward the other.
And as for your seeking either the arrow of Abaris [the Hyperborean sage said to ride a magic arrow] or the lyre of Orpheus: do not seek the lyre, for with your tongue you wield the powers of that lyre, nor the arrow, since you already possess the lyre.
Poverty is now common to all men, so that you are not writing to the wealthy on behalf of the destitute; but even if you were our ruler, you would be lamenting these same things. Perish then, O War, for the sake of many things, you who swiftly make the Calliases [the proverbially rich man] into Iruses [the proverbial beggar of the Odyssey].
AI-assisted translation - This translation was produced with AI assistance and has not been peer-reviewed. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek below for scholarly use.