Letter 7008: When July, bearer of heat, burns the fiery sands

VIII To the same man [Lupus] When heat-bearing July scorches the fiery sands, and the dry earth thirsts along its dusty edge; when the vine-shoot, grown faint, scarcely spreads its peaceful shade, and the softer grass draws in its gray-green tresses; when, with the heat of Phoebus reigning and its leaves drooping, the grove can scarcely defend its own cool shelters; when the heifer, loathing her fodder, flees the woodland glades in the heat, and the vetch itself is not grazed by the afflicted horses; when the dog whips out its tongue far from its mouth, and the sad sheep, dragging its weary flanks, pants: it may happen that a traveler, making his way along the road in the burning hours, is scorched, his hair kindled by the pressing sun. As the soil dries up, that he may be revived by a modest draught, again and again, anxious, he longs for streaming waters; or, where the leafy crown of a trembling tree is spread out, with its boughs set against the sun, the shade might temper his thirst. If now, by some new good fortune, a grove nearby casts its shade and the fresh wave of a glassy spring murmurs, the man, glad, hurrying here, stretches himself out upon the peaceful fields, and rolls his limbs too upon the grassy couches. Holding the fulfillment that has followed his prayers, he is refreshed by a twofold delight: on this side the shade lightens the day, on that the water drives away his thirst. If he holds any songs in memory, he runs them through with melodious singing, and the gentler breeze invites peaceful sounds; if perchance Homer was well known to him at Athens, or Maro [Virgil] was read by him in Trajan's forum in the city; or if he learned the sacred teachings by the Davidic plectrum, he sings a song of honor with rolling throat. The lyre is touched, or with a finger the pipe, the flute, the reed: each man, with his own Muses, soothes the birds with song. So I too, wearied by the mighty heat of cares, learning that you are well, am driven on, refreshed as if by a spring. O name of Lupus, sweet to me, ever to be repeated, and which the page of my heart holds written; the man whom, once enclosed within the tablets of sweetness, the never-to-be-erased coffer of my breast holds within: you who possess the treasures of piety, a precious will, bringing forth pure talents from your own soul! The golden mind surpasses the riches that the world holds, and brings back the glory of gems with its glittering heart. The aromatic sense pours forth sweet odors, bestowing upon the soul that which incense rightly is wont to do. Flowing back from your breast, you give a word honeyed with sweetness, and from your mouth wisdom seasoned with salt. After the darkness of night, setting beneath itself the lights of the stars, as the Morning Star shines with its rays, so you shine for me in my mind. As the light of the sun, coming from the east, revives the world, so your words illumine my soul. When foreign Germania held my gaze, you were a father, one ready to take counsel for the fatherland too. When, rejoicing, I deserved to gaze upon your peaceful countenance, soon a doubled day shone for me in the world; as often as I wove together speech with your conversation, I believed I was reclining among ambrosial roses. You remain one to all, but your favor is more to us; it bound me to you in affection as I hastened toward it. Now too, who could repay worthy returns for great honors? I am overcome by the subject matter, and because my tongue is too small. So along the ascent the high summit towers above: on this side my love urges me on, on that your honor stands in the way. But let the rest strive to render praises to you in my stead, and let each, however he is able, sound you forth with prayer and voice: let the Roman with the lyre, the barbarian applaud you with the harp, the Greek with the Achillean [lyre], the British crwth sing of you. Let those proclaim you brave, these rightfully mighty; let one declare you nimble in arms, the other in books. And because you rightly govern what peace and war require, let one sing in harmony the glory of the judge, the other of the leader. We give you our little verses, let the barbarian songs give their lays: so, with varying strain, let one praise sound for the man. Let these recount you as renowned, those proclaim you keen in the law: but I shall always hold you sweet, Lupus.

VIII Ad eundem Aestifer ignitas cum Iulius urit harenas siccaque pulvereo margine terra sitit, languidior placidas vix pampinus explicat umbras, mollior et glaucas contrahit herba comas, summissis foliis Phoebi regnante vapore vix sua defendit frigida tecta nemus, pabula fastidens fugit aestu bucula saltus, ipse nec adflictis pascitur ervus equis, longius expositam linguam canis ore flagellat, ilia lassa trahens tristis anhelat ovis: forte viator iter gradiens ferventibus horis uritur accensis sole premente comis. qui arescente solo, modico recreetur ut haustu, saepius inriguas anxius optat aquas, arboris aut tremulae viridante cacumine fuso frondibus oppositis temperet umbra sitim. prosperitate nova si iam prope lucus opacet et vitrei fontis sibilet unda recens, huc properans placidis homo laetus sternitur arvis, volvit in herbosos et sua membra toros. vota secuta tenens gemino refovetur amoeno: hine levat umbra diem, hinc fugat unda sitim. carmina siqua tenet, cantu modulante recurrit, provocat et placidos blandior aura sonos, si sibi forte fuit bene notus Homerus Athenis aut Maro Traiano lectus in urbe foro; vel si Davitico didicit sacra dogmata plectro, psallit honorificum fauce rotante melum. tangitur aut digito lyra tibia fistula canna: quisque suis Musis carmine mulcet aves. sic ego, curarum valido defessus ab aestu, noscens te salvum fonte refectus agor. o nomen mihi dulce Lupi, replicabile semper quodque mei scriptum pagina cordis habet, quem semel inclusum tabulis dulcedinis intus non abolenda virum pectoris arca tenet; thesauros pietatis habens, pretiosa voluntas producens animo pura talenta suo! divitias quas mundus habet mens aurea vincit gemmarumque decus corde micante refert. sensus aromaticus suaves diffundit odores. hoc tribuens animae quod bene tura solent. melle saporatum refluens a pectore verbum et sale conditum reddis ab ore sophum. post tenebras noctis stellarum lumina subdens Lucifer ut radiis sic mihi mente nites. ut recreat mundum veniens lux solis ab ortu, inlustrant animum sic tua verba meum. cum peregrina meos tenuit Germania visus, tu pater et patriae consuliturus eras. quando merebar ovans placidos intendere vultus, mox geminata mihi fulsit in orbe dies, conserui quotiens vestro sermone loquellas credidi in ambrosiis me recubare rosis. omnibus una manens, sed plus tua gratia nobis, vinxit in affectu me properante suo. nunc quoque pro magnis quis digna rependat honoris? materia vincor et quia lingua minor. sic per ascensum culmen supereminet altum: hinc meus urguet amor, hinc tuus obstat honor. sed pro me reliqui laudes tibi reddere certent, et qua quisque valet te prece voce sonet, Romanusque lyra, plaudat tibi barbarus harpa, Graecus Achilliaca, crotta Britanna canat. illi te fortem referant, hi iure potentem, ille armis agilem praedicet, iste libris. et quia rite regis quod pax et bella requirunt, iudicis ille decus concinat, iste ducis. nos tibi versiculos, dent barbara carmina leudos: sic Variante tropo laus sonet una viro. hi celebrem memorent, illi te lege sagacem: ast ego te dulcem semper habebo, Lupe.