Prayers of Ovid: Heroides, Amores, The Art of Love, Remedies for Love, and Walnut Tree. 

 

Translations by Moravius Piscinus

 

 

Ars Amore

 

I 30 Attend with favor, Mother of Love, the start of my enterprise.

 

Coeptis, mater Amoris, ades!

 

II 14-5 This will be a work of art. Now, if ever before, I required Your favor, Venus Cytherrea, and that of Your son, and now, too, Erato, whose erotic name exudes Love.

 

Hoc erit artis opus. / Nunc mihi, siquando, puer et Cytherea, favete, / nunc Erato, nam tu

 

 

Amores

 

I 3.1-6 My prayer is just.  May Venus hear all our many prayers.  Take one who would serve You through long years, accept one who knows how to love with a pure heart.

 

Justa precor… audierit nostras tot Cytherea preces / Accipe, per longos tibi qui deserviat annos; / accipe, qui pura norit amare fide

 

II 13.7-18 O Isis, who dwells in Paraetonium and the genial fields of Canopus, in Memphis and palm-rich Pharos, and where the broad Nile swiftly disgorges into the salty sea through seven mouths, may Osiris always love your pious rites, may the serpent ever glide slowly nearby to bless Your altar gifts, and the horned Apis ever walk beside You in procession.  Come hither, by a mere expression of Your eyes summon, and in one motion save us both, for You will grant life to my lady, and she to me.  Often has she seated herself to worship You on the appointed days and had the eunuch priests purify her Nile waters dripping from boughs of laurel.

 

Isi, Paraetonium genialiaque arva Canopi quae colis et Memphiim palmiferamque Pharon quaeque celer Nilus lato delapsus in alveo per septem portus in maris exit aquas, per tua sacra pius semper Osiris amet / pigraque labatur circa donaria serpens / et comes in pompa corniger Apis eat! / Huc adhibe vultus, et in una parce duobus! / nam vitam dominae tu dabis, illa mihi / saepe tibi sedit certis operata diebus, / qua tangit laurus Gallica turma tuas.

 

  II 14.19-24 Ilithyia, You who are compassionate towards women in labor, who suffer with great pains in their womb, their bodies strained in slow birth of the hidden child, gently attend to her, Ilithyia, and favor my prayers.  She is worthy of your aid, reward her with life, I will myself, dressed in pure white robes offer frankincense upon Your altar, I will myself carry votive gifts to lay at Your feet.  And to Your altar’s inscription I shall add,  “By Naso, for Corinna saved.”  Act in this manner, and receive the legend inscribed and the gifts in Your sanctuary. 

 

Tuque laborantes utero miserata puellas / quarum tarda latens corpora tendit onus / lenis ades precibusque meis fave, Ilithyia. / Digna est, quam iubeas muneris esse tui. / Ipse ego tura dabo fumosis candidus aris, ipse feram ante tuos munera vota pedes. / Adiciam titulum, “Servata Naso Corinna.” Tu modo fac titulo muneribusque locam.

 

II 14.43-4 Merciful Gods, pardon this one time mistake among all she may have made, that is all I ask, and punish her only if next time she is to blame.

 

Di faciles, peccasse semel concedite tuto / et satis est; poenam culpa secunda ferat

 

III 2. 43 Keep silence and attend.

 

Linguis animisque favete!

 

III 2.55-7 Winsome Venus, to You we pray, and to Your children with the mighty bow Assent to my undertaking, and may You change my lady’s mind, make her open to love.

 

Nos tibi, blanda Venus, puerisque potentibus arcu / plaudimus; inceptis adnue, diva, meis / daque novae mentem dominae! Patiatur amari.

 

III 10 3-14; 43-8 Flaxen haired Ceres, Your fine tresses wreathed with ears of wheat, why must your sacred rites inhibit our pleasures? Goddess, people everywhere praise for your munificence. No other goddess so lavishes men and women with everything good.  In earlier times the uncouth peasant never roasted grains of wheat, never knew a threshing floor, but oak trees, those first oracles, provided them with gruel.  Acorns, tender roots and herbs made their meal then.  Ceres first taught seeds to ripen in the fields, taught how to follow Her with scythe against their golden hair, first broke the oxen to yoke and reveal the fertile earth beneath its curved blade.

 

*  *  *  *

 

            O golden haired Ceres, just because lying apart was so sad for You., must I now, too, suffer so on Your holy day?  Why must I be sad when You rejoice at the return of Your daughter whose realm is the lesser only to Juno’s?  A festival calls for singing and drinking and love-making.  These are fit gifts to carry to the temples and please the gods.

 

Flava Ceres, tenues spicis redimita capillos / cur inhibes sacris commoda nostra tuis? / Te, dea, munificam gentes ubiquaque loquuntur, / nec minus humanis invidet ulla bonis. / ante nec hirsuti torrebant farra coloni, / nec notum terris area nomen erat, / sed glandem quercus, oracula prima, ferebant; / haec erat et teneri caespitis herbae cibus. / Prima Ceres docuit turgescere semen in agris / falce coloratas subsecuitque comas; / prima iugis tauros supponere colla coegit, / et veterem curvo dente revellit human.

* * *

Quod tibi secubitis tristes, dea flava, fuissent / hoc cogor sacris nunc ego ferre tuis?  Cur ego simtristis, cum sit tibi nata reperta / regnaque quam Juno sorte minore regat? / Festa dies Veneremque vocat cantusque merumque; / haec decet ad dominos munera ferre deos.

 

 

Heroides

 

XIII 49-50 O Gods, I pray, spare us from sinister omens, and grant that my good husband shall return home from the wars to hang his arms before Jupiter Redux

 

Di, precor, a nobis omen removete sinistrum / et sua det Reduci vir meus arma Jovi

 

XV 57-8 I am Yours, Venus Ericina, who frequents the Sicanian Mountains, O Goddess look after your prophetic poet.

 

Tu quoque, quae montes celebras, Erycina, Sicanos, / nam tuasum, vati consule, diva, tuae nomen amoris habes

 

Remedia Amoris

 

75-6: From the very outset I pray to You, Apollo, inventor of music and of all the healing arts, come to my aid and this undertaking; bless it with Your laurel.

 

Te precor incipiens, adsit tua laurea nobis, / carminas et medicae, Phoebe, repertor opis. 

 

704: Come, health-bearing Apollo, come favoring my undertaking.

 

Tuque, favens coeptis, Phoebe saluber, ades.

 

 

Nux

 

11-2: Did You, Liber, therefore often marvel at Your grapes; did Minerva Her olives?

 

Saepe tuas igiter, Liber, miratus es uvas, mirata est oleas saepe Minerva  suas.

 

 151-2: If there is no cause to burn me, no reason to cut me down, spare me; thus may you finish the journey you have begun.

 

Sic nec cur urar nec cur excidar habetis, / parcite: sic coeptum perficiatis iter.