Prayers in Ovid’s Fasti

Translated by Moravius Piscinus

I 65-70

Biformed Janus, source of years gliding by in silence, who alone among the immortal celestials sees his own back, come, attend our nobles as Your guests, those whose labors secure delightful pastimes for the earth, and peace on earth, peace on the seas. Attend and bless Your Senators and those of the people of Rome, the Quirites, and with a nod open Your gleaming gates onto peaceful precincts.

Iane biceps, anni tacite labentis origo, / solus de superis qui tua terga vides, / dexter ades ducibus, quorum secura labore / otia terra ferax, otia pontus habet: / dexter ades patribusque tuis populoque Quirini, / et resera nutu candida templa tuo.

I 509-14

Hail Gods who have answered our prayers and brought us to our journey’s end in this place. Hail to you land, destined to raise new gods up to the heavens. Hail rivers and springs of this hospitable land. Hail Naiad chorus of these forests and groves. May there be good auspices for me and my son; lucky is the foot that steps upon this riverbank.

Di' que 'petitorum' dixit 'salvete locorum, / tuque, novos caelo terra datura deos, / fluminaque et fontes, quibus utitur hospita tellus, / et nemorum silvae Naiadumque chori, / este bonis avibus visi natoque mihique, / ripaque felici tacta sit ista pede.

I 671-96

O Mothers of Fruitfulness, Earth and Ceres, please,

With salted spelt cakes offered for Your mother's woe,

In kind service have Earth and Ceres nurtured wheat,

She who gave grain life, She who gave us room to grow.

Pray then before the sheep are shorn their winter's fleece.

Consorts in labour who antiquity reformed,

Oaken acorn have You replaced by useful meal,

With boundless crops satisfy those who fields farmed,

O that they may by their tillage their reward seal.

May You grant tender seed abundant increase.

Let not icy cold enwrap our new shoots with snow,

While we sow let cloudless skies and fair winds blow.

When the seed lies sprouting, sprinkle with gentle rains,

May You ward off the feasting by birds from our grains.

You also, little ants, spare the grain we have sown,

More abundant will be your harvest when 'tis grown.

Meanwhile may our grain not blight by rough mildew,

Nor foul weather our seed blanch to a sickly hue.

Never may our grain be shriveled nor may it swell,

Without eye-stinging cockle, not by wild oats held.

Crops of wheat, of barley, of spelt grow on the farm,

Look now, Good Mothers, guard well the field,

The seasons change, the earth by Your breath grows warm,

With Your gentle touch may You increase our yield.

By Peace Ceres nursed, Her foster-child live in peace.

Placentur frugum matres, Tellusque Ceresque, / farre suo gravidae visceribusque suis: / officium commune Ceres et Terra tuentur; / haec praebet causam frugibus, illa locum / consortes operis, per quas correcta vetustas / quernaque glans victa est utiliore cibo, / frugibus immensis avidos satiate colonos, / ut capiant cultus praemia digna sui. / vos date perpetuos teneris sementibus auctus, / nec nova per gelidas herba sit usta nives / cum serimus, caelum ventis aperite serenis; / cum latet, aetheria spargite semen aqua. / neve graves cultis Cerialia rura cavete / agmine laesuro depopulentur aves. / vos quoque, formicae, subiectis parcite granis: / post messem praedae copia maior erit. / interea crescat scabrae robiginis expers / nec vitio caeli palleat ulla seges, / et neque deficiat macie nec pinguior aequo / divitiis pereat luxuriosa suis; / et careant loliis oculos vitiantibus agri, / nec sterilis culto surgat avena solo; / triticeos fetus passuraque farra bis ignem / hordeaque ingenti fenore reddat ager. /haec ego pro vobis, haec vos optate coloni, / efficiatque ratas utraque diva preces.

I 711-6

Garland Your elegant coiffure with Actium’s laurel, Pax; be present and soften the whole world with Your gentleness. Let there be no enemies, no cause for triumphs. You will hand greater glory to our leaders than war can bring. Let the soldiers carry their arms only to check and repress arms. Let the trumpets sound only to announce the pomp that attends a celebration.

frondibus Actiacis comptos redimita capillos, Pax, ades et toto mitis in orbe mane. / dum desint hostes, desit quoque causa triumphi: / tu ducibus bello gloria maior eris. / sola gerat miles, quibus arma coerceat, arma, / canteturque fera nil nisi pompa tuba.

II 449-52

Thanks be to You, Lucina, who are named for this sacred grove, or else because it is You, Goddess, who brings life into the light of day. Kind Lucina, I pray that You spare pregnant girls from labor’s hardship, and gently birth ripened infants from their wombs.

gratia Lucinae: dedit haec tibi nomina lucus, / aut quia principium tu, dea, lucis habes./ parce, precor, gravidis, facilis Lucina, puellis, / maturumque utero molliter aufer onus.

II658-62

Holy Terminus, You define people and cities and nations within their boundaries. All land would be in dispute if without You. You seek no offices or anyone’s favour; no amount of gold can corrupt Your judgement. In good faith You preserve the legitimate claims to rural lands.

Termine sancte, / 'tu populos urbesque et regna ingentia finis: / omnis erit sine te litigiosus ager. / nulla tibi ambitio est, nullo corrumperis auro, / legitima servas credita rura fide.

II 673-8

Terminus, You have lost Your freedom to move about, remain on guard, positioned where You were stationed, never to concede whatever claims a neighbor may make, lest You would appear to give an upper hand to men over vows witnessed by Jupiter, and whether ploughshares or mattocks give You a beating, proclaim, “Yours is this land, that is his.”

Termine, post illud levitas tibi libera non est: / qua positus fueris in statione, mane; / nec tu vicino quicquam concede roganti, / ne videare hominem praeposuisse Iovi: / et seu vomeribus seu tu pulsabere rastris, / clamato "tuus est hic ager, ille tuus".'

III 1-2

Bellicose Mars, lay aside for awhile Your round bronze shield and spear. Mars, be present and let loose from its helmet Your sleek, shining hair.

Bellice, depositis clipeo paulisper et hasta, / Mars, ades et nitidas casside solve comas.

III 73-6

Arbiter of arms, from whose blood I am believed to have been born, and many the proofs I will give that are accepted, after You we will begin the Roman year, from Your name, Father, we will name the first month of the year.

'arbiter armorum, de cuius sanguine natus / credor et, ut credar, pignora multa dabo, / a te principium Romano dicimus anno: / primus de patrio nomine mensis erit.'

III 255-6

“You have given us light, Lucina,” shout one and all, “attend our birthing prayers.”

'tu nobis lucem, Lucina, dedisti' / dicite 'tu voto parturientis ades.'

III 365-6

Jupiter, the time has come to make good Your promises, keep in good faith the vows You have spoken.

'tempus adest promissi muneris' inquit; / 'pollicitam dictis, Iuppiter, adde fidem.'

III 423-8

Gods of ancient Troy, the highest honour belongs to he who bore You; Aeneas carried his burden away from all foes, and now a priest descended from Aeneas touches the divine kindred powers. Vesta, watch over him whose hand tends the Holy Fire. Live well, fires. O live, I pray, undying flames.

di veteris Troiae, dignissima praeda ferenti, / qua gravis Aeneas tutus ab hoste fuit, / ortus ab Aenea tangit cognata sacerdos / numina: cognatum, Vesta, tuere caput / quos sancta fovet ille manu, bene vivitis, ignes:/ vivite inexstincti, flammaque duxque, precor.

III 714

Bacchus, favor the poet who sings at Your feast.

Bacche, fave vati, dum tua festa cano.

III 789-90

Turn Your head with complacent horns to me, Father Baccus, and give my genius a fair wind to follow

mite caput, pater, huc placataque cornua vertas, / et des ingenio vela secunda meo.

IV 1

Nuturing Venus, Mother of the twin Loves, favour me.

'Alma, fave', dixi 'geminorum mater Amorum';

IV 191

Grant, goddess, someone to consult.

'da, dea, quam sciter.'

IV 319-24

Nurturing Mother, fecund womb that bore the Gods, accept the prayers of this supplicant under one condition. I am said to be unchaste. If You condemn me, my confession I’ll make and accept death as penalty for the verdict of a goddess. But if the crime is absent, pledge Your security for my life, grant this one thing in Your action, and follow chaste goddess my chaste hands.

"supplicis, alma, tuae, genetrix fecunda deorum, / accipe sub certa condicione preces / casta negor: si tu damnas, meruisse fatebor; / morte luam poenas iudice victa dea; / sed si crimen abest, tu nostrae pignora vitae / re dabis, et castas casta sequere manus."

IV 747-77

Pray to Pales with warm milk, say: Be equally mindful of sheep and their masters. May my stables escape from harm. If I have grazed my flock in sacred pastures, or sat beneath a sacred tree, if unknowingly my sheep plunked their fodder from gravesites, if I have entered a sacred grove forbidden to men, and the nymphs and the half goat gods fled in fear at the sight of me, if my knife has pruned a shady bough to give a basket of leaves to an ailing sheep, grant indulgence of my offenses. Do not fault me for sheltering my herd in your sacred shrines when it was hailing heavily. Do not harm me for disturbing your pools; O Nymphs, pardon me for stirring up the river beds, the hooves of my flock turning your clear waters muddy. Goddess, may you placate for us the spirits of springs and fountains, and placate the freckles gods of every grove. Keep us from seeing the Dryads and Diana at Her bath, and the Fauns lying out in pastures at midday. Repel illness far away from us. Grant health to herds and men, and to the vigilant pack of guard dogs. May I never herd home less than were counted in the morning. May I never bewail the torn fleece of my sheep carried off by a wolf. May unjust famine remain away; may leaves of plant, herbs and grasses be in abundance. May there be plenty of water in which to bathe and to drink. May I squeeze richly full teats, may my cheese make me a profit, and the watery whey pass through my wicker sieves. May the ram be lustful, may the ewe conceive his seed, may my stables fill with many lambs. May my wool grow and not be abrasive to girls, but soft and suitable for their delicate hands. May what I pray for come true, and each year let us make grand cakes for Pales, the Lady of the Shepherds.

Palem.: 'consule' dic 'pecori pariter pecorisque magistris: / effugiat stabulis noxa repulsa meis. / sive sacro pavi, sedive sub arbore sacra, / pabulaque e bustis inscia carpsit ovis; / si nemus intravi vetitum, nostrisve fugatae / sunt oculis nymphae semicaperque deus; / si mea falx ramo lucum spoliavit opaco, / unde data est aegrae fiscina frondis ovi, / da veniam culpae: nec, dum degrandinat, obsit / agresti fano subposuisse pecus. / nec noceat turbasse lacus: ignoscite, nymphae, / mota quod obscuras ungula fecit aquas. / tu, dea, pro nobis fontes fontanaque placa / numina, tu sparsos per nemus omne deos. / nec dryadas nec nos videamus labra Dianae / nec Faunum, medio cum premit arva die. / pelle procul morbos; valeant hominesque gregesque, / et valeant vigiles, provida turba, canes. / neve minus multos redigam quam mane fuerunt, / neve gemam referens vellera rapta lupo. / absit iniqua fames: herbae frondesque supersint, / quaeque lavent artus quaeque bibantur aquae. / ubera plena premam, referat mihi caseus aera, / dentque viam liquido vimina rara sero; / sitque salax aries, conceptaque semina coniunx / reddat, et in stabulo multa sit agna meo; / lanaque proveniat nullas laesura puellas, / mollis et ad teneras quamlibet apta manus. / quae precor, eveniant, et nos faciamus ad annum / pastorum dominae grandia liba Pali.'

IV 827-32

Then king Romulus said, “As I found this city, be present, Jupiter, Father Mars, and Mother Vesta, and all gods who it is pious to summon, join together to attend. Grant that my work may rise with Your auspices. Grant that it may for many years hold dominion on earth, and assert its power over the east and west.”

vox fuit haec regis: 'condenti, Iuppiter, urbem, / et genitor Mavors Vestaque mater, ades, / quosque pium est adhibere deos, advertite cuncti: / auspicibus vobis hoc mihi surgat opus. / longa sit huic aetas dominaeque potentia terrae, / sitque sub hac oriens occiduusque dies.'

IV 893

To the Tyrrhenian king is vowed the enemy’s vintage; You, Jupiter, will carry the unwatered wine from the cultivated vines of Latium.

'hostica Tyrrheno vota est vindemia regi: / Iuppiter, e Latio palmite musta feres.'

IV 911-32

Spare Ceres' grain, O scabby Robigo,

Let the tips of sprouting shoots gently quiver above rich soil.

Let the crops grow, nurtured in turn as each star passes through the heavens,

until full and ripe they are readied for the scythe.

Your power is not light. What grain You touch, the farmer notes as lost.

Wind and rain damage Ceres’ grain enough,

And by glistening white snow is burnt.

Worst still if the stalks are damp when the Titan sears them,

Your season of anger, fearful Goddess, when Sirius rises with the sun,

Spare them, I pray. Away with scabrous hands from the harvest

Do not harm the cultivated fields. The power to harm is enough.

May You not grasp the crops, but embrace hard iron.

Destroy first whatever else is able to destroy.

Better to seize the destructive spear and sword,

For they have no use, when the world puts forth quiet peace.

Now may glimmer the light hoes and rough two-pronged hoes

And let the arcing plow shine, polished from rural work.

Corrupt iron weapons instead with Your rust

And may any impulse to draw sword be thwarted

By sheaths rusted from long neglect.

Do not violate Ceres, but allow the farmer time

To fulfill his vows for Your absence.

'aspera Robigo, parcas Cerialibus herbis, / et tremat in summa leve cacumen humo. / tu sata sideribus caeli nutrita secundi / crescere, dum fiant falcibus apta, sinas. / vis tua non levis est: quae tu frumenta notasti, / maestus in amissis illa colonus habet; / nec venti tantum Cereri nocuere nec imbres, / nec sic marmoreo pallet adusta gelu, / quantum si culmos Titan incalfacit udos: / tum locus est irae, diva timenda, tuae / parce, precor, scabrasque manus a messibus aufer, / neve noce cultis; posse nocere sat est. / nec teneras segetes, sed durum amplectere ferrum, / quodque potest alios perdere perde prior./ utilius gladios et tela nocentia carpes: / nil opus est illis; otia mundus agit. / sarcula nunc durusque bidens et vomer aduncus, / ruris opes, niteant; inquinet arma situs, / conatusque aliquis vagina ducere ferrum / adstrictum longa sentiat esse mora. / at tu ne viola Cererem, semperque colonus / absenti possit solvere vota tibi.'

V 377-8

For an eternity may all of Ovid’s songs flourish, I pray, Flora, shower my heart with Your gift.

floreat ut toto carmen Nasonis in aevo, / sparge, precor, donis pectora nostra tuis.

V 435-7

After he has cleansed his hands with pure fountain water, he takes up the black beans in his mouth and turns, casting them back over his shoulder as he says, “This I send to you, Manes, with these beans I redeem me and mine.” When nine times he has says this, then he says, Manes of my forefathers, leave this place.” He looks back, the rite of purification he thinks completed.

cumque manus puras fontana perluit unda, / vertitur et nigras accipit ante fabas, / aversusque iacit; sed dum iacit, 'haec ego mitto, / his' inquit 'redimo meque meosque fabis.' / cum dixit novies 'manes exite paterni' / respicit, et pure sacra peracta putat.

V 447-8

Advise me, Pleiad Maia’s son, Mercurius, god of the venerated potent staff, often have You seen the court of Stygian Jove.

Pliade nate, mone, virga venerande potenti: / saepe tibi est Stygii regia visa Iovis.

V 573-7

If, Father, my war is authorized by Vesta’s priestess, and whenever I prepare to take divine vengeance, Mars, be by my side and satiate cold steel with guilt’s blood, and lend Your favour to the better side. If I am victorious for You I’ll build a shrine and call You Ultor, Mars the Avenger.

'si mihi bellandi pater est Vestaeque sacerdos / auctor, et ulcisci numen utrumque paro, / Mars, ades et satia scelerato sanguine ferrum, / stetque favor causa pro meliore tuus. / templa feres et, me victore, vocaberis Ultor.'

V 635-6

Tiber, teach me the truth, Your banks are older than the City, You are able to know better the rite’s origin.

Thybri, doce verum: tua ripa vetustior Urbe est; / principium ritus tu bene nosse potes.

V 663-70

Glorious Mercury, grandson of Atlas, be present here today as You were once upon Arcadia’s hill, a Pleiad’s son by Jove. Arbiter in peace and in arms among the Gods of the heavens above and on earth, traveler on winged feet, You who enjoys the lyre and who takes pleasure in whoever glistens with the wrestler’s ointment, You who has taught eloquent speech in all tongues, for You on the Ides of May, the Fathers once dedicated a sacred shrine near the Circus and named this day ever after to be Your feast day.

Clare nepos Atlantis, ades, quem montibus olim / edidit Arcadiis Pleias una Iovi: / pacis et armorum superis imisque deorum / arbiter, alato qui pede carpis iter, / laete lyrae pulsu, nitida quoque laete palaestra, / quo didicit culte lingua docente loqui, / templa tibi posuere patres spectantia Circum / Idibus; ex illo est haec tibi festa dies.

V681-90

(O Mercury) whether I have falsely called You to bear witness in the past, or deceitfully called upon Jupiter not to hear my empty promises, or if there is some other god or goddess that I knowingly deceived, wash away my past perjuries, wash away yesterday’s perfidious words, and allow me new perjuries to make when the new day dawns, and make the gods be indifferent to my lies. Grant that I may profit, grant joy in making a profit, grant that I may enjoy once more swindling my customers with deceitful words.

'ablue praeteriti periuria temporis', inquit / 'ablue praeteritae perfida verba die. / sive ego te feci testem, falsove citavi / non audituri numina vana Iovis, / sive deum prudens alium divamve fefelli, / abstulerint celeres improba dicta Noti: / et pateant veniente die periuria nobis, / nec curent superi siqua locutus ero. / a modo lucra mihi, da facto gaudia lucro, / et fac ut emptori verba dedisse iuvet.'

V 693

Reveal to me, I pray, for mine is the greater prayer, at what time the sun enters Gemini

At mihi pande, precor, tanto meliora petenti, / in Geminos ex quo tempore Phoebus eat.

V 716-8

Then Pollux said, “Gather in my words, Father, and grant that the heavenly abode You reserved for me alone may be shared, for then half of the whole shall be a greater gift.

cum "mea" dixisti "percipe verba, pater: / quod mihi das uni caelum, partire duobus; / dimidium toto munere maius erit."

VI 249-50

Vesta favor me. To You now our voices lift in praise as by this rite it is allowed that we may approach You.

Vesta, fave: tibi nunc operata resolvimus ora, / ad tua si nobis sacra venire licet.

VI 449-52

Forgive this sacrilege that I commit as I enter where no man may go. If this is a sin, may the punishment fall on me alone, and with myself damned, may Rome be absolved.

haurit aquas, tollensque manus 'ignoscite', dixit / 'sacra: vir intrabo non adeunda viro / si scelus est, in me commissi poena redundet: / sit capitis damno Roma soluta mei.

VI 517

Gods and men of this place, give succor to a pitiful mother.

dique virique loci, miserae succurrite matri.

VI 652

Come now, golden haired Minerva, to favor my the task I’ve begun.

nunc ades o coeptis, flava Minerva, meis.

VI 798

Muses Pierides, add refinement to what I have begun.

Pierides, coeptis addite summa meis.