[Glenn Wright]

This ode is addressed to Licinius. It contains another famous phrase in line 6 showing Horace’s Epicurean philosophy: auream . . .mediocritatem “the golden mean” or more loosely, “nothing in excess.” It is written in Sapphic stanzas
(— = long/stressed syllable, * = short/unstressed syllable):

— * — — — / * * — * — —
— * — — — / * * — * — —
— * — — — / * * — * — —
— * * — —

(Note: Traditionally, in Sapphic stanzas the fourth syllable of the first three lines is anceps, meaning it may be long/stressed or short/unstressed. In Horace, this syllable is always long/stressed.)

Latin poetry uses long syllables (like half-notes in music) and short syllables (like quarter notes) to determine meter. English uses stressed and unstressed syllables. Because Sapphic stanzas have a high proportion of stressed syllables relative to unstressed, it is difficult to write them in English without sounding as though you are shouting. In my translation, I chose to render the ode into 4-line stanzas of anapestic tetrameter rhyming AABB. Horace used a wide variety of meters in his odes, but almost all of them use four-line stanzas. I chose anapestic meter to highlight the sunny, optimistic tone of the poem, and the rhyme scheme is intended to evoke the philosophical subject matter of the admirers and imitators of Horace who lived during the Age of Reason and wrote about philosophical topics in rhyming heroic couplets: Dryden, Pope, Swift, and their ilk. This form, I felt, approximated most closely the mood and music of Horace’s poem.

Odes: Book 2, Poem 10
by Quintus Horatius Flaccus

Licinius, your life will be vastly more worthy
if prudence is used to determine your journey,
not always daring the dangerous deep,
nor, storm-frightened, hugging the coastline so steep.

A wiser and soberer sailor is seen
in the person who prizes the great golden mean,
who has neither a filthy and tumbledown shanty,
nor a palace to kindle the envy of many.

Quite often in windstorms a huge pine will smash
to the ground, and tall towers will fall with a crash;
from nowhere the lightning bolts flash in a streak
and strike the high summits of each mountain peak.

The heart hopes in dangers and fears to lose favor,
prepared well, no matter how fortunes may waver;
Jupiter marshals the threatening storms,
himself leading in the clouds’ ominous forms,

then he drives them away. If things are bad now,
soon they will not be: with leaves on his brow
Apollo will raise the mute Muse with his lyre,
not bend back his bow with vengeance and ire.

In difficult times, appear lively and brave;
at the same time, when sailing is smooth on the wave,
take a moment to shorten your billowing sail
so the fortunate winds may not cause you to fail.

————————
Edits:
S1L2: if you let caution in storms guide your journey, > if prudence is used to determine your journey,
S1L4: nor hugging the shore, so rugged and steep. > nor, storm-frightened, hugging the coastline so steep.
S2L3: who has neither a filthy, tumbledown shanty, > who has neither a filthy and tumbledown shanty,
S4L2: well-prepared, no matter how fortunes may waver; > prepared well, no matter how fortunes may waver;
S6L3: have a caution to shorten your billowing sail > give a thought to shortening your billowing sail > take a moment to shorten your billowing sail


Original Latin from Perseus Project

Odes: Liber II, Carmen x
Quinti Horati Flacci

Rectius vives, Licini, neque altum
semper urgendo neque, dum procellas
cautus horrescis, nimium premendo
litus iniquum.

auream quisquis mediocritatem
diligit, tutus caret obsoleti
sordibus tecti, caret invidenda
sobrius aula.

saepius ventis agitatur ingens
pinus et celsae graviore casu
decidunt turres feriuntque summos
fulgura montis.

sperat infestis, metuit secundis
alteram sortem bene praeparatum
pectus, informis hiemes reducit
Iuppiter, idem

submovet. non, si male nunc, et olim
sic erit: quondam cithara tacentem
suscitat Musam neque semper arcum
tendit Apollo.

rebus angustis animosus atque
fortis adpare: sapienter idem
contrahes vento nimium secundo
turgida vela.


Crib:

You will live more uprightly, Licinius, neither by
always pushing out into the deep, nor, cautious, while
you dread storms, by pressing too close
to the treacherous/rugged shore.

Whoever prizes the golden mean,
who lacks a tumbledown, filthy hut,
who lacks an enviable palace,
is considered more sober.

Quite often, driven by the winds,
the huge pine and lofty towers with a very heavy fall
crash down, and lightning bolts strike
the tops of the mountain range.

The heart hopes in dangers, fears in prosperity,
well-prepared for either of the two fortunes,
Jupiter brings back shapeless winters/storms;
he himself

drives them away. If it is bad now,
in the future it will not be so: sometimes,
the lyre raises the silent Muse,
nor does Apollo always bend his bow.

In difficulties/dire straits appear spirited/lively
and strong/brave: at the same time, wisely shorten,
when the wind is too favorable,
[your] billowing/inflated sail.

[Julie Steiner]

Oh, botheration, I lost my long-winded reply by accidentally shutting the window.

Glenn, I appreciate your stated intentions for the meter and rhyme scheme, but I'm not able to pick up on those in the actual translation. The bibbidi bobbidi boom of the anapests prevents me from making associations with philosophical rhymed couplets, so I'm getting a light verse vibe that is very unforgiving of imperfect rhymes like "worthy/journey" and "shanty/many." It feels as if a lot of effort is being expended to cross a very low bar, rhyme-wise.

I don't mind your changing the meter to something more familiar to English readers, but I think this one is not an instinctively graceful fit with the mood. The original's optimistic restraint has swung too far toward "don't worry, be happy," I think.

The Sapphic recipe isn't quite as long-dominated as you present above:

– u – x – u u – u – –
– u – x – u u – u – –
– u – x – u u – u – –
– u u –

Each fourth syllable of the first three lines is an anceps, which can be either long or short. And since the final syllable is long by position, regardless of how it would otherwise scan, that's basically an anceps, too, and can legitimately be a short syllable.

That doesn't obligate you to translate the poem into English Sapphics, of course.

Some of the translation choices (such as the two "caution"s, one in the first stanza and the other in the last) seem to recommend a hyper-careful mindset. However, the original treats overcautiousness as a Scylla equally to be avoided as the Charybdis of recklessness. Gotta thread that needle between them....

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Julie—

Thanks for the prompt response!

I think there is always pressure on readers of Classical writers to imbue them with an earnestness and intimidating sacredness which they may not always deserve. This is often true, I think, for readers of Horace. Particularly in his Satires, but also often in his Odes, Horace seems to me to project a kindly, dare I say avuncular personality. I felt some of that in this piece, and that informed my decision to go with bouncy anapests. Too much? Oh, just play along for 24 lines. Sorry about the clunky rhymes. (It worked for Dr. Seuss: “Oh, the places you’ll go. . .,”)

We cross-posted on the explanation of Sapphics. I added a note to the original explaining that in Horace the fourth syllable of the first three lines is always long.

I did take to heart your advice on the two “cautions.” I got rid of the second one.

Thanks again!
Glenn

[Carl Copeland]

Great, a new lesson in Latin poetry!

I love anapests, and I love Dr. Seuss, but like Julie, I expect a more sober tone from this ode. Maybe, as you suggest, it’s a misapprehension that you’ll relieve me of. The anapests and longer fourth lines (compared to the Latin) give you a lot of space to fill, and there is quite a bit of filler, though not as much as I thought from comparing the space taken up on the page by the Latin and English.

Just a few more thoughts:

In S1, your Horace recommends caution, while Horace’s Horace says to steer a path, in Julie’s words, between the Scylla of caution and the Charybdis of recklessness. Ok, he’s advising caution, not overcautiousness. But then why not substitute “daring” for “caution” and say he’s advising daring, not recklessness? Recommending caution skews the advice.

I wonder about carrying the sailor over from S1 into S2, which is explicitly set on land. Sailors can have houses, of course, but the link here seems extraneous.

In S4 I couldn’t figure out “The heart hopes in dangers and fears to lose favor.” I have mental blocks like that all the time, so I wouldn’t be too concerned, except that I’m not sure the opposition of danger and prosperity will come through even for quicker readers. It’s too easy to interpret as a dangerous situation in which there is fear of losing favor. That misses the golden mean again.

Also in S4, “threatening” and “ominous” seem redundant. Neither is in the original, unless that’s the sense you get from “shapeless.” What does Horace mean by “informis”?

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Carl—

Thanks for sticking with me on this one. I value your insights.

Originally Posted by Carl Copeland

I love anapests, and I love Dr. Seuss, but like Julie, I expect a more sober tone from this ode. Maybe, as you suggest, it’s a misapprehension that you’ll relieve me of. I hear the speaker as a kindly, older man gently encouraging his younger, more impulsive and reckless friend to think before he acts. I don’t hear any of the serious, pedantic, nagging tone of, for example, Daedalus’ admonition to Icarus in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. His hand-on-the-shoulder reminder that things will get better makes me think he is trying to cheer up his young friend. Thus, in this short poem, I thought the skipping, cheerful anapests were warranted. Since they make both you and Julie uncomfortable, though, I will continue to think about this.

In S1, your Horace recommends caution, while Horace’s Horace says to steer a path, in Julie’s words, between the Scylla of caution and the Charybdis of recklessness. Ok, he’s advising caution, not overcautiousness. But then why not substitute “daring” for “caution” and say he’s advising daring, not recklessness? Recommending caution skews the advice. Yes. The “cautus” refers only to his frightened response to the storm which causes him unsafely to sail too close to the rocky shore. I revised S1L2 and S1L4 to bring this into clearer focus.

I wonder about carrying the sailor over from S1 into S2, which is explicitly set on land. Sailors can have houses, of course, but the link here seems extraneous. Because the storm images are continued in the middle stanzas and the sailing imagery returns in the last stanza, I felt justified in using the sailor as an object lesson throughout the short poem.

In S4 I couldn’t figure out “The heart hopes in dangers and fears to lose favor.” I have mental blocks like that all the time, so I wouldn’t be too concerned, except that I’m not sure the opposition of danger and prosperity will come through even for quicker readers. It’s too easy to interpret as a dangerous situation in which there is fear of losing favor. That misses the golden mean again.Yes, this is a bit tricky. We are expecting an antithesis and we don’t quite get one. I think Horace means that the heart seeks happiness in unhappy times and fears unhappiness in happy times. I wish Horace had just said that.

Also in S4, “threatening” and “ominous” seem redundant. Neither is in the original, unless that’s the sense you get from “shapeless.” What does Horace mean by “informis”? Informis literally means “shapeless.” I imagine Jupiter leading an army of clouds that keep dissolving and re-forming into monstrous shapes. I chose “ominous” as the closest approximation to this. The word “reducit” is, among other things, a military term meaning “to lead into battle.” I used “threatening” to suggest this, but I see how it produces a redundancy. I’ll have to ponder that since a quick fix eludes me.

Thanks again!
Glenn