AS Latin - Amores 3.2 translation

AS Latin (Classics) Verse Literature - translation of Ovid's Amores 3.2 poem (At the races)

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  • Created on: 01-06-13 10:29
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I do not sit here out of eagerness for thoroughbred horses;
however, I pray that he who you yourself favour, will win.
I came to talk with you, and to sit with you,
so that the love which you cause is not unknown to you.
You are watching the race; I am watching you; each of us will be watching
what delights us and both of us feast our eyes.
O, whoever you favour is a lucky charioteer!
Therefore is this the reason why it befell him to be a concern of yours?
If this was my good fortune, I would press forward, carried by the horses,
sent out from the sacred racing stall, with a strong mind,
and sometimes I will slacken the reins, sometimes I will mark their backs by lashing,
now, I will graze the turning post with my inner wheel;
If you will have been caught sight of as I was racing, I would falter,
and the slackened reins would slip away from my hands.
Oh, how nearly Pelops fell by the spear of Pisa,
while watching your face, Hippodamia!
However, he won, of course, with the favour of his girl:
Let us each win with the favour of our mistress.
Why do you shrink back in vain? The line forces us to be joined together;
The Circus has these advantages in its rules of the place.
You however, on the right, whoever you are, spare the girl:
she is being hurt by contact of your side;
You, also, who is watching from behind us, draw up your legs together,
if you have sense of decency, and do not press her back with your hard knee!
But your dress, slipping down too much, is lying on the ground:
gather it up, or, look! I am lifting it up with my fingers!
Your were a jealous dress, which was covering up such good legs;
so that the more you watch ­ you were a jealous dress!
The legs like that of Atalanta as she runs away, which Milanion
prayed to hold with his hands.
The legs like that of girt up Diana, being painted
as she pursues wild beasts, herself braver than them.
I burned when I had not seen these; what will happen now, caused by them?
You are pouring flames into fire, water into the sea.
I suspect from those that the rest are able to please,
which lie hidden, well concealed, under your thin dress.
In the meantime however, do you want to summon gentle breezes,
which our little writing tablet, moved by hand, will make?
Or rather, is this the heat of my heart, not of the air,
and this love for a woman scorches my captured heart?
Whilst I talk, your white dress has been sprinkled with light dust:
Go away from her snow-white body, dirty dust!
But now the procession is coming: keep quiet and pay attention;
The time to applaud is here: the golden procession is coming.
In first place, Victory is carried with her wings unfolded.
Come here and be present, and see to it that this love of mine wins, goddess.
Applaud Neptune, you who trust the waves too much:
The sea is no concern for mine; my solid earth delights me.
Applaud your Mars, soldier, I hate arms,

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Let Phoebus be favourable to augurs, Phoebe to the hunters;
Turn the craftmens' hands to you, Minerva.
Country-dwellers, rise to your feet for Ceres and the young Bacchus.
Let boxers appease Pollux, let the horsemen appease Castor.
I applaud you, seductive Venus, and the powerful boys with the bow;
Nod in assent, goddess, to my decision,
and give to my new mistress the mind to allow herself to be loved.
She nodded, and gave a favourable sign by movement.…read more


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