The Georgics
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第3章 GEORGIC I(3)

Us too behoves Arcturus' sign observe, And the Kids' seasons and the shining Snake, No less than those who o'er the windy main Borne homeward tempt the Pontic, and the jaws Of oyster-rife Abydos. When the Scales Now poising fair the hours of sleep and day Give half the world to sunshine, half to shade, Then urge your bulls, my masters; sow the plain Even to the verge of tameless winter's showers With barley: then, too, time it is to hide Your flax in earth, and poppy, Ceres' joy, Aye, more than time to bend above the plough, While earth, yet dry, forbids not, and the clouds Are buoyant. With the spring comes bean-sowing;Thee, too, Lucerne, the crumbling furrows then Receive, and millet's annual care returns, What time the white bull with his gilded horns Opens the year, before whose threatening front, Routed the dog-star sinks. But if it be For wheaten harvest and the hardy spelt, Thou tax the soil, to corn-ears wholly given, Let Atlas' daughters hide them in the dawn, The Cretan star, a crown of fire, depart, Or e'er the furrow's claim of seed thou quit, Or haste thee to entrust the whole year's hope To earth that would not. Many have begun Ere Maia's star be setting; these, I trow, Their looked-for harvest fools with empty ears.

But if the vetch and common kidney-bean Thou'rt fain to sow, nor scorn to make thy care Pelusiac lentil, no uncertain sign Bootes' fall will send thee; then begin, Pursue thy sowing till half the frosts be done.

Therefore it is the golden sun, his course Into fixed parts dividing, rules his way Through the twelve constellations of the world.

Five zones the heavens contain; whereof is one Aye red with flashing sunlight, fervent aye From fire; on either side to left and right Are traced the utmost twain, stiff with blue ice, And black with scowling storm-clouds, and betwixt These and the midmost, other twain there lie, By the Gods' grace to heart-sick mortals given, And a path cleft between them, where might wheel On sloping plane the system of the Signs.

And as toward Scythia and Rhipaean heights The world mounts upward, likewise sinks it down Toward Libya and the south, this pole of ours Still towering high, that other, 'neath their feet, By dark Styx frowned on, and the abysmal shades.

Here glides the huge Snake forth with sinuous coils 'Twixt the two Bears and round them river-wise-The Bears that fear 'neath Ocean's brim to dip.

There either, say they, reigns the eternal hush Of night that knows no seasons, her black pall Thick-mantling fold on fold; or thitherward From us returning Dawn brings back the day;And when the first breath of his panting steeds On us the Orient flings, that hour with them Red Vesper 'gins to trim his his 'lated fires.

Hence under doubtful skies forebode we can The coming tempests, hence both harvest-day And seed-time, when to smite the treacherous main With driving oars, when launch the fair-rigged fleet, Or in ripe hour to fell the forest-pine.

Hence, too, not idly do we watch the stars-Their rising and their setting-and the year, Four varying seasons to one law conformed.

If chilly showers e'er shut the farmer's door, Much that had soon with sunshine cried for haste, He may forestall; the ploughman batters keen His blunted share's hard tooth, scoops from a tree His troughs, or on the cattle stamps a brand, Or numbers on the corn-heaps; some make sharp The stakes and two-pronged forks, and willow-bands Amerian for the bending vine prepare.

Now let the pliant basket plaited be Of bramble-twigs; now set your corn to parch Before the fire; now bruise it with the stone.

Nay even on holy days some tasks to ply Is right and lawful: this no ban forbids, To turn the runnel's course, fence corn-fields in, Make springes for the birds, burn up the briars, And plunge in wholesome stream the bleating flock.

Oft too with oil or apples plenty-cheap The creeping ass's ribs his driver packs, And home from town returning brings instead A dented mill-stone or black lump of pitch.

The moon herself in various rank assigns The days for labour lucky: fly the fifth;Then sprang pale Orcus and the Eumenides;Earth then in awful labour brought to light Coeus, Iapetus, and Typhoeus fell, And those sworn brethren banded to break down The gates of heaven; thrice, sooth to say, they strove Ossa on Pelion's top to heave and heap, Aye, and on Ossa to up-roll amain Leafy Olympus; thrice with thunderbolt Their mountain-stair the Sire asunder smote.

Seventh after tenth is lucky both to set The vine in earth, and take and tame the steer, And fix the leashes to the warp; the ninth To runagates is kinder, cross to thieves.

Many the tasks that lightlier lend themselves In chilly night, or when the sun is young, And Dawn bedews the world. By night 'tis best To reap light stubble, and parched fields by night;For nights the suppling moisture never fails.

And one will sit the long late watches out By winter fire-light, shaping with keen blade The torches to a point; his wife the while, Her tedious labour soothing with a song, Speeds the shrill comb along the warp, or else With Vulcan's aid boils the sweet must-juice down, And skims with leaves the quivering cauldron's wave.

But ruddy Ceres in mid heat is mown, And in mid heat the parched ears are bruised Upon the floor; to plough strip, strip to sow;Winter's the lazy time for husbandmen.

In the cold season farmers wont to taste The increase of their toil, and yield themselves To mutual interchange of festal cheer.

Boon winter bids them, and unbinds their cares, As laden keels, when now the port they touch, And happy sailors crown the sterns with flowers.

Nathless then also time it is to strip Acorns from oaks, and berries from the bay, Olives, and bleeding myrtles, then to set Snares for the crane, and meshes for the stag, And hunt the long-eared hares, then pierce the doe With whirl of hempen-thonged Balearic sling, While snow lies deep, and streams are drifting ice.