Ilustration by Frederico Righi
Publius Ovidius Naso 43 BC – c. 17 AD
A pale colour would shame a sailor on the ocean wave,
who’s blackened by the rays of the sun:
and shame the farmer who turns the soil with curved plough
and heavy harrow, underneath the heavens.
And you who seek the athlete’s crown, you too
would be ashamed if all your body was white.
Let all lovers be pale: it’s the colour fitting for love:
it suits, though fools have thought it of no value.
Orion wandered pale, for Side, in the woods,
Daphnis was pale for his reluctant Naiad.
Let your leanness show your heart: don’t think it a shame
to slip a cape over your shining hair:
Let youthful limbs be worn away by sleepless nights
and care, and the grief of a great love.
To gain your desire, be miserable,
and those who see you can say ‘You’re in love.’
Should I lament, warn you perhaps that right and wrong
are confused by all? Friendship and loyalty empty words.
Ah me, it’s not safe to praise your love to a friend:
if he believes your praise, he’ll steal her himself.
But Patroclus never disgraced Achilles’s bed:
and how modest Phaedra was with Pirithous.
Pylades loved Hermione, just as Phoebus Pallas,
or as Castor was twin to you Pollux.
Who hopes for that, hopes for apple-bearing tamarisks,
and looks for honey in the middle of the stream.
All delight in what’s shameful: care only for their pleasures,
and are pleased too when trouble comes to others.
Ah it’s a crime! It’s not their rivals that lovers fear:
flee those you think are friends, and you’ll be safe.
Beware of brothers, relatives, and dear friends:
that crowd offers you true cause for fear.
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