#sirmio

Juan Ferraté · Líricos griegos arcaicos · Sirmio Quaderns Crema (1991 , 1968 edición original) · Leerlo en Archive

Row us out from Desenzano, to your Sirmione row! So they row'd, and there we landed-"O venusta Sirmio" There to me through all the groves of olive in the summer glow, There beneath the Roman ruin where the purple flowers grow, Came that 'Ave atque Vale' of the Poet's hopeless woe, Tenderest of Roman poets nineteen-hundred years ago, 'Frater Ave atque Vale' - as we wandered to and fro Gazing at the Lydian laughter of the Garda Lake below Sweet Catullus's all-but-island, olive-silvery Sirmio!

Sirmio, thou dearest dear of strands  That Neptune strokes in lake and sea,  With what high joy from stranger lands  Doth thy old friend set foot on thee!  Yea, barely seems it true to me  That no Bithynia holds me now,  But calmly and assuringly  Around me stretchest homely Thou.  Is there a scene more sweet than when  Our clinging cares are undercast,  And, worn by alien moils and men,  The long untrodden sill repassed,  We press the pined for couch at last,  And find a full repayment there?  Then hail, sweet Sirmio; thou that wast,  And art, mine own unrivalled Fair! 

Paene insularum, Sirmio, Insularumque ocelle, quascumque in liquentibus stagnis marique vasto fert uterque neptunus, quam te libenter quamque laetus inviso, vix mi ipse credens Thyniam atque Bithynos liquisse campos et videre te in tuto. O quid solutis est beatius curis, cum mens onus reponit, ac peregrino labore fessi venimus larem ad nostrum, desideratoque acquiescimus lecto? Hoc est quod unum est pro laboribus tantis. Salve, o venusta Sirmio, atque ero gaude gaudente; vosque, o Lydiae lacus undae, ridete quidquid est dome cachinnorum.