Georgics
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- All these rules
- Regarding, let your land, ay, long before,
- Scorch to the quick, and into trenches carve
- The mighty mountains, and their upturned clods
- Bare to the north wind, ere thou plant therein
- The vine's prolific kindred. Fields whose soil
- Is crumbling are the best: winds look to that,
- And bitter hoar-frosts, and the delver's toil
- Untiring, as he stirs the loosened glebe.
- But those, whose vigilance no care escapes,
- Search for a kindred site, where first to rear
- A nursery for the trees, and eke whereto
- Soon to translate them, lest the sudden shock
- From their new mother the young plants estrange.
- Nay, even the quarter of the sky they brand
- Upon the bark, that each may be restored,
- As erst it stood, here bore the southern heats,
- Here turned its shoulder to the northern pole;
- So strong is custom formed in early years.
- Whether on hill or plain 'tis best to plant
- Your vineyard first inquire. If on some plain
- You measure out rich acres, then plant thick;
- Thick planting makes no niggard of the vine;
- But if on rising mound or sloping bill,
- Then let the rows have room, so none the less
- Each line you draw, when all the trees are set,
- May tally to perfection. Even as oft
- In mighty war, whenas the legion's length
- Deploys its cohorts, and the column stands
- In open plain, the ranks of battle set,
- And far and near with rippling sheen of arms
- The wide earth flickers, nor yet in grisly strife
- Foe grapples foe, but dubious 'twixt the hosts
- The war-god wavers; so let all be ranged
- In equal rows symmetric, not alone
- To feed an idle fancy with the view,
- But since not otherwise will earth afford
- Vigour to all alike, nor yet the boughs
- Have power to stretch them into open space.
- Shouldst haply of the furrow's depth inquire,
- Even to a shallow trench I dare commit
- The vine; but deeper in the ground is fixed
- The tree that props it, aesculus in chief,
- Which howso far its summit soars toward heaven,
- So deep strikes root into the vaults of hell.
- It therefore neither storms, nor blasts, nor showers
- Wrench from its bed; unshaken it abides,
- Sees many a generation, many an age
- Of men roll onward, and survives them all,
- Stretching its titan arms and branches far,
- Sole central pillar of a world of shade.
- Nor toward the sunset let thy vineyards slope,
- Nor midst the vines plant hazel; neither take
- The topmost shoots for cuttings, nor from the top
- Of the supporting tree your suckers tear;
- So deep their love of earth; nor wound the plants
- With blunted blade; nor truncheons intersperse
- Of the wild olive: for oft from careless swains
- A spark hath fallen, that, 'neath the unctuous rind
- Hid thief-like first, now grips the tough tree-bole,
- And mounting to the leaves on high, sends forth
- A roar to heaven, then coursing through the boughs
- And airy summits reigns victoriously,
- Wraps all the grove in robes of fire, and gross
- With pitch-black vapour heaves the murky reek
- Skyward, but chiefly if a storm has swooped
- Down on the forest, and a driving wind
- Rolls up the conflagration. When 'tis so,
- Their root-force fails them, nor, when lopped away,
- Can they recover, and from the earth beneath
- Spring to like verdure; thus alone survives
- The bare wild olive with its bitter leaves.
- Let none persuade thee, howso weighty-wise,
- To stir the soil when stiff with Boreas' breath.
- Then ice-bound winter locks the fields, nor lets
- The young plant fix its frozen root to earth.
- Best sow your vineyards when in blushing Spring
- Comes the white bird long-bodied snakes abhor,
- Or on the eve of autumn's earliest frost,
- Ere the swift sun-steeds touch the wintry Signs,
- While summer is departing. Spring it is
- Blesses the fruit-plantation, Spring the groves;
- In Spring earth swells and claims the fruitful seed.
- Then Aether, sire omnipotent, leaps down
- With quickening showers to his glad wife's embrace,
- And, might with might commingling, rears to life
- All germs that teem within her; then resound
- With songs of birds the greenwood-wildernesses,
- And in due time the herds their loves renew;
- Then the boon earth yields increase, and the fields
- Unlock their bosoms to the warm west winds;
- Soft moisture spreads o'er all things, and the blades
- Face the new suns, and safely trust them now;
- The vine-shoot, fearless of the rising south,
- Or mighty north winds driving rain from heaven,
- Bursts into bud, and every leaf unfolds.
- Even so, methinks, when Earth to being sprang,
- Dawned the first days, and such the course they held;
- 'Twas Spring-tide then, ay, Spring, the mighty world
- Was keeping: Eurus spared his wintry blasts,
- When first the flocks drank sunlight, and a race
- Of men like iron from the hard glebe arose,
- And wild beasts thronged the woods, and stars the heaven.
- Nor could frail creatures bear this heavy strain,
- Did not so large a respite interpose
- 'Twixt frost and heat, and heaven's relenting arms
- Yield earth a welcome.
- For the rest, whate'er
- The sets thou plantest in thy fields, thereon
- Strew refuse rich, and with abundant earth
- Take heed to hide them, and dig in withal
- Rough shells or porous stone, for therebetween
- Will water trickle and fine vapour creep,
- And so the plants their drooping spirits raise.
- Aye, and there have been, who with weight of stone
- Or heavy potsherd press them from above;
- This serves for shield in pelting showers, and this
- When the hot dog-star chaps the fields with drought.