Eclogue 1

Meliboeus
Tityre, tu patulae recubans sub tegmine fagi
silvestrem tenui Musam meditaris avena;
nos patriae fines et dulcia linquimus arva.
nos patriam fugimus; tu, Tityre, lentus in umbra
formosam resonare doces Amaryllida silvas.

Tityrus, you lying under the spreading shade of the beech I behold
contemplating woodland music with your reed; we abandoned our
country borders and sweet fields, we fled our fatherland; you Tityrus,
carefree in the shade teach the trees to resonate the beautiful
amaryllis.
Tityrus
O Meliboee, deus nobis haec otia fecit.
namque erit ille mihi semper deus, illius aram
saepe tener nostris ab ovilibus imbuet agnus.
ille meas errare boves, ut cernis, et ipsum
ludere quae vellem calamo permisit agresti.

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Oh Meliboeus, a god made these quiet times for us, for he will always
be a god to us, the soft goatling of our flock will always stain his altar.
You see, he allows me my cows to wander and for myself to play that I
want on the agrarian reed.
Meliboeus
Non equidem invideo, miror magis; undique totis
usque adeo turbatur agris. en ipse capellas
protenus aeger ago; hanc etiam vix, Tityre, duco.
hic inter densas corylos modo namque gemellos,
spem gregis, a, silice in nuda conixa reliquit.
saepe malum hoc nobis, si mens non laeva fuisset,
de caelo tactas memini praedicere quercus.
sed tamen iste deus qui sit da, Tityre,nobis.

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Indeed I do not envy, I more admire; from all directions everywhere

there is disturbance in the fields, alas I broken/sick herd the goats
myself; this one I barely lead, Tityrus, for here among the dense reeds
she almost left behind these twin baby goats, the hope of the heard,
helpless on the bare rock.
of
Tityrus
Urbem quam dicunt Romam, Meliboee, putavi
stultus ego huic nostrae similem, cui saepe solemus

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pastores ovium teneros depellere fetus.

sic canibus catulos similes, sic matribus haedos
noram, sic parvis componere magna solebam.
verum haec tantum alias inter caput extulit urbes
quantum lenta solent inter viburna cupressi.

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The city which they speak of Rome, Meliboeus, stupid me I thought was
similar to ours, to which place we pastors are used to often sent the
young goats of the sheep, like the puppy to the dog, as the new kids to
goads, thus I compared the the great (city) to the small ones.
Meliboeus
Et quae tanta fuit Romam tibi causa videndi?
And what thing was so great to you for the sake of seeing Rome?
Tityrus
Libertas, quae sera tamen respexit inertem,
candidior postquam tondenti barba cadebat,
respexit tamen et longo post tempore venit,
postquam nos Amaryllis habet, Galatea reliquit.
namque - fatebor enim - dum me Galatea tenebat,
nec spes libertatis erat nec cura peculi.
quamvis multa meis exiret victima saeptis
pinguis et ingratae premeretur caseus urbi,
non umquam gravis aere domum mihi dextra redibat.

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Freedom, which although ________________,

After the white beard had fallen from the clippers,
She however responded and came after a long time after Amaryllis had
us, Galatea left us. For, I will confess, while Galatea had me, there was
neither a hope of freedom nor care for the cattle, although many
victims of mine had left from the ____ stable and __________,
Not ever did I return home with a hand heavy with copper
Meliboeus
Mirabar quid maesta deos, Amarylli, vocares,
cui pendere sua patereris in arbore poma.
Tityrus hinc aberat. ipsae te, Tityre, pinus,
ipsi te fontes, ipsa haec arbusta vocabant.
I used to wonder why you sad called the gods Amaryllis,
To whom you are allowed to hang your own fruit in your tree.
Tityrus left from this place, the pines, the fountains themselves, the
orchard itself calls to you.

Tityrus
Quid facerem? neque servitio me exire licebat
nec tam praesentis alibi cognoscere divos.
hic illum vidi iuvenem, Meliboee, quot annis
bis senos cui nostra dies altaria fumant,
hic mihi responsum primus dedit ille petenti:
'pascite ut ante boves, pueri, submittite tauros.'

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What could I do? It was neither allowed for me to leave by servitude

nor to find such eager a gold elsewhere.
I saw that youth, melibous, for whom twice six days a year,we burn our
altars,
Here to me he first gave the response to me seeking:
tend to your cows as before, boy, submit your bulls.
Meliboeus
Fortunate senex, ergo tua rura manebunt
et tibi magna satis, quamvis lapis omnia nudus
limosoque palus obducat pascua iunco.
non insueta gravis temptabunt pabula fetas
nec mala vicini pecoris contagia laedent.
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fortunate senex, hic inter flumina nota
et fontis sacros frigus captabis opacum;
hinc tibi, quae semper, vicino ab limite saepes
Hyblaeis apibus florem depasta salicti
saepe levi somnum suadebit inire susurro;
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hinc alta sub rupe canet frondator ad auras,
nec tamen interea raucae, tua cura, palumbes
nec gemere aeria cessabit turtur ab ulmo.
Fortunate old man, therefore your lands will remain yours and great
enough for you, although
Unknown grass will not tempt the pregnant goats nor will the bad
contagions of the neighboring herd reach. Lucky old man, here among
the known rivers and sacred springs you will find cool shade; here for
you, as always, from the neighbouring shrub the Hyblain bees having

Tityrus
Ante leves ergo pascentur in aethere cervi
et freta destituent nudos in litore pisces,
ante pererratis amborum finibus exsul

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aut Ararim Parthus bibet aut Germania Tigrim,

quam nostro illius labatur pectore vultus.
Therefore sooner bucks graze in the air and the seas through the bare
fish on the rocks, before having been exiled from the
The Parthian drinks from the ararim or the german the tigris,
Than will his mind fall from my chest.
Meliboeus
At nos hinc alii sitientis ibimus Afros,
pars Scythiam et rapidum cretae veniemus Oaxen
et penitus toto divisos orbe Britannos.
en umquam patrios longo post tempore finis
pauperis et tuguri congestum caespite culmen,
post aliquot, mea regna, videns mirabor aristas?
impius haec tam culta novalia miles habebit,
barbarus has segetes. en quo discordia civis
produxit miseros; his nos consevimus agros!
insere nunc, Meliboee, piros, pone ordine vites.
ite meae, felix quondam pecus, ite capellae.
non ego vos posthac viridi proiectus in antro
dumosa pendere procul de rupe videbo;
carmina nulla canam; non me pascente, capellae,
florentem cytisum et salices carpetis amaras.

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And some (of us) we will go thirsty to Africa, a part to Scythia, and we
will come to the place where Oaxes throqs up chalk and to Britannus
absolutely divided from the rest of the world. For will I ever after a long
time see my fatherland borders and the thatched roof of my humble
hut, after some years, I wonder me seeing ears of corn?
The wretched soldier will have these fields freshly tilled, the barbarian
will have these crops, look what discord produces for wretched citizens;
we cultivated our lands for these people! Mebliebus now graft your
pears, put your vines in rows. Go my once lucky flock, go my goats.
After this I will not watch you from afar from the green grotto/cave
hanging from the leafy rock ; I will sing no songs; you will not graze,
goats, with me shepherding on flowering clover and bitter willows.
Tityrus
Hic tamen hanc mecum poteras requiescere noctem
fronde super viridi. sunt nobis mitia poma,
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castaneae molles et pressi copia lactis,
et iam summa procul villarum culmina fumant
maioresque cadunt altis de montibus umbrae.

Here however you will be able to rest with me this night on the leafy
green. There are for us soft fruits, mealy chestnuts and fresh pressed
milk, and already the roofs of the huts are smoking and larger shadows
are falling from the tall mountains.

Eclogue 2
Formosum pastor Corydon ardebat Alexin,
delicias domini, nec quid speraret habebat.
tantum inter densas, umbrosa cacumina, fagos
adsidue veniebat. ibi haec incondita solus
montibus et silvis studio iactabat inani;
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The pastor Corydon burned for Alex, the sweetheart of his master, he
did not have anything to hope for. He only came among the dense
grass, covered by shadow,
There he threw out these coarse things with foolish zeal to the
mountains and woods.
'O crudelis Alexi, nihil mea carmina curas?
nil nostri miserere? mori me denique cogis?
nunc etiam pecudes umbras et frigora captant,
nunc virides etiam occultant spineta lacertos,
Thestylis et rapido fessis messoribus aestu
alia serpyllumque herbas contundit olentis.
at mecum raucis, tua dum vestigia lustro,
sole sub ardenti resonant arbusta cicadis.
nonne fuit satius tristis Amaryllidos iras
atque superba pati fastidia? nonne Menalcan,
quamvis ille niger, quamvis tu candidus esses?
o formose puer, nimium ne crede colori;
alba ligustra cadunt, vaccinia nigra leguntur.

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O cruel alex, do you care not for my songs? Do you not pity me? Do
you want me to in the end die??? Now even the cows seek shadows
and the cool, now green lizards hide in the hedges, thestylis and
collectors exhausted with head/vigor pick/crush garlic, thyme and
other savoury herbs.
And with me, as long as I follow your footsteps, are only the shrill
cicadas calling under the bushes/treeds.
Was it not better to suffer the rage and scorns of proud stubborn
amaryllis? Was it not better to suffer Menalca, although he is black,
and although you were white?

O beautiful boy, do not believe anything of your color; white flowers

fall, black berries are picked.
Despectus tibi sum nec qui sim quaeris, Alexi,
quam dives pecoris, nivei quam lactis abundans.
mille meae Siculis errant in montibus agnae;
lac mihi non aestate novum, non frigore defit.
canto quae solitus, si quando armenta vocabat,
Amphion Dircaeus in Actaeo Aracyntho.
nec sum adeo informis; nuper me in litore vidi,
cum placidum ventis staret mare. non ego Daphnin
iudice te metuam, si numquam fallit imago.

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I am scored, Alex, you do not ask who I am, how rich in cattle, how
abundant in snow white milk. A thousand of my sheep roam on the
Sicilian mountains; milk is not lacking to me in summer, nor in winter. I
sing as usually, if when Amphion Dircaeus is calling his flock home in
Actean Aracynthus. On top of this I am not unsightly; recently I saw
myself in the shore, when the sea stood placated by the winds. I will
not fear Daphnis with you as judge, if the mirror never lies.
O tantum libeat mecum tibi sordida rura
atque humilis habitare casas et figere cervos
haedorumque gregem viridi compellere hibisco!
mecum una in silvis imitabere Pana canendo.
Pan primum calamos cera coniungere pluris
instituit, Pan curat ovis oviumque magistros;
nec te paeniteat calamo trivisse labellum.
haec eadem ut sciret, quid non faciebat Amyntas?
est mihi disparibus septem compacta cicutis
fistula, Damoetas dono mihi quam dedit olim
et dixit moriens: 'te nunc habet ista secundum';
dixit Damoetas, invidit stultus Amyntas.
praeterea duonec tuta mihi valle reperti
capreoli sparsis etiam nunc pellibus albo,
bina die siccant ovis ubera; quos tibi servo.
iam pridem a me illos abducere Thestylis orat;
et faciet, quoniam sordent tibi munera nostra.

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Oh only if it pleased you to live in some humble huts in the dirty

countryside with me and shoot bucks and drive the herd of kids with a
green hibiscus!
Imitate with me as one Pan by singing in the woods.
Pan first joined together sevral reeds with wax. Pan takes care of the
sheep and shepherds. Do not hesitate to bruise your lip on the reed. To
learn this same thing, what did Amyntas not do? It is to me the pipe

made with seven different lengthed reeds, which dameotas gave to me

once as a gift and dying saidnow it has you as its second (owner) said
dametas, stupid amyntas was jealous. Meanwhile two rowbucks, found
by me in an unsafe valley, still now with pelts spotted with white, dry
two teats of sheep each day; which I save for you. Thestylis says that
pride takes them from me, and it will, since our gifts are dirty to you.
Huc ades, o formose puer, tibi lilia plenis
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ecce ferunt Nymphae calathis; tibi candida Nais,
pallentis violas et summa papavera carpens,
narcissum et florem iungit bene olentis anethi;
tum casia atque aliis intexens suavibus herbis
mollia luteola pingit vaccinia caltha.
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ipse ego cana legam tenera lanugine mala
castaneasque nuces, mea quas Amaryllis amabat;
addam cerea prunahonos erit huic quoque pomo
et vos, o lauri, carpam et te, proxime myrte,
sic positae quoniam suavis miscetis odores.
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Come here, oh beautiful boy. Behold for you the nymphs bring lilies in
full baskes; for you brilliant Nais, plucking pale violets and poppy
heads, joins together narcissum and the flower of sweet dill; then
interweaving cassia and other sweet hers sets hyacinth with golden
marigold. I myself pick quinces white with soft down and nutty
chestnuts, which my Amaryllis had loved; I add to this prunes the
honor will be to this fruit as well, and you, oh laurel, I take and you,
neighbouring myrtle, since thus next to each other you will mx your
sweet odors.
Rusticus es, Corydon; nec munera curat Alexis
nec, si muneribus certes, concedat Iollas.
heu heu, quid volui misero mihi? floribus Austrum
perditus et liquidis inmissi fontibus apros.
You are a bumpkin, Corydon; Alexis does not care for your gifts, nor, if
you compete in gifts, will Iollas concede. Alas alas, what did I wish for
wretched me? I sent the wind to my flowers to destruction and boars to
the clear springs.
Quem fugis, a, demens? habitarunt di quoque silvas
Dardaniusque Paris. Pallas quas condidit arces
ipsa colat; nobis placeant ante omnia silvae.
torva leaena lupum sequitur, lupus ipse capellam,
florentem cytisum sequitur lasciva capella,
te Corydon, o Alexi; trahit sua quemque voluptas.

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What do you flee, idiot? Even the gods have lived in the woods and
Dardinia Paris. Let pallas live in the arches which she herself build; let
the woods please me before all. The wild lioness follows the wolf, the
wolf itself the she goat, the wanton shegoat follows the flowering
clover, corydon follows you, o alex; their own desire trags along each
person.
Aspice, aratra iugo referunt suspensa iuvenci
et sol crescentis decedens duplicat umbras.
me tamen urit amor; quis enim modus adsit amori?
a, Corydon, Corydon, quae te dementia cepit!
semiputata tibi frondosa vitis in ulmo.
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quin tu aliquid saltem potius, quorum indiget usus,
viminibus mollique paras detexere iunco?
invenies alium, si te hic fastidit, Alexin.'
Look, the oxen carry home the plow hanging by the yolk and the
descending sun doubles the growing shadows. Love however burns
me; for what limit is to love?
Oh corydon, corydon, what craziness captures you! Your vine is half
pruned on the leafy elm. Why do you not rather prepare to weave
something with vines and soft reed of which use requires? You will
find another Alexis, if this one scorns you.