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Horace, Odes Book I, 11
Leuci - please, bright mind - don’t ask -
we’re not supposed to know
how it’s going to end - not me,
not you. Don’t listen to fortunetellers.
Believe me, it’s better
to take whatever comes,
as it comes. Whether there’s more,
godwilling, whether this is our last winter
shattering the Etruscan Sea on those crumbling
rocks across: be wise.
Decant the wine, trim your endless
yearnings to fit the short hours.
While we’re talking, jealous time’s
running out - on us. Grab today. Believe
as little as possible in tomorrow.
translated by Art Beck
