Horace,

Carmina 1.5

Quis multā gracilis tē puer in rosā

perfūsus liquidīs urget odōribus

grātō, Pyrrha, sub antrō?

cui flāvam religās comam,

simplex munditiīs? heu quotiens fidem

mūtātōsque deōs flēbit et aspera

nigrīs aequora ventīs

ēmīrābitur insolens,

quī nunc tē fruitur crēdulus aureā,

quī semper vacuam, semper amābilem

spērat, nescius aurae

fallācis. miserī, quibus

intemptāta nitēs. mē tabulā sacer

vōtīvā pariēs indicat ūvida

suspendisse potentī

vestīmenta maris deō. 

What slender youth bedew'd with liquid odours

Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave,

Pyrrha for whom bind'st thou

In wreaths thy golden Hair,

Plain in thy neatness; O how oft shall he

On Faith and changed Gods complain: and Seas

Rough with black winds and storms

Unwonted shall admire:

Who now enjoyes thee credulous, all Gold,

Who alwayes vacant, alwayes amiable

Hopes thee; of flattering gales

Unmindfull. Hapless they

To whom thou untry'd seem'st fair. Me in my vow'd

Picture the sacred wall declares t' have hung

My dank and dropping weeds

To the stern God of Sea.

Trans. John Milton

Click here to download file