lnhammer | Hints from Horace

—Odes I.9

While desert hills are weighted down by snow
And sun makes frosted cacti thorns blaze white,
While water in the washes now
Is locked in pools of ice,

Turn up the thermostat, as long as you
Can pay the bill, to melt your windows clear;
Mull the local cider, too,
For everyone who’s here:

Leave all the rest to some Coyote’s chance.
One day the wind will die, the chaparral
Break off a while its thrashing dance
Around the dry corral.

Till then, ignore it, and meanwhile count as proof
Of your good fortune all the friends you have;
Love now with all the sweetness youth
Can give to some new love;

Dance while the nightclub music played of late
Is still your thing; or meet in some cafe
For what you say is not a date
Over cups au lait;

And when the laughing girl betrays she has
No way to hide what you softly insist,
Nor quite wants to, hold firm her hands
That languidly protest.

—21 January 1995

Another Latin translation, or rather adaptation in this case. Written, as you can tell, before I'd learned how to rhyme.

---L.

Hints from Horace

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