SOMNUS By what crime or fault of mine have I deserved To be the only soul without the benefit Afforded others by this placid baby God? Settled are the livestock, and the wild as well, Birds also, for each drooping treetop testifies To a breezeless slumber; even waterfalls Recede into the distance as the hackles on The waves are stroked to smoothness and the sea itself Lies dormant in the snug of coastal cleavages. This is the seventh time the moon has swung around To gaze into my unrelieved returning stare: As often have the stars of dusk and dawn been back To peep at me, and, as I toss, Tithonia, Who drives the twinkling flock before her, sprinkles me With dewdrops from her whip. So hard to bear! And how much longer must I? If I had the thousand Eyes of Junos watchman I would get at least More sleep than this - there always was a part of him Which took a nap. But goodness, now, if anywhere Some person trammelled in his girls responding arms The long night through would drive you off deliberately, Come here to me, dear Somnus. Not that I insist That these poor orbs receive a thorough powdering Of soporific dust dispensed by fluttering - Happier mortals may demand such luxury! Simply brush me with your long antennas tip, Or tiptoe lightly over me with your hovering step. Statius, translated by Anthony Howell, from Statius: Silvae, by Bill Shepherd and Anthony Howell, Anvil 2007
Posted on: Sun, 09 Mar 2014 08:02:30 +0000