Poesis Latina A Joseph D. Carroll Scripta
Latin Poetry by Joseph D. Carroll

O Horatii, O Catulle

O Horati, O Catulle,
O Cicero, O Vergili et Ovidi
quo iistis? ubi invenire possum?
certe nec in libris neque in ludis.

Mortuos mi dicunt esse vos,
linguam magnam etiam;
neminibus idoneam in nova orbis terra,
nunc verbos significationem habere

Mihi haec fortiter nego;
10  non ex odio sed propter misericordem.
nam eis magis carmine aut
fabula aut libello desunt.

Bene requiescete, Horati et ali.
brevi tempore e somno excitabunt,
15  operaque tua aestimabuntur
atque eis vitam iterum agetis.

O Horace, O Catullus

O Horace, O Catullus,
O Cicero, O Virgil and Ovid:
Where have you gone to? Where can I find you?
Surely not in the books, not in the schools.

They tell me that you're dead,
your great language too;
suitable for no one in their modern world,
now that your words have no meaning.

As for me, I deny these things strongly;
10  not out of hate, but pity.
For they're missing more than a poem,
more than a story or even a book.

Rest well, Horace and others.
In a short time they will awaken,
15  And they will value your works,
And to them, you will be living once more.

Scripsit Joseph D. Carroll (kramanium@aol.com)
Convertit in XML Marc Moskowitz(marc@suberic.net). Ipse convertrum XML-HTML scripsit.
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