To the same person. (359/60)
I am inclined to believe that your affairs are not too pressing, since you seem to have plenty of leisure for letter-writing. The beauty of your letter, at any rate, is that of a man composing literature, not a governor touring his cities.
But if that is wrong and you are in fact overwhelmed with business yet still manage both -- then one of the Muses seems to have taken up residence with you alongside Justice, each lending a hand in turn.
If you are looking for either the arrow of Abaris [a legendary Hyperborean sage said to fly on an arrow] or the lyre of Orpheus, do not seek the lyre -- your tongue already has its power -- and do not seek the arrow either, since you already have the lyre.
Poverty is universal now, so you are not writing to a rich man on behalf of the poor. Even if you governed us, you would lament the same thing. As the comic poet put it: "A curse on you, War, for many reasons -- you who so quickly turn the Calliases into Iruses." [A reference to Aristophanes: Callias was proverbially wealthy, Irus proverbially poor]
**To the same correspondent.** (359/60)
I am persuaded that your affairs are not many, for otherwise you would not have enjoyed such ample leisure for letter-writing — since the beauty of your letter is that not of a governor making his rounds of the cities, but of a man devoted to the craft of eloquence.
But if that presumption is false and your affairs are indeed many, then you are equal to both. One of the Muses, it seems, dwells with you alongside Justice, and lends her aid now to the one, now to the other.
And though you seek either the arrow of Abaris or the lyre of Orpheus — do not seek the lyre, for with your tongue you wield all its power; nor the arrow, since you already possess the lyre.
Poverty is now the common lot of mankind, so that you are not writing on behalf of the destitute to men of wealth. Even if you governed us, you would lament the same things:
*"A curse on you, O War, for many reasons — you who so swiftly turn our Calliases into Iruses."*
I am inclined to believe that your affairs are not too pressing, since you seem to have plenty of leisure for letter-writing. The beauty of your letter, at any rate, is that of a man composing literature, not a governor touring his cities.
But if that is wrong and you are in fact overwhelmed with business yet still manage both -- then one of the Muses seems to have taken up residence with you alongside Justice, each lending a hand in turn.
If you are looking for either the arrow of Abaris [a legendary Hyperborean sage said to fly on an arrow] or the lyre of Orpheus, do not seek the lyre -- your tongue already has its power -- and do not seek the arrow either, since you already have the lyre.
Poverty is universal now, so you are not writing to a rich man on behalf of the poor. Even if you governed us, you would lament the same thing. As the comic poet put it: "A curse on you, War, for many reasons -- you who so quickly turn the Calliases into Iruses." [A reference to Aristophanes: Callias was proverbially wealthy, Irus proverbially poor]
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.