The music for this podcast was generously provided by Dr. Stefan Hagel.
Cover illustration and voice of Ovid provided by Lu (twitter: @DRScomics, instagram: @dead_romans_society, tumblr: @ovidiana).
Foley sounds for soundscape provided by zapsplat.com.
Hosting, English sections, and editing provided by Margrethe.
Transcript:
Mar: Salve aveque. This is Margrethe from Ovid Daily, for our podcast special: “Evenings with Ovid”. Joining me today from the far-off shores of the Black Sea is the eminent Latin poet Publius Ovidius Naso, (given voice by the excellent Lu), here to continue one of his most moving works: Tristia. Last week, we heard Carmina Prima, where you sent a copy of your work to Rome instead of yourself, in the hopes it would visit the Palatine and her residents, as well as its literary brothers at your home. I found it very moving. Are you ready to share your next installment?
Lu/Ovid: Libenter. En ego - aures praebēte, quaeso, si non vobis gravis est: orior.
Lu/Ovid:
Di maris et caeli—quid enim nisi uota supersunt?—
soluere quassatae parcite membra ratis,
neue, precor, magni subscribite Caesaris irae:
saepe premente deo fert deus alter opem.
Mulciber in Troiam, pro Troia stabat Apollo;
aequa Venus Teucris, Pallas iniqua fuit.
oderat Aenean propior Saturnia Turno;
ille tamen Veneris numine tutus erat.
saepe ferox cautum petiit Neptunus Vlixem;
eripuit patruo saepe Minerua suo.
et nobis aliquod, quamuis distamus ab illis,
quis uetat irato numen adesse deo?
uerba miser frustra non proficientia perdo.
ipsa graues spargunt ora loquentis aquae,
terribilisque Notus iactat mea dicta, precesque
ad quos mittuntur, non sinit ire deos.
ergo idem uenti, ne causa laedar in una,
uelaque nescio quo uotaque nostra ferunt.
me miserum, quanti montes uoluuntur aquarum!
iam iam tacturos sidera summa putes.
quantae diducto subsidunt aequore ualles!
iam iam tacturas Tartara nigra putes.
quocumque aspicio, nihil est, nisi pontus et aer,
fluctibus hic tumidus, nubibus ille minax.
inter utrumque fremunt inmani murmure uenti.
nescit, cui domino pareat, unda maris.
nam modo purpureo uires capit Eurus ab ortu,
nunc Zephyrus sero uespere missus adest,
nunc sicca gelidus Boreas bacchatur ab Arcto,
nunc Notus aduersa proelia fronte gerit.
rector in incerto est nec quid fugiatue petatue
inuenit: ambiguis ars stupet ipsa malis.
scilicet occidimus, nec spes est ulla salutis,
dumque loquor, uultus obruit unda meos.
opprimet hanc animam fluctus, frustraque precanti
ore necaturas accipiemus aquas.
at pia nil aliud quam me dolet exule coniunx:
hoc unum nostri scitque gemitque mali.
nescit in inmenso iactari corpora ponto,
nescit agi uentis, nescit adesse necem.
o bene, quod non sum mecum conscendere passus,
ne mihi mors misero bis patienda foret!
at nunc ut peream, quoniam caret illa periclo,
dimidia certe parte superstes ero.
ei mihi, quam celeri micuerunt nubila flamma!
quantus ab aetherio personat axe fragor!
nec leuius tabulae laterum feriuntur ab undis,
quam graue ballistae moenia pulsat onus.
qui uenit hic fluctus, fluctus supereminet omnes:
posterior nono est undecimoque prior.
nec letum timeo; genus est miserabile leti;
demite naufragium, mors mihi munus erit.
est aliquid, fatoue suo ferroue cadentem
in solida moriens ponere corpus humo,
et mandare suis aliqua et sperare sepulcrum
et non aequoreis piscibus esse cibum.
fingite me dignum tali nece, non ego solus
hic uehor. inmeritos cur mea poena trahit?
pro superi uiridesque dei, quibus aequora curae,
utraque iam uestras sistite turba minas;
quamque dedit uitam mitissima Caesaris ira,
hanc sinite infelix in loca iussa feram.
si quoque, quam merui poena me pendere uultis,
culpa mea est ipso iudice morte minor.
mittere me Stygias si iam uoluisset in undas
Caesar, in hoc uestra non eguisset ope.
est illi nostri non inuidiosa cruoris
copia; quodque dedit, cum uolet, ipse feret.
uos modo, quos certe nullo, puto, crimine laesi,
contenti nostris iam, precor, este malis.
nec tamen, ut cuncti miserum seruare uelitis,
quod periit, saluum iam caput esse potest.
ut mare considat uentisque ferentibus utar,
ut mihi parcatis, non minus exul ero.
non ego diuitias auidus sine fine parandi
latum mutandis mercibus aequor aro,
nec peto, quas quondam petii studiosus, Athenas,
oppida non Asiae, non loca uisa prius;
non ut Alexandri claram delatus in urbem
delicias uideam, Nile iocose, tuas.
quod faciles opto uentos (quis credere possit?)
Sarmatis est tellus, quam mea uela petunt.
obligor, ut tangam Laeui fera litora Ponti;
quodque sit a patria tam fuga tarda, queror.
nescioquo uideam positos ut in orbe Tomitas,
exilem facio per mea uota uiam.
seu me diligitis, tantos conpescite fluctus,
pronaque sint nostrae numina uestra rati;
seu magis odistis, iussae me aduertite terrae:
supplicii pars est in regione mei.
ferte—quid hic facio?—rapidi mea carbasa uenti!
Ausonios fines cur mea uela uolunt?
noluit hoc Caesar: quid, quem fugat ille, tenetis?
aspiciat uultus Pontica terra meos.
et iubet et merui; nec, quae damnauerit ille,
crimina defendi fasque piumque puto.
si tamen acta deos numquam mortalia fallunt,
a culpa facinus scitis abesse mea.
immo ita, si scitis, si me meus abstulit error,
stultaque mens nobis non scelerata fuit,
quod licet et minimis, domui si fauimus illi,
si satis Augusti publica iussa mihi,
hoc duce si dixi felicia saecula, proque
Caesare tura pius Caesaribusque dedi,—
si fuit hic animus nobis, ita parcite diui!
si minus, alta cadens obruat unda caput!
fallor, an incipiunt grauidae uanescere nubes,
uictaque mutati frangitur ira maris?
non casu, uos sed sub condicione uocati,
fallere quos non est, hanc mihi fertis opem.
Mar: Gratias tibi ago, Ovidi. I have here the English translation of our guest’s poem, originally translated by A.L. Wheeler in 1924.
“O gods of sea and sky—for what but prayer is left?—break not the frame of our shattered bark and second not, I implore, the wrath of mighty Caesar! Oft when a god presses hard another god brings succour. Mulciber was opposed to Troy, but in Troy's defence stood Apollo; Venus favoured the Teucrians, Pallas favoured them not. There was hate for Aeneas on the part of Saturnia who stood closely by Turnus; yet that hero was safe through Venus' power. Ofttimes unruly Neptune assailed the wily Ulysses; ofttimes Minerva saved him from her own uncle. And different though I am from them, who forbids a divine power from being of some avail to me against the angry god?
“But, wretch that I am, to no purpose am I wasting profitless words. My very lips as I speak are sprayed by the heavy waves, and dread Notus hurls away my words nor suffers my prayers to reach the gods to whom they are directed. So the same winds, that I be not punished in one way only, are driving—I know not whither—both my sails and my prayers. Wretched me! what vast mountains of water heave themselves aloft! Now, now, you think, they will touch the highest stars. What mighty abysses settle beneath us as the flood yawns apart! Now, now you think they will touch black Tartarus. Wherever I gaze there is naught but sea and air—sea swollen with billows, air athreat with clouds; and between are the hum and roar of the cruel winds. The waves of ocean know not what master to obey. For now Eurus storms mightily from the red east, now Zephyrus comes rushing from the realm of late evening, now Boreas raves from the dry pole-star, now Notus battles with opposing brow. The helmsman is confused nor can he find what to avoid or what to seek; his very skill is numbed by the baffling perils. We are surely lost, there is no hope of safety, and as I speak, the waters overwhelm my face. The billows will crush this life of mine, and with lips that pray in vain I shall drink in the destroying water.
“But my loyal wife grieves for naught save my exile—that is the only ill of mine she knows and bemoans. She knows not that I am buffeted about on the vast sea, knows not that I am harried by the winds, knows not that death is near me. Ah, well it was that I suffered her not to board ship with me, else I, poor wretch, should now be forced to suffer a double death ! But as it is, even though I perish, in her freedom from peril at least I shall half survive. Alas ! what a swift glitter of flame from the clouds ! What a mighty crash roars from the zenith! And no lighter blow falls upon her planks from the billows than the heavy pounding of the balista upon a wall. Here comes a wave that o'ertops them all—the wave after the ninth and before the eleventh. I fear not death; 'tis the form of death that I lament. Save me from shipwreck and death will be a boon. Tis something worth if falling by fate or by the steel one rests in death upon the solid ground, utters some parting words to friends, and looks forward to a tomb—not to be the food of fishes in the sea. Suppose me deserving of such a death, yet I am not here the only passenger. Why does my punishment involve the innocent? O ye gods above and ye of the green flood, who rule the waters,—stay ye now, both hosts of you, your threats. The life that Caesar's merciful wrath has granted, let me carry, unhappy man that I am, to the appointed place. If ye wish to ruin me with a penalty great as I have deserved, my fault even in my judge's eyes merits not death. If ere now Caesar had wished to send me to the waters of the Styx, he had not needed your aid in this. He has a power over my life which ye may not begrudge; and what he has granted he will take away when he shall wish. But ye, whom surely no crime of mine has wronged, be content by now with my woes. And yet, though ye be all willing to save a wretch, that life which is lost cannot now be safe. Even should the sea grow calm and favouring breezes bear me on—even should ye spare me—I shall be not less an exile. Not in greed of limitless wealth do I plough the sea to trade my wares nor am I on my way to Athens as once I was while a student, nor to the cities of Asia, nor the places I have seen before, nor am I sailing to Alexander's famous city to see thy pleasures, merry Nile. The reason of my prayers for favouring winds (who could believe it?) is the Sarmatian land, the object of my voyage. I am constrained to reach the wild shores of ill-omened Pontus, and I complain that my journey into exile from my native land is so slow! That I may see the Tomitans, situate in some corner of the world, I am trying to shorten the road by prayer!
“If it be that you love me, restrain these mighty billows, and let your powers favour my bark; or if you detest me, turn me towards the ordained land; a part of my punishment consists in the place of it. Drive me on, ye swift winds! What have I to do here? Why do my sails crave the Ausonian land? This was not Caesar's will. Why do you detain one whom he drives forth? Let the land of Pontus behold my face. He commands it and I have deserved it; nor do I account it lawful and righteous to defend the sins that he has condemned. Yet if human acts never deceive the gods, ye know that no guilty deed is connected with my fault. Nay, if such your knowledge, if a mistake of mine has carried me away, if stupid was my mind, not criminal, if—as even the humblest may—I have supported that house with favour, if the public commands of Augustus were in my eyes sufficient; if under his lead have sung of a happy age, and for Caesar and the loyal Caesars I have offered incense;—if such has been my spirit, then spare me, gods! If not, may a towering wave fall and whelm my head!
“Am I wrong or do the heavy clouds begin to melt away and is the water of the changing sea being conquered and subdued? It is no chance, but ye, summoned to hear my pledge, ye whom we cannot deceive, are bringing me this succour!”
Mar: Thank you so much for listening, and be sure to tune into Ovid Daily’s “Evenings with Ovid” next week for the next installment of Ovid’s Tristia. Vale beneque placideque quiescas!
Mar: A transcript for this podcast is available at oviddaily.substack.com. Our text comes from the 1924 Loeb Classical Library edition of the Tristia, edited and translated by A.L. Wheeler. Our music is performed by Dr. Stefan Hagel on the Hellenistic Aulos, a link to which is available in the description, and on our website on our “Resources” page. Foley sounds for our soundscape are provided by zapsplat.com. Our lovely cover art was illustrated by Lu, and you can see more of Lu’s art on Twitter @DRScomic, or on Tumblr @ovidiana. If you wish to contact Ovid Daily, you may email me at oviddaily@substack.com.
Tristia 1.2