Ode 1.9 - To Thaliarchus in Winter
See how Soracte shines in the height of snowfall,
See how the toiling forests can hardly bear
their cold loads, how the streams stand frozen,
stilled with sharp ice in bewintering air.
Thaw off this cold. Throw logs on the hearth in warm
welcome, and be more generous with the pure
wine drawn from that old Sabine cask,
dear Thaliarchus, good host and sure
friend. Let the gods take care of the rest. Once they've
brought all the winds that brawl on the boiling sea
to heel, then nothing shakes the ancient
alder and beautiful cypress tree.
Ask not of what tomorrow will bring. Each day
fortune allows you, count as a blessed gain.
Young man, enjoy the sweet delights of
loving and dancing. Do not abstain
while your green youth is free of old peevish gray.
Now is the time for Campus and plaza too,
for nights of sighs and whispered nothings
when you and her keep a rendezvous,
Time for the lovely laugh from a secret corner
giving away the girl where she hides at last,
for the love-bracelet from a hand whose
fingers pretend to resist your grasp.