Horace, Satires I.iv 33-44

omnes hi metuunt versus, odere poetas.
'faenum habet in cornu, longe fuge; dummodo risum
excutiat sibi, non hic cuiquam parcet amico
et quodcumque semel chartis inleverit, omnis
gestiet a furno redeuntis scire lacuque
et pueros et anus.' agedum pauca accipe contra.
primum ego me illorum, dederim quibus esse poetis,
excerpam numero: neque enim concludere versum
dixeris esse satis neque, siqui scribat uti nos
sermoni propiora, putes hunc esse poetam.
ingenium cui sit, cui mens divinior atque os
magna sonaturum, des nominis huius honorem.

They dread our verse and hate the poets. “Flee! 
Far! For there's hay tied to his horns. He won't 
spare any friend to raise a laugh. Whatever 
he scribbles down on paper, everyone 
must know about it.” Listen, let me say 
that first I’d cut my name from lists of poets;
just churning out a verse is not enough.
Someone like me, who writes in common language, 
doesn't deserve it. Give that name to one 
whose soul is honoured song divine of power.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Rashid and Marwen

Image
In the compound where I ‘worked’ until yesterday (affectionately known as the Gulag to its inmates), Rashid is the ‘tea boy’. Aged 25 and from Mombasa, he has a degree, fluent English (he was laughing at the native speaker banter in the tea room) and is obviously as bright as a magpie’s eye. So why is he serving us coffee and wiping the tables for 1500 riyals (£250) a month? Corruption, he sighed; unless you know the right people in Kenya, or pay bribes, it’s impossible to find a job. Marwan picked us up outside the souk on Wednesday evening, driving a Toyota that he was using as an unlicensed taxi (the licensed variety are in short supply in Doha). He wanted 15 riyals for the trip back but we beat him down to 10 and got in. He was from Syria, also with a degree and very good English. His day job? A cook in a Lebanese restaurant for 850 riyals a month. So he borrows a car and drives the streets to augment his income, much of which he sends home, and works 20 hour days. After hearin...
Read more

Décadence Mandchoue

The memoir of Sir Edmund Trelawney Backhouse, 2nd Bt. (Backhouse /bækˈʌs/, which is appropriate) will be published this week , and a cracking good read it looks, even if it is a load of old cobblers. I wouldn't be so sure though. Reading the review I was reminded of my own time in China; if I published a memoir of life in Guangzhou in the mid-noughties no-one would believe it. I could tell of the divorcée who invited me to move in and offered to sweeten the deal by installing a concubine or two. The girlfriend who came over one night with her 17 year old, uninitiated, eager cousin. The unspeakably depraved practices of Mystic Meg from Hiroshima. T he policewoman who, upon discovering the effects of black resin on the male member, ensured that there was always a ready supply on the bedside table. T he millionaire's daughter who drove me to a nightclu b with one hand on the wheel of the Merc and the other not, at every traffic light her head bobbing down for a quick... As I s...
Read more