Archpoet Poem II

Fama tuba dante sonum

excitata vox preconum

clamat viris regionum

advenire virum bonum,

patrem pacis et patronum, 5

cui Vienna parat tronum.

multitudo marchionum;

turba strepens istrionum

iam conformat tono tonum.

genus omen balatronum 10

intrat ante diem nonum;

quisque sperat grande donum.

As Fame sounds the trumpet, the voice of the heralds proclaims to the people that the good man is arriving, the father and protector of peace, for whom Vienne prepares a throne. A crowd of nobles (is present); a noisy pack of musicians matches one sound to another. Every kind of entertainer shows up nine days before the Ides, each hoping for a great gift. I carry my head down, like the brother of thieves, guilty, without the ability to reason, lacking sense and speech (See devotional formulae Curtius 407 ff.)

Nomen vatis vel personam

manifeste non exponam;

sed quem fuga fecit Ionam 15

per figuram satis bonam

Ione nomen ei ponam.

I shall not reveal the name or the person of the poet, but shall assume the name of Jonah, he whom flight made Jonah, as a fine allegorical figure. (Curtius 515 ff.)

Lacrimarum fluit rivus

quas effundo fugitivus

intra cetum semivivus, 20

tuus quondam adoptivus;

sed pluralis genitivus

nequam nimis et lascivus

mihi factus est nocivus.

As a fugitive, only half alive in the whale, I, your adopted son, have poured out a river of tears,

but repeated, harmful, lecherous genitiving has done me considerable harm.

Voluptate volens frui25

conparabar brute sui

nec cum sancto sanctus fui.

unde timens iram tui

sicut Ionas dei sui

fugam petens fuga rui. 30

I have willingly enjoyed pleasure, like a brute, nor was I holy with the holy (2 Kings 22,26). As a result, fearing your wrath, like Jonah before his God, seeking flight, I rushed off in flight.

Ionam deprehensum sorte

reum tempestatis orte,

condempnatum a cohorte

mox absorbent ceti porte.

sic et ego dignus morte 35

prave vivens et distorte

cuius carnes sunt absorte

(sed cor manet adhuc forte)

reus tibi vereor te

miserturum mihi forte. 40

When the sudden, fateful storm snatched Jonah, the gates of the whale soon swallowed him, condemned by his companions. And thus I, worthy of death, having lived a depraved, perverse life, whose flesh was devoured, but whose heart remained strong, guilty towards you, fear you who perhaps will have pity on me.

Ecce Ionas tuus plorat,

culpam suam non ignorat,

pro qua cetus eum vorat:

veniam vult et implorat,

ut a peste qua laborat 45

solvas eum quem honorat

tremit colit et adorat.

Lo your Jonah weeps, well aware of his sin, for which the whale ate him. He wants and begs a boon, that you whom he honors, fears, worships and adores may release him from the disease from which he suffers.

Si remittas hunc reatum

et si ceto des mandatum,

cetus cuius os est latum50

more suo dans hiatum

vomet vatem decalvatum

et ad portum destinatum

feret fame tenuatum,

ut sit rursus vates vatum 55

scribens opus tibi gratum.

te divine mentis fatum

ad hoc iussit esse natum,

ut decore probitatum

et exemplis largitatum 60

reparares mundi statum.

If you pardon this criminal, and grant him release from the whale, the whale whose mouth is broad may, as is his custom, open it wide and vomit the shorn poet, and bring the man, made slender by hunger, to his intended port, so that the poet of poets may again write a work to please you. The fate of the divine mind commanded that you be born so that you might improve the state of the world by the seemliness of your judgement, and by your exemplary generosity.

Hunc reatum si remittas,

inter enses et sagittas

tutus ibo quo me mittas,

hederaum ferens vittas. 65

If you pardon the guilty man, then I shall safely pass among swords and arrows wherever you may send me, wearing the garlands of ivy.

Non timebo Ninivitas

neque gentes infronitas;

vincam vita patrum vitas

vitans ea que tu vitas.

poetria inauditas 70

scribam tibi, si me ditas.

I shall not fear the Ninevites, nor the shameless people; I shall surpass the lives of the fathers with my life, avoiding those things that you avoid. I shall write poems never (before) heard, if you enrich me.

Ut iam loquar manifeste;

paupertatis premor peste

stultus ego qui penes te

nummis equis victu veste75

dies omnes duxi feste;

nunc insanus plus Oreste,

male vivens et moleste,

trutannizans inhoneste

omne festum duco meste; 80

res non eget ista teste.

Now I shall speak openly: I am oppressed by the disease of poverty, stupid fool that I am, who once, in your presence, lead a pleasant life every day, with money, horses, food, clothing. Crazier than Orestes now, living badly and uncomfortably, behaving dishonestly, every holiday now is a sad one; many can testify that this is a fact.

Pacis auctor, ultor litis,

esto vati tuo mitis

neque credas imperitis;

genitivis iam sopitis 85

sanctior cum heremeits:

quicquid in me malum scitis

amputabo, si velitis.

ne nos apprehendat sitis,

ero palmes et tu vitis. 90

Author of peace, avenger of wrong, be kind to your poet, and do not believe those who are badly informed; now that my genitiving has been lulled to sleep, I live piously among the hermits. I shall amputate whatever you know in me that is evil. To prevent thirst from getting at us, I shall be the vine and thou the branch (John 15.5; Jesus responding to question from Judas: Ego sum vitis, vos palmites...).

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