Book 5
for on the surface of the waves she showed
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a well-known girdle Proserpine had lost,
by chance had dropped it in that sacred pool;
which when the goddess recognized, at last,
convinced her daughter had been forced from her,
she tore her streaming locks, and frenzied struck
her bosom with her palms. And in her rage,
although she wist not where her daughter was,
she blamed all countries and cried out against
their base ingratitude; and she declared
the world unworthy of the gift of corn:
but Sicily before all other lands,
for there was found the token of her loss.
“For that she broke with savage hand the plows,
which there had turned the soil, and full of wrath
leveled in equal death the peasant and his ox—
both tillers of the soil—and made decree
that land should prove deceptive to the seed,
and rot all planted germs.—That fertile isle,
so noted through the world, becomes a waste;
the corn is blighted in the early blade;
excessive heat, excessive rain destroys;
the winds destroy, the constellations harm;
the greedy birds devour the scattered seeds;
thistles and tares and tough weeds choke the wheat.
“For this the Nymph, Alpheian, raised her head
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above Elean waves; and having first
pushed back her dripping tresses from her brows,
back to her ears, she thus began to speak;
‘O mother of the virgin, sought throughout
the globe! O mother of nutritious fruits!
Let these tremendous labours have an end;
do not increase the violence of thy wrath
against the Earth, devoted to thy sway,
and not deserving blame; for only force
compelled the Earth to open for that wrong.
Think not my supplication is to aid
my native country; hither I am come
an alien: Pisa is my native land,
and Elis gave me birth. Though I sojourn
