Kitap 2
grew from his sides, and from his mouth was made
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a blunted beak. Now Cycnus is a swan,
and yet he fears to trust the skies and Jove,
for he remembers fires, unjustly sent,
and therefore shuns the heat that he abhors,
and haunts the spacious lakes and pools and streams
In squalid garb, meanwhile,
and destitute of all his rays, the sire
of Phaethon, as dark as when eclipse bedims
his Wheel, abhors himself and hates the light,
shuns the bright day, gives up his mind to grief,
adds passion to his woe, denies the earth
his countenance, and thus laments; “My lot
was ever restless from the dawn of time,
and I am weary of this labour, void
and endless. Therefore, let who will urge forth
my car, light-bearing, and if none may dare,
when all the Gods of Heaven acknowledge it,
let Jove himself essay the task. Perchance,
when he takes up the reins, he may forget
his dreadful lightning that bereaves of child
a father's love; and as he tries the strength
of those flame-footed steeds will know, in truth,
the lad who failed to guide my chariot
encircle Phoebus as he makes complaint,
and with their supplications they entreat
him not to plunge the world in darkness. Jove
would find excuses for the lightning-bolt,
hurled from his hand, and adds imperious threats
to his entreaties. Phoebus calls his steeds,
frenzied with their maddening fires, and
their fury, as he vents with stinging lash
his rage upon them, and in passion lays
on them the death of Phaethon his son.
Now after Phaethon had suffered death
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for the vast ruin wrought by scorching flames,
