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İngilizce İngilizce Latince

Şiir 64

In the meantime with shaking bodies and infirm gesture the Parcae began to intone their truth-naming chant. Their trembling frames were enwrapped around with white garments, encircled with a purple border at their heels, snowy fillets bound each aged brow, 305

and their hands pursued their never-ending toil, as of custom. The left hand bore the distaff enwrapped in soft wool, the right hand lightly withdrawing the threads with upturned fingers shaped them, then twisting them with the prone thumb it turned the balanced spindle with well-polished whirl. 310

And then with a pluck of their tooth the work was always made even, and the bitten wool-shreds adhered to their dried lips, which shreds at first had stood out from the fine thread. And in front of their feet wicker baskets of osier twigs took charge of the soft white woolly fleece. 315

These, with clear-sounding voice, as they combed out the wool, out-poured fates of such kind in sacred song, in song which no age yet to come could tax with untruth. O with great virtues augmenting your exceeding honour, mainstay of Emathia, most famous in your issue, 320

receive what the sisters make known to you on this happy day, a truth-naming oracle! But run, you spindles, drawing the thread which the fates follow, run, spindles! Now Hesperus will come to you bearing what is longed for by bridegrooms, with that fortunate star will your bride come, 325

who steeps your soul with the sway of softening love, and prepares with you to conjoin in languorous slumber, spreading her smooth arms beneath your sinewy neck. Run, drawing the thread, run, spindles! No house ever yet enclosed such loves, 330

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Şiir 64

Şifre Yenileme