Rut. Nam. I, 183-194, 197-204

Translated by Alessandro Bonvini

And the Sun’s divine charioteer had already widened the hours of the night – paller, Libra welcomed him into her sky. We could not but hesitate. «Who dares to brave the swelling sea? ». Sitting in the harbour, we relish our tranquil time – unexpected the delay. Meanwhile, the declining Pleiad rages against the faithless stream and the boisterous season’s wrath is inflamed. It delights to look back, again and again, at the near city, to chase the hills with my ceasing sight. Wherever they lead me, my eyes savor those beloved lands, while they can see – so they think –what they are longing for. Nor does a wisp of smoke give me a trace of that place, which owns the sovereign hills, which owns the head of the world. […] But a more dazzling region of the sky, a placid tract reveals the bright summits on its seven ridges. «Look, sunlight is perpetual there. Terser –they say – is the day which Rome makes for herself». More than once in my dazed ears the Circus’ noise resonates, aroused acclamation reveals packed stands, familiar voices are given back from the air which echoes beat. «Are they reaching us? » «Perhaps it is Love who molds them».