Standing by my bed
in gold sandals
Dawn that very
moment awoke me

It is the Muses
who have caused me
to be honred: they
taught me their craft

In the spring twilight
the full moon is shining:
Girls take their places
as though around an altar

I took my lyre and said:
Come now, my heavenly
tortoise shell: become
a speaking instrument

I have no complaint
prosperity that
the golden Muses
gave me was no
delusion: dead, I
won't be forgotten

Before they were mothers
Leto and Niobe
had been the most
devoted of friends

Although they are
only breath, words
which I command
are immortal

Amid earth's vagrant noises, he caught the note sublime:
To-day around him surges from the silences of Time
A flood of nobler music, like a river deep and broad,
Fit song for heroes gathered in the banquet-hall of God.

Facundis dedit ille notis, interprete plumas
Insinuare sonos oculis, & pingere voces,
Et mentem chartis, oculis impertiit aurem.

Consurgit Luparae Dum non imitabile culmen,
Escuriale ingens uritur in vidia.