Odes 2.13

Curse you, tree!

by Horace

Horace’s near miss with a falling tree is a central feature of autobiography in his work. The abuse he piles on it and the man who planted it, and the Hades scene in the latter part of the poem, both are semi-comic, but both also have a serious point to make as well. He took the threat of the tree seriously enough to celebrate the anniversary of his lucky escape every year, while the Hades passage gives him an opportunity to doff his hat to two of his models and heroes, Greek lyric poets of five hundred years before: Sappho, who needs no introduction; and Alcaeus, poet, warrior and deposer of tyrants, and originator of the Alcaic metre that Horace uses in this and many other odes. In between the two episodes, Horace muses on the point, as true now as it was then, that you can be as careful as you like about the dangers implicit in your way of life, but it may be something unforeseen that gets you in the end.

The motif of Hell’s prisoners and their jailers stopped in their eternal tracks by the beauty of song was used by Virgil in his treatment of the Orpheus myth in the fourth book of his Georgics, in a passage which provided a model for Horace here and elsewhere in the Odes, and also, no doubt among others, for his younger contemporary Ovid in the Metamorphoses and, in a moving passage written by the poet under sentence of death, by Boethius in the sixth century.

Metre: Alcaics.

See the illustrated blog post here.

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Ille et nefasto te posuit die
quicumque primum, et sacrilega manu
produxit, arbos, in nepotum
perniciem opprobriumque pagi;

illum et parentis crediderim sui
fregisse cervicem et penetralia
sparsisse nocturno cruore
hospitis; ille venena Colcha

et quidquid usquam concipitur nefas
tractavit, agro qui statuit meo
te, triste lignum, te, caducum
in domini caput inmerentis

quid quisque vitet, numquam homini satis
cautum est in horas: navita Bosporum
Poenus perhorrescit neque ultra
caeca timet aliunde fata,

miles sagittas et celerem fugam
Parthi, catenas Parthus et Italum
robur; sed inprovisa leti
vis rapuit rapietque gentis.

quam paene furvae regna Proserpinae
et iudicantem vidimus Aeacum
sedesque discriptas piorum et
Aeoliis fidibus querentem

Sappho puellis de popularibus
et te sonantem plenius aureo,
Alcaee, plectro dura navis,
dura fugae mala, dura belli.

utrumque sacro digna silentio
mirantur umbrae dicere, sed magis
pugnas et exactos tyrannos
densum umeris bibit aure volgus.

quid mirum, ubi illis carminibus stupens
demittit atras belua centiceps
auris et intorti capillis
Eumenidum recreantur angues?

quin et Prometheus et Pelopis parens
dulci laborem decipitur sono
nec curat Orion leones
aut timidos agitare lyncas.

Whoever it was that first planted you, he did it on an inauspicious day, and reared you with a sacrilegious hand, tree, for the destruction of his descendants and the shame of his village. I could believe that he had strangled his parents and spattered the inmost chambers of his house at night with the blood of a guest; he dealt in the same poisons that Medea used, and whatever the worst crimes conceivable may be, he committed them, the man who in my field set you, you ruinous lump of timber, one day to fall on your undeserving master’s head. What danger each man needs to avoid is never well enough foreseen from hour to hour – a Phoenician sailor shudders at the thought of the [stormy] Bosphorus, but otherwise does not fear dangers of which he is unaware: for a soldier, it is the Parthian’s arrows and swift withdrawal; for the Parthian, it is chains and the fighting mettle of the Italians, but death in unexpected forms has done for both in the past, and will again. How close I came to seeing the realm of deathly-dark Proserpina, Aeacus delivering judgement, the demesne set aside for the pious, and Sappho lamenting her disappointed love for the girls of Lesbos to her Aeolian music! And you, Alcaeus, sounding more amply with your golden plectrum on your lyre the heavy, heavy hardships of shipboard, of exile, the hardships of war! The shades are entranced at both as they sing songs well worthy of reverent silence, but the crowd, packed shoulder-to-shoulder, drinks in more [Alcaeus’s] tales of battle and the expulsion of tyrants. Is it surprising, when Cerberus the hundred-headed beast, lulled by those songs, lays his dark ears flat, and the serpents of the Furies’ hair unwind and take a break from writhing? Even Prometheus and Tantalus are beguiled in their labour by the sweetness of the sound, and Orion the hunter cannot be bothered to chase the lions or the timid lynxes.

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More Poems by Horace

  1. Here’s to Murena!
  2. What Roman youth should be
  3. Horace returns to lyric poetry
  4. Fortuna
  5. The final ode
  6. A plea for burial
  7. A day off for rain
  8. The consolations of wine
  9. Housman and Horace
  10. Be your age, Chloris!
  11. A Prayer to the poetry-God
  12. The country is best
  13. Nereus prophesies the Trojan War
  14. Valgius and Mystes
  15. Horace, the wolf and the upright life
  16. The pleasures and dangers of wine
  17. Last love
  18. Tibur or Tarentum: a poet’s dilemma?
  19. Jealousy
  20. Glycera
  21. Gathering rosebuds: carpe diem
  22. Luxury versus the simple life
  23. Awe for the Gods
  24. O Fons Bandusiae
  25. Horace’s limitations
  26. Rome: disaster and salvation
  27. Lydia’s tragedy
  28. Lovely mother, lovelier daughter
  29. Locked out
  30. A garland from the Muses
  31. Stormy seas
  32. Pollio’s histories of civil war
  33. Carpe diem, Sestius
  34. Don’t trust Barine
  35. A prayer to Mercury
  36. Courage and decadence: the Regulus ode
  37. Unrequited love
  38. Gyges’s constancy
  39. Horace’s reverence to Bacchus
  40. The lust for money versus the simple life
  41. Poscimur
  42. Mourning for a good man
  43. Diana and Apollo: a hymn
  44. Romulus becomes a God
  45. An invitation to Maecenas
  46. Celebrating Neptune’s feast day
  47. Roman values for the new age
  48. Love a slave-girl? Oh, Xanthias!
  49. The tug-of-war for Nearchus
  50. New temples, new morals
  51. Horace the peacemaker
  52. Licymnia
  53. Horace’s monument
  54. Some advice for Dellius
  55. Horace’s wine
  56. Caesar’s safe return
  57. Horace the swan
  58. Augustus, master of the world
  59. Horace welcomes his army comrade
  60. Diffugere nives
  61. Love lost and found
  62. A prayer to Venus
  63. Romulus in Heaven
  64. The fleeting years slip by
  65. Pyrrha
  66. Horace’s Cleopatra ode
  67. Horace rests from his labours
  68. Horace’s Chloe
  69. Pindar and Augustus
  70. An oath to Maecenas
  71. Relief from care
  72. Wealth should be used, not hoarded
  73. Lalage is too young
  74. Jupiter’s authority, and Caesar’s
  75. Neobule
  76. Numida’s back
  77. Iccius goes soldiering
  78. A Farewell to arms
  79. The Golden Mean
  80. Soracte
  81. Horace’s first Ode
  82. A change of mind
  83. An invocation to the lyre
  84. Don’t worry, be happy
  85. Postumus, the years slip by
  86. Give me comfort, not riches
  87. Horace’s prayer to a wine-jar
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