Europa
Translated by David
Ferry
(posted Tuesday, July
16; to be composted Tuesday, July 23)
May bad
people see bad omens everywhere,
The screech
of an owl, the sight of a pregnant dog,
Or a grey
she-wolf running across a field,
Or maybe a
fox that's lately dropped her litter;
Or may they
see a serpent like an arrow
Slither
obliquely across, scaring the horses.
My prayers
will make good omens for good people.
I'll look
to the east and call upon the raven
To sing
good fortune to come to those I fear for,
Before he
has a chance to fly to the west,
To the
standing pools, to prophesy bad weather.
Wherever it
is your heart desires to go,
Go safely
there and be happy, Galatea,
Remembering
with pleasure how we were.
Let no
sinister magpie say you nay
Nor any
wandering crow forbid your journey.
But you can
see the tumult in the sky
When angry
Orion sets. You know how black
The
Adriatic can be, and what can go wrong
Even when
lapyx the favoring West Wind blows.
O rather
may our enemies' wives and children
Experience
the unexpected gales
The South
Wind brings upon them, the roaring of
The
blackening waters, the sound of the pounding surf
Shaking the
beaches. Thus it was for Europa,
Entrusting
the safety of her snow-white body
To the not
to be trusted bull when in the very
Moment of
her departure she was aghast
At the
midnight sea swarming with terrible monsters.
She who had
only a moment before that been
A pupil of
the flowers of the fields
And a
weaver of the garlands of the nymphs,
Now all she
saw in the blackness of the night
Were the
waves of the sea and the faint light of stars.
At last she
found herself upon the shore
Of the
mighty hundred-citied island of Crete
And cried
out to her father, "Father, I,
Who left
behind my name and daughterly duty,
What
madness was it that came over me?
Where am I
now? Where is it I have come from?
One death
alone is too little for such as I--
Am I in my
senses, deploring the deed I did?--
Or didn't I
do it? Was it some empty phantom
That flew
up through the ivory gate of lies?--
Which was
it better to do? To do as I did,
To fly here
through the darkness over the waves--
Or stay
back there in the field, gathering flowers?--
If that
young bull were here before me now
I'd strike
into its hide with avenging steel
And break
the horns I lately hung with flowers.
Shameless I
left the gods of my father's house.
Shameless I
wait for Orcus to take me away.
If there
are any gods who listen to me,
While still
my beauty remains, send me, naked,
Out among
lions, let me be eaten by tigers,
Before
these fresh cheeks wither." "Vilest Europa,"
The voice
of her father says from far away,
"Why do you
put off dying? There is a tree,
An
ash-tree, near, to hand yourself upon
With the
silken sash you luckily brought with you.
Unless,
that is, the jagged rocks that lie
At the
bottom of yonder cliff would please you better,
If that is
so, just give yourself to the wind,
A royal
princess otherwise fated to be
A slave
handmaiden to some savage queen."
Europa
wept. Quite suddenly, there stood Venus,
Heartlessly
laughing and laughing, and with her her son,
With his
bow unstrung, and when Venus had laughed enough
She aid,
"Dry up your tears and quell your rage
When the
bull presents its horns for you to break.
Europa, you
are the bride of Jupiter.
Learn how
to bear your great good fortune, for
A region of
the world is named for you."
