Summer of Horace: Ode 1.9: A Remedy for the Winter Blues

The Latin:
Vides ut alta stet niue candidum
Soracte nec iam sustineant onus
siluae laborantes geluque
flumina constiterint acuto?

Dissolue frigus ligna super foco
large reponens atque benignius
deprome quadrimum Sabina,
o Thaliarche, merum diota.

Permitte diuis cetera, qui simul
strauere uentos aequore feruido
deproeliantis, nec cupressi
nec ueteres agitantur orni.

Quid sit futurum cras, fuge quaerere, et
quem fors dierum cumque dabit, lucro
adpone nec dulcis amores
sperne, puer, neque tu choreas,

donec uirenti canities abest
morosa. Nunc et Campus et areae
lenesque sub noctem susurri
composita repetantur hora,

nunc et latentis proditor intumo 
gratus puellae risus ab angulo
pignusque dereptum lacertis

aut digito male pertinaci.


The Translation:

Do you see that Socrates stands, white with snow

do straining forests hold up this burden,

are the rivers still with bitter ice?

Unfreeze the chilly logs, placing them above

an abundant hearth and more favorably

pour the four-winter vintage

from the worthy Sabine jar, Thaliarce.

Leave other things to the gods, who

as they restrain the belligerent winds

from stormy seas, so they don’t agitate

the cypress, nor the aged ash.

Avoid the question “what will happen tomorrow?”

and assign gain to whatever the daily fortune gives,

do not spurn sweet lovers, boy, nor the dance,

so long as your bloom is free of morose grey hairs.

Now both the playing fields and the arenas

and soft whispers repeated under night

at the appointed hour.

Even now, pleasant laughter betrays

the girl hidden in a secret niche and

and the hostage taken from  the barely

resisting arms with a finger.

This is a theme which Horace seems to like: "Fuck it, we're young. Let's get wasted and make out" (or something like that). I have to say that I am not overly fond of these types of poems, but I suspect that's because I skipped the intermediary period between kid and dour, businesslike old man. Horace also seems to be fascinated with the seasons, and here, like in 1.4 seems to equate the coming of spring to youth. I can't imagine why he would possibly do that. Doesn't seem right. I'm not sure where he was going with the allusion to Socrates at the beginning, but as an admirer of his work, I'm sorely disappointed this poem wasn't about him.