PUBLII OVIDII NASONIS
Fasti


Language: Latin

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Nox ubi transierit, solito celebretur honore,
  Separat indicio qui deus arva suo. 640
Termine, sive lapis, sive es defossus in agro
  Stipes ab antiquis, sic quoque numen habes.
Te duo diversa domini pro parte coronant,
  Binaque serta tibi, binaque liba ferunt.
Ara fit: huc ignem curto fert rustica testu 645
  Sumptum de tepidis ipsa colona focis.
Ligna senex minuit, concisaque construit alte,
  Et solida ramos figere pugnat humo.
Dum sicco primas irritat cortice flammas,
  Stat puer, et manibus lata canistra tenet. 650
Inde, ubi ter fruges medios immisit in ignes,
  Porrigit incisos filia parva favos.
Vina tenent alii: libantur singula flammis.
  Spectant et linguis Candida turba favent.
Spargitur et caeso communis Terminus agno: 655
  Nec queritur, lactens quum sibi porca datur.
Conveniunt celebrantque dapes vicinia supplex,
  Et cantant laudes, Termine sancte, tuas.
Tu populos, urbesque, et regna ingentia finis:
  Omnis erit sine te litigiosus ager. 660
Nulla tibi ambitio est: nullo corrumperis auro:
  Legitima servas credita rura fide:
Si tu signasses olim Thyreatida terram,
  Corpora non leto missa trecenta forent,
Nec foret Othryades congestis lectus in armis. 665
  O quantum patriae sanguinis ille dedit!
Quid, nova quum fierent Capitolia? nempe deorum
  Cuncta Jovi cessit turba, locumque dedit.
Terminus—ut veteres memorant—inventus in aede
  Restitit, et magno cum Jove templa tenet. 670
Nunc quoque, se supra ne quid nisi sidera cernat,
  Exiguum templi tecta foramen habent.
Termine, post illud levitas tibi libera non est,
  Qua positus fueris in statione, mane.
Nec tu vicino quidquam concede roganti, 675
  Ne videare hominem praeposuisse Jovi;
Et seu vomeribus, seu tu pulsabere rastris,
  Clamato, Meus est hic ager, ille tuus.
Est via, quae populum Laurentes ducit in agros,
  Quondam Dardanio regna petita duci. 680
Illac lanigeri pecoris tibi, Termine, fibris
  Sacra videt fieri sextus ab urbe lapis.
Gentibus est aliis tellus data limite certo;
  Romanae spatium est urbis et orbis idem.





Language: English

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Book II: February 23: The Terminalia
 
When night has passed, let the god be celebrated
With customary honour, who separates the fields with his sign.
Terminus, whether a stone or a stump buried in the earth,
You have been a god since ancient times.
You are crowned from either side by two landowners,
Who bring two garlands and two cakes in offering.
An altar’s made: here the farmer’s wife herself
Brings coals from the warm hearth on a broken pot.
The old man cuts wood and piles the logs with skill,
And works at setting branches in the solid earth.
Then he nurses the first flames with dry bark,
While a boy stands by and holds the wide basket.
When he’s thrown grain three times into the fire
The little daughter offers the sliced honeycombs.
Others carry wine: part of each is offered to the flames:
The crowd, dressed in white, watch silently.
Terminus, at the boundary, is sprinkled with lamb’s blood,
And doesn’t grumble when a sucking pig is granted him.
Neighbours gather sincerely, and hold a feast,
And sing your praises, sacred Terminus:
‘You set bounds to peoples, cities, great kingdoms:
Without you every field would be disputed.
You curry no favour: you aren’t bribed with gold,
Guarding the land entrusted to you in good faith.
If you’d once marked the bounds of Thyrean lands,
Three hundred men would not have died,
Nor Othryades’ name be seen on the pile of weapons.
O how he made his fatherland bleed!
What happened when the new Capitol was built?
The whole throng of gods yielded to Jupiter and made room:
But as the ancients tell, Terminus remained in the shrine
Where he was found, and shares the temple with great Jupiter.
Even now there’s a small hole in the temple roof,
So he can see nothing above him but stars.
Since then, Terminus, you’ve not been free to wander:
Stay there, in the place where you’ve been put,
And yield not an inch to your neighbour’s prayers,
Lest you seem to set men above Jupiter:
And whether they beat you with rakes, or ploughshares,
Call out: “This is your field, and that is his!”’
There’s a track that takes people to the Laurentine fields,
The kingdom once sought by Aeneas, the Trojan leader:
The sixth milestone from the City, there, bears witness
To the sacrifice of a sheep’s entrails to you, Terminus.
The lands of other races have fixed boundaries:
The extent of the City of Rome and the world is one.