11 August 2009

More than five days

Five days I told you at my farm I’d stay,
And lo! the whole of August I’m away.
Well but, Maecenas, you would have me live,
And, were I sick, my absence you’d forgive.
So let me crave indulgence for the fear
Of falling ill at this bad time of year.
When, thanks to early figs and sultry heat,
The undertaker figures with his suite;
When fathers all and fond mammas grow pale
At what may happen to their young heirs male,
And courts and levees, town-bred mortals’ ills,
Bring fevers on, and break the seals of wills.

Q. Horatius Flaccus, Epistulae VII. Trans. John Conington

Well, not away the whole month of August, but certainly blogging on summer hours and I will in fact be gone all of next week. Sultry heat and early figs are as insupportable in this Capital as they were in Horace's.

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