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Thestylis et rapido fessis messoribus aestu
allia serpullumque herbas contundit olentes:
at me cum raucis, tua dum fastigia lustro
sole sub ardenti, resonant arbusta cicadis.

Nonne fuit satius tristes Amaryllidis iras
atque superbia pati fastidia? nonne Menalcan,
quamvis ille niger, quamvis tu candidus esses?
O formose puer, nimium ne crede colori;
alba ligustra cadunt, vaccinia nigra leguntur.

Despectus tibi sum, nec qui sim quaeris, Alexi,
quam dives pecoris nivei, quam lactis abundans.
mille meae Siculis errant in montibus agnae;
lac mihi non aestate novum, non frigore defit;
canto quae solitus, siquando armenta vocabat,
Amphion Dircaeus in Actaeo Aracintho.

nec sum adeo informis: nuper me in litore vidi
cum placidum ventis staret mare; non ego Daphnim,
judice te, metuam si numquam fallit imago.

And Thestyl pounds together pungent herbs,
Garlic and thyme, for those who sow the lands,
Exhausted as they are with fervid zeal:
But while I trace thy marks 'neath ardent sun,
Groves with hoarse crickets often call to me.

Has there not been enough and more of time
To let the pensive troubles and proud qualms
Of Amaryllis into being come?

To let Menalcas also bear his share

(Black though he be, and white as sunlight Thou)?
Trust not o'er-much to color, gracious Child;
White privets fall, black hyacinths are saved.
Am I an object of contempt to Thee,

You ask, Alexis, and not who I am,

How rich in white-fleeced flocks, how rich in milk.
My lambs in thousands roam Sicilian mounts;
Summer or winter there's new milk for me;

What Dirce's Amphion sang when herds he called
On Acte's Aracynthus-that I sing.

Nor am I so bereft of grace: of late

I viewed me on the shore when, free from winds,

The ocean's waters like a mirror stood;

If what's reflected ne'er deceives, then I

May fear not for the crown, with Thee as judge.

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O tantum libeat mecum tibi sordida rura
atque humiles habitare casas, et figere cervos,
haedorumque gregem viridi compellere hibisco
mecum una. In silvis imitabere Pana canendo:
Pan primum calamos cera conjungere plures
instituit; Pan curat oves oviumque magistros:
nec te paeniteat calamo trivisse labellum.
haec eadem ut sciret, quid non faciebat Amyntas?
Est mihi disparibus septem compacta cicutis
fistula, Damoetas dono mihi quam dedit olim
et dixit moriens, te nunc habet ista secundum:
dixit Damoetas, invidit stultus Amyntas.
praeterea duo nec tuta mihi valle reperti
capreoli, sparsis etiam nunc pellibus albo,
bina die siccant ovis ubera: quos tibi servo.
jam pridem a me illos abducere Thestylis orat,
et faciet, quoniam sordent tibi munera nostra.

Huc ades, o formose puer: tibi lilia plenis
ecce ferunt nymphae calathis; tibi candida nais.
pallentes violas et summa papavera carpens,

O that Thou would'st but occupy with me
Those sordid fields, those humble cottages,
Bring forth the deer to public view, and with
A vigorous wand infold the flocks-and me!
In groves Thou shalt resemble Pan in song:
Pan first taught men to join some reeds with wax;
Pan guards the sheep and masters of the sheep;
And may it prove no source of grief to Thee
To have thy sweet lip chapped upon the rood.
(To know those things what did Amyntas not?)

I have, well-joined with seven various stalks,
A syrinx which Damoetas (I admit

It for myself) once gave, and dying said
"This syrinx claims thee now a second time."
(Damoetas spoke; Amyntas foolish looked.)
Two lambs I also have, found in a vale

(Unsafe to me), their pelts now flecked with white;
The mother's udders, two by two, they drain
Quite dry each day: those same I guard for Thee.
For quite a while is Thestyl craving hard

To take them from me; and succeed she will,

Since gifts of ours to Thee are mean and poor.

Come hither, gracious Child! Behold, the nymphs

Bring hampers filled with lilies unto Thee:
The candid naiad, plucking poppies rare

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