As classics professor Mary Jaeger points out, when it comes to translation “every generation finds something new.” In other words, the translation of a text is informed by the sensibility of the times. For instance, says Jaeger, modern translations are much more explicit than older ones. “There are a lot of risqué passages in ancient texts that weren’t translated into English until we went through the great sexual revolution of the ’60s and ’70s,” she explains.
At the same time, English keeps changing, which means that words—and by implication, concepts—used in a translation a century or two ago might not be used today. As an example, we offer several translations of Ode 1.38 by Horace, a Roman who lived between 85 and 6 BCE.
ODE 1.38
Horace
Persicos odi, puer, apparatus;
displicent nexae philyra coronae;
mitte sectari rosa quo locorum
sera moretur.
Simplici myrto nihil allabores
sedulus curo: neque te ministrum
dedecet myrtus neque me sub arta
vite bibentem.
Christopher Smart, English poet (1722–71)
Persian pomps, boy, ever I renounce them:
Scoff o’ the plaited coronet’s refulgence;
Seek not in fruitless vigilance the rose-tree’s Tardier offspring.
Mere honest myrtle that alone is order’d,
Me the mere myrtle decorates, as also
Thee the prompt waiter to a jolly toper
Hous’d in an arbour.
William Ewart Gladstone, British Prime Minister (1809–98)
Off with Persian gear, I hate it,
Hate the wreaths with limebark bound.
Care not where the latest roses
Linger on the ground: Bring me myrtle, nought but myrtle!
Myrtle, boy, will well combine
Thee attending, me carousing
‘Neath the trellised vine.
Eugene Field, American poet and journalist (1850–95)
Boy, I detest the Persian pomp;
I hate those linden-bark devices;
And as for roses, holy Moses!
They can’t be got at living prices!
Myrtle is good enough for us—
For you, as bearer of my flagon;
For me, supine beneath this vine,
Doing my best to get a jag on!