High school never ends lyrics

SPACE HORACE: Horace seen by the Toothing-stone (extracted the ' Lycée') 1799 Extract of the COLLEGE (Course of old and modern literature) by Jean-François of the TOOTHING-STONE (1799). L is only lyric Latin who arrived to us but what can comfort us loss of the others, it is the judgement of Quintilien, which ensures that they did not deserve to be read the greatest praise of Horace, and this praise was confirmed in all times and among all people. Horace seems to join together in him Anacréon and, Pindare.. but it adds to both thébain.. it is less rich than him in figures and in images but its variations are a little less abrupt, its walk is a little less vague, its diction has much more nuances and of softness. Pindare, which always sings the same subjects, always has only one your even. Horace A all. all seem to him natural. Which it takes its quadrant. that, seized of the poetic spirit, it is transported in the council of the gods or on the ruins of Troy, the summit of the Alps or close to Glycère, its voice is always assembled on the subject who inspires it majestic in Olympe, and charming close to a mistress. It does not cost any him more to paint with features sublimes the heart of Caton and Régulus only to paint with features enchanters the caresses of Lycimnie and the coquetteries of Pyrrha. As frankly voluptuous as Anacréon, also faithful apostle of the pleasure, it has the graces of this lyric Greek with much more spirit and of philosophy, like, it has the imagination of Pindare with more morals and thoughts. with the wisdom of its ideas, the precision of its style, the harmony of its worms, the variety of its subjects: if one remembers that this same man made satires full with smoothness, reason and cheerfulness, epistles which contain the best lessons of the civil company, in worms which are engraved themselves in the memory. a poetic Art, which is the code eternal of the good taste, one will be appropriate that Horace is one of the best spirits than nature took pleasure to form. I ventured the translation of some odes of Horace, not undoubtedly that I believe it easy to translate. but Horace has much spirit itself, and the spirit is of all the languages. Let us see it in the heroic kind initially. I chose the Ode with Fortune one will see that a French ode resembles a Latin ode very little (I informed whom I joined the ode, "O diva gratum quae regis Antium", with the preceding one, "Parcus deorum cultor and in frequens", which appears to me to be the beginning for it, and from of to be detached strong evil with matter: there are even editions where they are joined together. The subject of this one was extremely simple: one spoke about a descent in England, that Auguste was to lead itself, and who did not take place. one spoke at the same time about a war against Parthes. calls upon Fortune, and recommends to him Auguste and the Romans. But it starts by being reconciled with the gods, that in its capacity as epicurean it had extremely neglected. It extends then on the attributes from Fortune, and finishes, after having called upon it, by deploring the civil wars and the corruption of the m?urs. Such is the plan of this ode. I risked by translating it to change several times the rate/rhythm, to better return the variety of the tone, and to compensate, when the sentences required a certain extent, for the facility which the Greeks and Latin to span from one stanza to another had. I refused with the gods of the v?ux and the incense. The wise foolish ones that today I condemn. I recognize gods: it is done by it I go. Who, the lightning with the hand, showed himself with the ground I saw in a pure sky stealing the brilliant flash, Which Jupiter of its striking down tank launched. Styx has mugi in its major source of it: Of Ténare three times the doors trembled. Heights of Olympe to the bases of the world. Dictate with the universe irrevocable laws. Fortune, agitating its inconstant wings, Planes of a noisy flight on the head of the kings. The destinies of the states its whim chairs. It only exemption or glory or the affront. with your capacity which is not subjected. You places the human ones with the throne or on the shelf. You mislead happiness, the hope and pride. the poor one requires a fertile harvest of you, And the avid merchant, on the pit of the Présente wave at Fortune, referee of the storms, And a wind requires you which leads it to the port. And the Latin warrior, conqueror of the ground. the subjected East the invisible tyrants, the censer with the hand, bend the knees. You can (and it is fear whose their heart is disturbed), Running up against of their size the shaken column, And raising against them the revolt and the war, the throne where them pride believed to approach the skies. The Hope follows you, more favourable partner, a veil on the face, accompanies your steps, When announcing alarms, Of the all-powerful mortal by the adopted fate. I beseech you in my turn, goddess dreaded: While our warriors will still face Who only pushed back our yoke and our irons. Rome towards the gods raises guilty hands. They are not washed, these execrable fixed prices. They bleed encor, our ashamed wounds. Inceste and the Homicide surround the furnace bridges. Do not import, it is in you, Fortune, to exonerate us. Carry to the extreme caves, where the lightning is forged. In the odious blood of the warriors of Assyrie. Floods of Roman blood that itself poured. (1) England, that the Romans looked like an end of the universe. Some ideas of this ode are borrowed of an ode of Pindare, where he calls upon Fortune: it is the twelfth of the Olympic ones. Girl of Jupiter, pressing Fortune, the councils, the combat, the quarrels of the kings, the race of the vessels on the stormy sea. the sky put on our eyes the seal of ignorance. Our obscure destinies we carry the burden, Of reverse in successes trailed by the hope. Happiness allures us. misfortune overpowers us. But no one cannot bore the night of the future. Such which complains with the gods about his deplorable fate. One can be convinced, by reading this ode, of what I said above of the lyric poet of the Romans, that it seemed to listen to and follow a temporary inspiration, and to paint all that is presented in front of him. One saw all the way which Horace. made: one saw it going up in the skies, to go down in the hells, to fly with Fortune around the thrones and on the seas under a formidable apparatus, and it paints dreadful Nécessité. it gives him then a softer procession, the Hope and Fidelity. it equips it with mourning in the palate of large disgraced: it quickly traces the feasts of Happiness and the escape of the inaccurate guests his goal, which is to recommend Auguste, and his race is finished. Here now two gallant odes. Both are extremely short. in both there are a mixture of softnesses and reproaches, praise and satire, which was always the heart of this species of trade and the bottom of the conversations. Here are many reasons which can make excuse a poor translation. The c?urs fly after you. Your eyes have more softness. If by all the gods of the sky, the gods remain without anger That on us you will launch. It is for you that youth. Fears that his/her son does not engage. Pyrrha, which is the enivré lover of tenderness Which, on a bed of pink, extended close to you, And swears that forever it will live under your law. Which fresh and quiet cave Where this imprudent young person, filled your favours. It is for him that now Pyrrha wants to be beautiful. That your delicate taste raises elegantly And gives birth to one thanks to each movement. For him your light hand assembles with the adventure if it envisaged the tears which it must spread. In this calms perfidious, it is far from expecting. The storm is not far it soon will learn Que pleasant Pyrrha which it has today, was not for a long time with him. That then it will cry its fatal slavery. Foolish which trusts your first reception. For me, time returned to me wise. Those which go, like me, to break with the shelf Which I known by my shipwreck. It is necessary to see what is Horace until in a simple ticket, where it acts of a supper at its mistress: its laughing imagination. Come, leaves these beautiful places, leaves them for Glycère. Its residence is more beautiful, and its softer incense. Carry out with you the child who orders us from all, Which reigns on the world, and even on his mother. Nymphs with the envi pressing itself on your steps, Which without you would not be it. Which flexibility of spirit and style does not need one to pass from these gracious images to the tone of the ode whose beginning, if proud and so imposing, was often quoted like a model of the sublime style. A furious tyrant showing him the torment, raised people dictating the injustice to him, On him remains of the world. There is in Horace approximately about thirty odes gallant or in love which prove all how much this writer had the spirit. They are, the majority of chief-of?uvre finished by the hand of the Graces. Nobody had given him the model of it is not there the manner of Anacréon.: the bottom of these small parts is also prickly in all the languages, and at all them. They are even much more pleasant for us than odes heroic of same author of which bottom us is often too foreign, and whose bold and fast walk can hardly be followed in our language, which proceeds with more timidity, and always wants method and connections. Perhaps let us be us a little thoughtless of the wandering race of the poet, and would find that there is in this species of work too much for imagination, and not enough. Under this point of view, each people have his taste, similar to his character and his language. and it sure that our odes, not being made to be sung, should not resemble the Greek and Latin odes speech in worms, is about as followed, as well dependent as they would be it in prose. I do not say that we should be absolutely blamed. but would not be they likely of a little more enthusiasm and speed that one does not notice any, even in our more beautiful. It is what it will be time to examine when it is a question of lyric modern (*). (*) Among them, the first place belongs, indisputably, with Rousseau. But, by finishing this article, perhaps it is not useless to observe, for the interest of the taste, which wrong do those to him which, writing randomly elementary books, the poetic ones, rhetorics for the use of young people, induce them in error, while quoting, with the support of a famous name, the very bad one towards about which one would have to only speak to show some the defects, well far from bringing them back like authorities. All these compilers which copy the ones accurately the others, and of which numbered is infinite, never miss, in connection with Horace, to transcribe the judgement that in Rousseau carried in. Not less shining, though without spark, only Horace in all kinds excels, Chante the gods, the heroes, drinkers. Stupid Bern authors inept worms, informing Us by gracious precepts. Young students, whose taste cannot be formed yet, put these worms in the memory, because one made them repeat them in their exercises of the college, and believe them good, because they are of Rousseau. It would be necessary on the contrary to show to them all the defects. It is not true that Horace is without sparks it has some of more than one kind, if it is true that one must understand by this word of the projecting features: its odes especially of it are full. It worms of Rousseau would seem to say that the sparks are a defect. but never this word was not taken in bad share. And, though a bad work can have sparks, nothing prevents. To say that a writer such as Horace exalte the favours of Cythérée, it is to express itself in a cold way. The thinnest rimaillor can exalter these favours. but Horace, Chaulieu, Tibulle, while speaking as lovers and poets, feel them and make them feel, and do not exaltent them. Berner the inept worms is a low expression which cannot pass in a serious piece, and the rhyme the inept ones and precepts is of a hardness shocking in a place which should have grace precepts and by sermons is a very moved marotic construction when lessons are given and that a model is quoted. and of the antidotés sermons of joy are of a barbarian jargon which would have to be rejected everywhere. These remarks do not prevent that Rousseau is not, in other works, an excellent versifier. but it is for that even as one should not go to seek what there is worse to place it in didactic books. It is a trap tended to youth, that these books should light [ Scan + OCR starting from digitalization in image mode available on the site of the BNF ]. Eissart ] [ Put on line on the site "HORACE" in July 2004 SPACES ].