Cynthia Ode
1 She's staying! She swore she'll remain! My enemies be damned!We won: she gave in to unrelenting prayers.
Desirous envy can drop its false joys:
Cynthia's mine: she's abandoned going new ways.
She loves me. And with me, she calls Rome paradise.
Without me, she'll see no exotic kingdoms.
On the contrary, she prefers relaxing with me
on a narrow couch, mine on any terms,
to visiting the ancient kingdom of wealthy Hippodamia
and the riches Elis once procured with its horses.
Though he gave her much and promised more,
still she doesn't give in to greed and desert my embrace.
I was able to sway her not with gold, nor with Indian
conches, but with the blandishment of smooth, alluring poetry.
So there are Muses, Apollo does not desert the lover.
Trusting them, I love. Rare Cynthia is mine!
Now I touch the highest stars with the soles of my feet.
Whether day or night, she is mine!
My rival cannot abduct a love so strongly founded.
My old age will know that glory.