Curat Quotes
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Nemo quam bene vivat sed quam diu curat, cum omnibus possit contingere ut bene vivant, ut diu nulli.
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More Curat Quotes
Insanam vatem aspicies, quae rupe sub ima Fata canit foliisque notas et nomina mandat. Quaecumque in foliis descripsit carmina virgo Digerit in numerum atque antro seclusa relinquit: Illa manent immota locis neque ab ordine cedunt. Verum eadem, verso tenuis cum cardine ventus Impulit et teneras turbavit ianua frondes, Numquam deinde cavo volitantia prendere saxo nec revocare situs aut iungere carmina curat: Inconsulti abeunt sedemque odere Sibyllae.
virgil— The mad prophetic Sibyl you shall find,
Dark in a cave, and on a rock reclin'd.
She sings the fates, and, in her frantic fits,
The notes and names, inscrib'd, to leafs commits.
What she commits to leafs, in order laid,
Before the cavern's entrance are display'd:
Unmov'd they lie; but, if a blast of wind
Without, or vapors issue from behind,
The leafs are borne aloft in liquid air,
And she resumes no more her museful care,
Nor gathers from the rocks her scatter'd verse,
Nor sets in order what the winds disperse.
Thus, many not succeeding, most upbraid
The madness of the visionary maid,
And with loud curses leave the mystic shade.Lines 443–452 (translated by John Dryden)
Insanam vatem aspicies, quae rupe sub ima Fata canit foliisque notas et nomina mandat. Quaecumque in foliis descripsit carmina virgo Digerit in numerum atque antro seclusa relinquit: Illa manent immota locis neque ab ordine cedunt. Verum eadem, verso tenuis cum cardine ventus Impulit et teneras turbavit ianua frondes, Numquam deinde cavo volitantia prendere saxo nec revocare situs aut iungere carmina curat: Inconsulti abeunt sedemque odere Sibyllae.
— The mad prophetic Sibyl you shall find,
Dark in a cave, and on a rock reclin'd.
She sings the fates, and, in her frantic fits,
The notes and names, inscrib'd, to leafs commits.
What she commits to leafs, in order laid,
Before the cavern's entrance are display'd:
Unmov'd they lie; but, if a blast of wind
Without, or vapors issue from behind,
The leafs are borne aloft in liquid air,
And she resumes no more her museful care,
Nor gathers from the rocks her scatter'd verse,
Nor sets in order what the winds disperse.
Thus, many not succeeding, most upbraid
The madness of the visionary maid,
And with loud curses leave the mystic shade.
— Lines 443–452 (translated by John Dryden)
