1. The tribes are stirred with verse to exaltation,
And in speech their glories are preserved from loss,

2. Each youth's cares are soothed by the balm of poesy,
And he writes what greed and ambition dictate.

3. My verse is treasured in men's hearts for its charm,
And eyes and ears vie for it beyond all else.

4. Most fit for it is one staunch and prudent, as thou,
Who guards its gems and confronts detractors bold.

5. From each ode of mine thou'lt gain inspiration,
As nightly the eternal stars rise in their courses,

6. Their lines give light beyond the homes they illume,
As lamps held up by slim and cloaked bearers.

7. When the rattle stirs them, the Pleiades take wing,
And rouse the languorous sleepers in their beds.

8. Others are blind to meanings that shine brightly,
As vision contracts when lightning rends the glooms.

9. Nor does each praised one relish his eulogy,
Some proud necks disdain the yoke they cannot endure.