Gratum parenti sit tibi Cinthio
Cantus patrono quod datur annuo
Gaudere festo barbitoque
Et solito celebrare plausu.
O grate nostro Julie numini
Musisque, salve, quem proprio petit
Curru deus, quo teste risus
Explicuisse solet quotannes.
Cuius calendis Cinthius aureo
Laetus comarum cingitur ordine,
Indutus et vultus nitentes,
Te cythara fidibusque sacrat.
Sed ponit aurum flebilibus modis
Plangis ademptum, tristia lugubris
Tormenta passurus Decembris
Et miserae mala longa noctis.
May it be pleasing to your father Apollo,
patron of song, that it is granted to us to delight
in our annual festival, and in the lyre,
and celebrate it with our customary applause.
Hail July, delightful to our god
and to the Muses; the god comes to you
in his own chariot, and in your presence he is accustomed
to give full scope to his yearly laughter.
On your Calends (July 1) Apollo joyfully
assumes his golden coiffure,
and, donning likewise his shining face,
he consecrates you with the lyre and strings.
But he lays aside his gold, bewailing
its casting-off in mournful music, when about to undergo
the grim torments of sad December
and the long troubles of unhappy darkness.
[Return to top of page]