Alpheios:Sextus Propertius, Elegies (2)

Quid iuvat ornato procedere, vita, capillo

et tenuis Coa veste movere sinus,

aut quid Orontea crinis perfundere murra,

teque teque peregrinis vendere muneribus,

naturaeque naturaeque decus mercato perdere cultu,

nec nec sinere in propriis membra nitere bonis?

crede mihi, non ulla tuae est medicina figurae:

nudus Amor formae non amat artificem.

aspice quos summittat humus formosa colores,

ut veniant hederae sponte sua melius,

surgat et in solis formosius arbutus antris,

et sciat indocilis currere lympha vias.

litora nativis praefulgent picta lapillis,

et volucres nulla dulcius arte canunt.

non sic Leucippis succendit Castora Phoebe,

Pollucem cultu non Hilaira soror;

non, Idae et cupido quondam discordia Phoebo,

Eveni patriis filia litoribus;

nec nec Phrygium falso traxit candore maritum

avecta externis Hippodamia rotis:

sed facies aderat nullis obnoxia gemmis,

qualis Apelleis est color in tabulis.

non illis studium vulgo conquirere amantis:

illis ampla satis forma pudicitia.

non ego nunc vereor ne sim tibi vilior istis:

uni si qua placet, culta puella sat est;

cum tibi praesertim Phoebus sua carmina donet

Aoniamque Aoniamque libens Calliopea lyram,

unica nec nec desit iucundis gratia verbis,

omnia quaeque Venus, quaeque Minerva probat.

his tu semper eris nostrae gratissima vitae,

taedia dum miserae sint tibi luxuriae.

                              Why 
                              delight, my 
                              life, in 
                              walking 
                              delicately 
                              with 
                              hair 
                              elaborately 
                              decked, and 
                              in 
                              fluttering 
                              the 
                              transparent 
                              folds 
                              of 
                              a 
                              Coan 
                              vesture ? Why 
                              drench 
                              your 
                              hair 
                              with 
                              Syrian 
                              myrrh ? Why 
                              set 
                              yourself 
                              off 
                              by 
                              artificial 
                              means, to 
                              spoil 
                              the 
                              grace 
                              of 
                              nature 
                              by 
                              purchased 
                              adornment, and 
            not 
                              suffer 
                              your 
                              limbs 
                              to 
                              shine 
                              in 
                              their 
                              own 
                              loveliness.
         

                              Believe 
                              me, there 
                              is 
                              no 
                              improving 
                              beauty 
                              like 
                              yours 
                              by 
                              adventitious 
                              aid :
         

                              genuine 
                              Love 
                              likes 
                              not 
                              a 
                              disguised 
                              form.
         

                              See 
                              what 
                              beauteous 
                              hues 
                              the 
                              earth 
                              produces ; how 
                              ivy 
                              grows 
                              better 
                              at 
                              its 
                              own 
                              free 
                              will ; how 
                              the 
                              arbutus 
                              springs 
                              more 
                              fairly 
                              in 
                              solitary 
                              clefts 
                              of 
                              the 
                              rock ; how 
                              the 
                              stream 
            runs 
                              in 
                              channels 
                              never 
                              formed 
                              by 
                              art ;
         

                              how 
                              the 
                              shore 
                              produces, of 
                              its 
                              own 
                              accord, pebbles 
                              of 
                              varied 
                              hue, the 
                              growth 
                              of 
                              itself ; and 
                              how 
                              birds 
                              sing 
                              not 
                              the 
                              more 
                              sweetly 
                              by 
                              any 
                              art.
         

                              Not 
                              in 
                              that 
                              way 
                              did 
                              Phoebe, the 
                              daughter 
                              of 
                              Leucippus, set 
                              Castor's 
                              heart 
                              on 
                              fire ; nor 
                              did 
                              her 
                              sister, Hilaira, make 
                              Pollux 
                              in 
                              love 
                              with 
                              her 
                              by 
                              her 
                              dress.
         

                              Not 
                              so, in 
                              days 
                              of 
                              yore, did 
                              the 
                              daugher 
                              of 
                              Evenus, on 
                              the 
                              banks 
                              of 
                              her 
                              father's 
                              stream, become 
                              the 
                              subject 
                              of 
                              strife 
                              between 
                              Idas 
                              and 
                              the 
                              amorous 
                              Phoebus :
         

            nor 
                              did 
                              Hippodamia, that 
                              was 
                              carried 
                              off 
                              in 
                              the 
                              chariot 
                              of 
                              a 
                              stranger, attract 
                              her 
                              Phrygian 
                              husband 
                              by 
                              artificial 
                              beauty ;
         

                              but 
                              she 
                              had 
                              a 
                              face 
                              indebted 
                              to 
                              no 
                              gems, and 
                              a 
                              skin 
                              like 
                              that 
                              seen 
                              on 
                              the 
                              canvas 
                              of 
                              Apelles.
         

                              Their 
                              aim 
                              was 
                              not 
                              to 
                              get 
                              lovers 
                              from 
                              every 
                              quarter :
         

                              modesty, beauty 
                              enough 
                              in 
                              itself, was 
                              theirs.
         

                              I 
                              fear 
                              not 
                              now 
                              lest 
                              you 
                              appear 
                              to 
                              me 
                              less 
                              worthy 
                              than 
                              these, --
         

                              if 
                              she 
                              please 
                              one 
                              man 
                              a 
                              girl 
                              is 
                              sufficiently 
                              adorned, --
         

                              since 
                              Phoebus 
                              favours 
                              you 
                              especially 
                              with 
                              his 
                              gift 
                              of 
                              song, and 
                              Calliope 
                              willingly 
                              adds 
                              the 
                              Aonian 
                              lyre ; a 
                              surpassing 
                              sweetness 
                              is 
            not 
                              wanting 
                              in 
                              your 
                              language, and 
                              you 
                              have 
                              everything 
                              that 
                              Venus 
                              or 
                              Minerva 
                              loves.
         

                              With 
                              these 
                              gifts 
                              you 
                              shall 
                              always 
                              be 
                              most 
                              pleasing 
            to 
            me, provided 
                              that 
                              you 
            despise 
                              paltry 
                              gauds.
         