You are avoiding me, Chloe
like a young fawn,
searching for its quaking mother on untrodden mountains, in empty fear
of winds and trees.
For whether the arrival of spring quivers in the rustling leaves,
or green lizards scamper away, the deer trembles
in both the heart and the knees.
And yet, I do not pursue you to crush you,
like the violent tiger or the Gaetulian lion:
Enough. You're old enough for a man, come along without your mother.
In this charming little poem, Horace teases a timid young courtesan. 'What are you scared of?' he asks. 'You're a big girl now. Stop running crying to your mother.' The picture in the second stanza of the little fawn whose long legs tremble as a breeze rustles the leaves or lizards dart among the bushes is particularly fascinating.
like a young fawn,
searching for its quaking mother on untrodden mountains, in empty fear
of winds and trees.
For whether the arrival of spring quivers in the rustling leaves,
or green lizards scamper away, the deer trembles
in both the heart and the knees.
And yet, I do not pursue you to crush you,
like the violent tiger or the Gaetulian lion:
Enough. You're old enough for a man, come along without your mother.
In this charming little poem, Horace teases a timid young courtesan. 'What are you scared of?' he asks. 'You're a big girl now. Stop running crying to your mother.' The picture in the second stanza of the little fawn whose long legs tremble as a breeze rustles the leaves or lizards dart among the bushes is particularly fascinating.
