Georg. 1.311Quid tempestātēs autumnī et sīdera dīcam,
atque, ubi iam breviorque diēs et mollior aestās,
quae vigilanda virīs.Why should I speak of autumn's storms and stars, and, when the day is now shorter and the summer softer, what men must watch for? Georg. 1.313vel cum ruit imbriferum vēr,
spīcea iam campīs cum messis inhorruit et cum
315frūmenta in viridī stipulā lactentia turgent.or when showery spring rushes down, when the bearded harvest has already bristled in the fields and when the milky corn swells on its green stalk? Georg. 1.316Saepe ego, cum flāvīs messōrem indūceret arvīs
agricola et fragilī iam stringeret hordea culmō,
omnia ventōrum concurrere proelia vīdī,
quae gravidam lātē segetem ab rādīcibus īmīs
320sublīmem expulsam ēruerent;Often, when the farmer was bringing the reaper into his golden fields and was already stripping the barley on its brittle stalk, I have seen all the battles of the winds clash together, to tear up the heavy crop far and wide from its deepest roots, flung up on high; Georg. 1.320ita turbine nigrō
ferret hiems culmumque levem stipulāsque volantīs.so would the storm with its black whirlwind carry off the light stalk and the flying stubble.
Georg. 1.322Saepe etiam inmēnsum caelō venit agmen aquārum
et foedam glomerant tempestātem imbribus ātrīs
collēctae ex altō nūbēs;Often too a vast column of waters comes in the sky, and clouds gathered from the deep roll together a foul storm with black rains; Georg. 1.324ruit arduus aethēr
325et pluviā ingentī sata laeta boumque labōrēs
dīluit;the steep sky rushes down and with mighty rain washes away the glad crops and the labours of oxen; Georg. 1.326inplentur fossae et cava flūmina crēscunt
cum sonitū fervetque fretīs spīrantibus aequor.the ditches fill and the hollow rivers swell with a roar, and the sea seethes in its heaving straits. Georg. 1.328Ipse pater mediā nimbōrum in nocte corusca
fulmina mōlītur dextrā;The Father himself, in the midnight of the storm clouds, wields his thunderbolts with flashing right hand; Georg. 1.329quō maxuma mōtū
330terra tremit;at that motion the vast earth trembles; Georg. 1.330fūgēre ferae et mortālia corda
per gentīs humilīs strāvit pavor;the beasts have fled, and through the nations humbling fear has laid mortal hearts low; Georg. 1.331ille flagrantī
aut Athōn aut Rhodopēn aut alta Ceraunia tēlō
dēicit;he with his blazing bolt strikes down Athos or Rhodope or the high Ceraunians; Georg. 1.333ingeminant austrī et dēnsissimus imber;the south winds redouble, and the rain falls densest; Georg. 1.334nunc nemora ingentī ventō, nunc lītora plangunt.now the woods, now the shores wail under the mighty wind.
Georg. 1.335Hoc metuēns caelī mēnsēs et sīdera servā,
frīgida Sāturnī sēsē quō stella receptet,
quōs ignis caelō Cyllēnius erret in orbīs.Fearing this, watch the months and stars of heaven, where Saturn's cold star withdraws itself, into what circles the Cyllenian fire wanders in the sky. Georg. 1.338In prīmīs venerāre deōs atque annua magnae
sacra refer Cererī laetīs operātus in herbīs
340extrēmae sub cāsum hiemis, iam vērē serēnō.Above all worship the gods, and pay great Ceres her yearly rites, sacrificing on the glad grass at the very end of winter, when spring is already clear. Georg. 1.341Tum pinguēs agnī et tum mollissima vīna,
tum somnī dulcēs dēnsaeque in montibus umbrae.Then lambs are fat and wines most mellow, then sleep is sweet and shadows thick on the mountains. Georg. 1.343Cūncta tibi Cererem pūbēs agrestis adōret;Let all your country youth worship Ceres; Georg. 1.344cui tū lacte favōs et mītī dīlue Bacchō,
345terque novās circum fēlīx eat hostia frūgēs,
omnis quam chorus et sociī comitentur ovantēs,
et Cererem clamōre vocent in tēcta;for her dilute honeycombs with milk and mild wine, and let the lucky victim go three times around the new crops, and let the whole chorus and your comrades accompany it rejoicing, and call Ceres into their homes with shouting; Georg. 1.347neque ante
falcem mātūrīs quisquam suppōnat aristīs,
quam Cererī tortā redimītus tempora quercū
350det mōtūs incompositōs et carmina dīcat.and let no one put his sickle to the ripe ears before, his temples bound with twisted oak, he dances artless dances in honour of Ceres and sings songs.