|Sulmo, [460] the third part of the Pelignian land, [461] _now_ receives me; a little spot, but salubrious with its flowing streams. Though the Sun should cleave the earth with his approaching rays, and though the oppressive Constellation [462] of the Dog of Icarus should shine, the Pelignian fields are traversed by flowing streams, and the shooting grass is verdant on the soft ground. The earth is fertile in corn, and much more fruitful in the grape; the thin soil [463] produces, too, the olive, that bears its berries. [464] The rivers also trickling amid the shooting blades, the grassy turfs cover the moistened ground. But my flame is far away. In one word, I am mistaken; she who excites my flame is far off; my flame is here. I would not choose, could I be placed between Pollux and Castor, to be in a portion of the heavens without yourself. Let them lie with their anxious cares, and let them be pressed with the heavy weight of the earth, who have measured out the earth into lengthened tracks. [465] Or else they should have bid the fair to go as the companions of the youths, if the earth must be measured out into lengthened tracks. Then, had I, shivering, had to pace the stormy Alps, [466] the journey would have been pleasant, so that _I had been_ with my love. With my love, I could venture to rush through the Libyan quicksands, and to spread my sails to be borne along by the fitful Southern gales. _Then_, I would not dread the monsters which bark beneath the thigh of the virgin _Scylla_; nor winding Malea, thy bays; nor where Charybdis, sated with ships swallowed up, disgorges them, and sucks up again the water which she has discharged. And if the sway of the winds prevails, and the waves bear away the Deities about to come to our aid; do you throw your snow-white arms around my shoulders; with active body will I support the beauteous burden. The youth who visited Hero, had often swam across the waves; then, too, would he have crossed them, but the way was dark. But without you, although the fields affording employment with their vines detain me; although the meadows be overflowed by the streams, and _though_ the husbandman invite the obedient stream [467] into channels, and the cool air refresh the foliage of the trees, I should not seem to be among the healthy Peliguians; I _should_ not _seem to be in_ the place of my birth--my paternal fields; but in Scythia, and among the fierce Cilicians, [468] and the Britons _painted_ green, [469] and the rocks which are red with the gore of Prometheus.