"Go pleas’d where’er she goes, tho’ long the way"

Yield prompt compliance to the maid’s desires;

A prompt compliance fans the lover’s fires:

Go pleas’d where’er she goes, tho’ long the way,

Tho’ the fierce Dog-star dart his sultry ray;

Tho’ painted Iris gird the bluish sky,

And sure portends, that rattling storms are nigh:

Or, if the fair one pant for sylvan fame,

Gay drag the meshes, and provoke the game:

Nay, should she choose to risk the driving gale;

Or steer, or row, or agile hand the sail:

No toil, tho’ weak, tho’ fearful, thou forbear;

No toils should tire you, and no dangers scare:

Occasion smiles, then snatch an ardent kiss;

The coy may struggle, but will grant the bliss:

The bliss obtain’d, the fictious struggle past,

Unbid, they’ll clasp you in their arms at last.

~ Tibullus, from Elegies

translated by James Grainger

Higuera del Himalaya (Poema de la Tierra), Néstor Martín-Fernández de la Torre, c.1934-1936