Chapter 10: Winter’s Wind

Don’t crowd into the blacksmith’s shop,

seeking its heat with everybody else

in wintertime.

Sure, the bitter cold keeps men from

working outside.

But why not work hard at home inside? [495]

Otherwise bad winter may overtake you.

And you’ll be helpless if

poverty makes you frostbitten

and starving to death.


The only thing for a lazy man to feed on

is vain hopes. He has no livelihood.

All that his competitive spirit can achieve is

to be the best at bitter complaints.

The needy man knows

no good hope. [500]

He sits around. He’s a big talker.

But he has more dreams than income.


This is why, in the middle of summer,

you must be wise. Command your workers:

“Summer’s warmth will not always be here.

Build now a safe shelter for winter.”


The worst month of winter

has days that freeze the ass

of even an ox. This is when

you must avoid the cruel wind chill [505]

of Boreas, the North Wind,

who blasts across the Earth.

He travels down over horse-breeding Thrace,

crosses the open sea,

whips up its waters,

and then makes Earth and her forests scream.

Tall oak trees, topped with leaves,

sturdy fir trees, topped with green,

they all fall down before him,

swept down, crashing [510]

on the mountainside.

He roars through the forests,

making even the wildest animals shiver.

Tails between their legs, they cower before him.

It doesn’t matter if their hides

have fur. His bitter blast

blows through

even the thickest of skins.


He slices right through the hide of an ox.

It is no defense against him. [515]

He assaults the shaggy goat’s pile of hair.

Only a sheep’s fleece stands a chance.

Sheep wool is so thick,

usually Boreas is unable to pierce it.

So then, what about an old man?

Well, what do you think? Boreas spins him like a wheel.


But here’s a comforting thought:

he cannot touch the tender skin of a young girl

who stays safe inside

her dear mother’s home. [520]

She does not yet know

the ways of golden Aphrodite.

Even so, she warmly bathes her soft limbs.

Having dried, she anoints her body

with fragrant oil. Then she lies down

in the inmost room. There she waits, expectantly.


Meanwhile, at the bottom of the sea,

the boneless octopus can only feed on himself.

In winter, his ocean home turns bleak,

without warmth, and he has no option left. [525]

The sun used to show him where he could feed,

but now it has departed. Instead,

the sun roams vigorously over Africa,

keeping the dark-skinned peoples warm.

As for Greece, in winter,

the sun shines on us only reluctantly.


Meanwhile, in the forest,

the creatures, horned and unhorned alike,

whimper as their teeth chatter.

When Boreas blows, they bolt through the trees [530]

looking for shelter. One care,

and one care only, do they have:

to find protection in some hiding place,

to be safe

within the hollow of a rocky cave.

But they move like an old man with a cane:

bent over by nature’s assault,

the head can only look down.

When winter thus descends,

one wanders in the falling white, looking for escape. [535]


But if you plan on going outside,

then I say cover up your skin with layers.

Wear a soft and flexible outer coat,

but wear inner clothing over your body’s full length.

Make sure the fabric is double-woven,

to be durable and resistant to the cold.

You will know you have clothed yourself right

if not one of your hairs can move.

Give no room on your skin for them

to bristle and shiver, standing on end. [540]


Cover your feet well, with good boots that fit.

On their outsides, you want the hide

of a slaughtered ox and,

on their insides, a thick felt lining.

When winter’s frosty season arrives,

then make use of ox’s sinew to

sew together some skins from newborn goats.

Put this on your back. You’ll find

it’ll keep the rain off.

Up on top, put on your head [545]

a fitted cap, made of felt.

If fitted right, it’ll keep your ears dry.


Boreas descends at daybreak,

and attacks the morning with his chill.

But still, dawn’s mist spreads itself

out over the Earth. It falls from starry Sky

as a blessing,

down upon the wheat-bearing fields.

This mist has its source

in rivers that flow forever. [550]


Sometimes a windstorm

raises this mist on high, over the Earth. If so,

in evening, it may turn to rain.

Sometimes it blows as the wet wind

Boreas sends from Thrace.

Then its onslaught even pushes aside thick clouds.

Get your work done and get home

before Boreas chooses either of these evening options.

Do not let the dark wetness from the sky

envelop you. [555]

It’ll soak your skin

and soak your clothes.


Indeed, the worst month of winter

is very harsh. So why go outside to meet him?

He greets you only with chilly Boreas.

He is harsh on flocks, and harsh on humans.

Since not much work can be done outside,

oxen need only half of their usual food ration.

But console yourself by taking a little more than half.

The nights are long and cold. [560]


Exercise caution in winter,

just as I have advised. Then when the year is ended,

when the days are again

as long as the nights, then again

will Earth, the mother of all, yield for us

all of her abundant fruits.