Maybe you’ll harvest so much grain,
you think of sailing the stormy sea to sell it.
But don’t be like the Pleiades.
They dip into the dark sea, to escape
from mighty Orion, in late October,
during plowing season! [620]
Not only that, the wild windblasts
are then at their worst.
No, at that time ships have no business
being on the wine-dark sea.
Are you listening to me? Stay home
and do farm work. Work the plow.
If you have a ship, that is the time
to place her in dry dock. Pack stones closely around.
This will be her defense, immobile,
when the wet winds seek to knock her down. [625]
Keep her drain hole open, otherwise
the rain will build up, and rot her insides out.
Store in your home
all the sailing gear.
Stack up neatly the oars, because you need
reliable wings for your ship. And
in this time, the ship’s rudder has no use,
except as a trophy above your fireplace.
Perses, do you understand yet?
Everything has a proper season, especially sailing. [630]
If you do set sail in a swift ship over the waters,
then please be smart enough to stow
an appropriate cargo. There is no sense in
transporting yourself from profit into loss.
Perses, you big dumb child!
Did you not learn from our own father’s experience?
He too, the sailing salesman with a shipload,
chased the dream of living like nobility.
Once upon a time, he even came here.
He had to cross a vast expanse of sea. [635]
He came down from Aeolian Cyme,
all the way to ascend ass-end Ascra.
He had fled from neither comforts,
nor riches, nor prosperity.
He sailed seeking all that:
refuge from Zeus’ evil curse upon men, their poverty.
But then he had to settle here,
near Helicon, in a lousy little town,
Ascra. Crap? Yeah!
Harsh winters. Sweaty summers. Nowhere near noble. [640]
So where will you end up, Perses?
Where will you be stuck, if you don’t remember
that every deed done, to be done well,
must discern a proper season? Especially sailing!
Wow, look at that fancy little ship!
Oh, wouldn’t cargo be safer in a big ugly one?
Wow, look at all the inventory you transport!
The bigger the pile, the bigger your profits!
Oh, won’t you be stuck, bankrupted for life,
if the storm winds decide to sink it all? [645]
But your competitive spirit
favors the foolish turn, from farming to trading.
Why? You want to escape from your debts.
You take no delight in hunger.
Well then, let me instruct you in moderate deeds.
Let me sing of the loud-roaring sea.
I admit that I am no expert when it comes to sea travel.
What do I know about rich crafts?
Do I look like Helen of Troy?
Never have I ever sailed on a ship across the wide sea. [650]
I’ve only made one short boat trip:
from Aulis to Euboea. Aulis is where the Achaeans
once parked and waited out the storm.
That was when their mighty armada had been
mustered from all over divine Greece.
They sailed off to subdue Troy’s beautiful women.
From Aulis I sailed over,
to compete in the games at Chalcis.
In honor of noble Amphidamas,
a great-souled man, his sons [655]
had established many great prizes.
May I boast about what happened at Chalcis?
With my song, the Theogony, I won first prize.
I was awarded a trophy, a tripod cauldron,
which I took home. I set it up as a monument,
dedicated to the Muses of Helicon, on that
spot by sacred Helicon, where they had breathed into me
a clear-speaking, inspired voice.
I can’t number all the bolts in a ship.
But I can number the trips I’ve made. One! [660]
Yet that same one is all the proof you need
to trust my song. I sing of the mind of Zeus,
he who holds the aegis. The Muses themselves
taught me to sing heaven-sent hymns.
Fifty days
after the summer solstice,
the season of summer’s most wearisome heat
will be over.
That is the best time for mortals to set sail.
The weather won’t smash [665]
up your ship and send your sailors drowned
down at the bottom of the sea.
Even so, Poseidon, the Earth Shaker,
might still bring that about.
Even so, Zeus, the king of the immortal gods,
could choose your destruction.
Either good or evil can happen,
when their plans are fulfilled.
But as for the weather then,
steady is the breeze and safe is the sea. [670]
You won’t have to worry about
whether your swift ship can trust the winds.
So drag it out of dry dock, and drop it in the sea,
filled up with your cargo.
But don’t waste time on the trip.
Hasten to get back home again. Don’t get caught
at sea when you could be at home
for the season of new wine. That is the season of
autumnal rains and chilly storms.
The south wind, Notus, blows hard then. [675]
Zeus sends Notus
to accompany the heavy autumnal rains.
But this stirs the sea into upheaval.
Crossing the open water in those waves is suicide.
There is only one other opportune time
for humans to sail. It is in spring,
when you first see the leaves
sprouting on top of the fig tree. [680]
At that time, the shoots are no bigger
than a crow’s footprint. The sea is traversable then,
in the spring sailing season.
But I myself do not recommend it.
My competitive spirit
is not stirred by it at all.
At most, you can fit in a quick trip.
More likely, you’ll get into trouble on the spring sea.
But why then do humans sail,
even in dangerous times? Is it out of ignorance? [685]
The answer is simple:
for wretched mortals, money is life.
But waves are death. Aren’t they?
Death by drowning is terrible. So take my advice to
keep in mind everything I say,
when you plan your get-rich-quick trip. I say:
Do you really want to gamble
your entire livelihood by placing it inside a fragile ship?
Leave the greater part on land.
Risk only a smaller part at sea. [690]
Disaster at sea is a terrible turn of fortune.
Waves are death.
Would you ever take such a risk on land?
Would you load all you own onto your wagon?
It’s obvious that is how to break its axle.
Then everything would spill and be spoiled.
This is the lesson: moderate deeds.
Everything done well has discerned a proper season.