Mosella by Ausonius

5. The vineyards


Vine from Moselle vineyard



Enough! We have watched the watery ways.
We have seen the slippery shoals of fish.
We have ennumerated their manifold companies.

The spectacle of vines brings on another show.
The gifts of Bacchus hold our gaze like a procession,
Where hilltop ridges stretching far around,
And crags, and sunny peaks, and winding valleys,
Rise tall with vines as in a natural theatre.

(In the self-same way kindly vineyards clothe
The Gaurus Mountain, and Mount Rhodope;
And Mount Pangaeus gleams with its own wine-god
Just so Ismarus hill is green above the Thracian Sea,
And thus my vineyards lend their colour to the Garonne.)


Looking down the vine-clad hills to the Moselle


For to the hilltops,  sweeping ever upwards,
The river’s bank is planted with green vines.
Happy labourers and hard-working farmers
Now hasten to the peak, now down the ridge,
Competing with rough shouts. Over there a traveller
Trampling the tow-path, and over here a boatman
Slipping past, sing rude songs to those working late.
The rocks and trembling wood and concave stream
Applaud the songs with their echoes.