Victoria

 

SACRILEGIUM GALLINACEUM

Nunc pullum classesque cano, qui pervenit acer
ut Drepani annotet a dis de eventu sine verbis.
Navibus expectant undis ingentibus hostes:
sunt inimici sic sitientes bella cruora.
Sollicitat verbum contra bellum modo Pulcher.
Augur cum granis venit ad Pulchrum gravitate.
In ponte augure far exspargitur ut iubet Pulcher.
Tunc Jovis exit avis cameram tumide graviterque.
Divinus glocidat; cito quaerunt omina nautae.
Nunc vult pullus ador, nunc Pulcher proelium: errant!
Vere dis aliter visum’st prohibet deus escam.
Rostrum clauditur atque cadunt impulsibus omnes.
Nautae orant: “Quid nunc, dux? Non consumit adora!”
Et cito, dux alas rapit! Iratus, videt augur.
“Est falsum omen,” dicit, avem et male decutit. “Ira
me consumpsit! Vi nostri superabimus illos
Poenos! Fata negemus et emundemus adora!”
Pullus non dicit, tentus duce: quid deus optat?
“Stultus dux,” arbitrat avis. “Ratio est mala, sane.”
Censet: “forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit.”
Plumas in mare dux iacit; assequitur sacer exim.
Bello commisso; fluitant in fluctibus ambo.
Navigia inter se figunt; amittitur omnis.
Pullus et intereunt homines Pulcherque nefasto

A SACRILEGE INVOLVING CHICKENS

I sing of fleets and a chicken, who comes sharp
to declaim wordlessly from the gods about the outcome at Drepanum.
The enemies wait on the waves in huge ships
thus they are unfriendly, thirsting for bloody wars.
Pulcher only fears an omen against war.
The augur comes gravely with grain to Pulcher.
Grain is strewn on the deck by the augur as Pulcher orders.
Then Jove’s bird exits the box proudly and seriously.
The divine bird clucks appropriately; the sailors seek omens.
Now the chicken wants grain, now Pulcher wants battle: they’re both wrong.
Truly it seemed otherwise to the gods, and the god prohibits food.
The beak is shut and everyone drops from shock.
The soldiers ask: “What now, Pulcher? The bird has not eaten the grain!”
And suddenly Pulcher grabs the bird! The augur watches, irate.
It is a false omen, he says, shaking the bird badly. “Anger
has consumed me! With violence our men will overcome
the Carthaginians! I deny the omen! Let us sweep up the grain!”
The chicken doesn’t speak, being held by the leader: what does the god intend?
“Stupid leader,” the bird thinks. “This is a bad idea, clearly (DUH).”
He thinks: “Perhaps one day I’ll look back on these things pleasantly.”
The leader tosses the bird into the sea; the priest goes after immediately.
The battle commenced, both toss in the waves.
The boats pierce one another; all is lost.
Chicken, men and Pulcher perish because of sacrilege.