Warfare I sing of and the war-made man
from Troy; that first one, the Fates' refugee,
who from shores of his birth bound for Italy
reached Lavinia's beaches. How battered he was
over the hard of the land, over high deep seas
by violence on high as vicious Juno
remembered him in immortal rage;
Much too he suffered of sorrow and battle
to found a city, settling his gods
in the land of Latium; whence the Latin race,
the Alban lords, and lofty Rome's walls.
O Muse, make me now remember the causes.
What almighty pride was pierced? What deep
grievance so harrowed the gods' high queen
that she forced a man famously righteous
to weather in god-fear such wuthering ordeals,
to face such labors? Can loathing so great
Truly sputter in the spirits of heaven?