Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus) - 1.5.3. lyrics

On, straight, to Beneventum: where our busy host Nearly burned the inn turning lean thrushes over the fire: As Vulcan's fumes dispersed through the ancient kitchen, Darting flames licked right up to the roof overhead. You saw scared servants and famished guests snatch food And everyone tried to extinguish the roaring blaze. From that point on Apulia begins to reveal Her familiar hills to me, scorched by scirocco, And we'd never have crossed if a villa near Trivicum Hadn't received us, tearful with smoke from the stove That was burning up green wood, foliage and all. Here like an utter fool I lay wakeful till midnight Awaiting a cheating girl: till sleep carried me off Thinking of s**: then a dream full of sordid visions Wet my nightshirt and belly, lying there on my back. From here we're rushed on in a cart twenty-four miles, To spend the night in a little town I can't fit in the verse, Though here's a clue: they sell what's commonly free There, water: but the bread's the best by far, so wise Travellers carry a load on their shoulders for later, ‘cos it's gritty at Can*sium (and your jug's no more Water in) a place brave Diomed founded long ago. Here Varius peels off, to the grief of his weeping friends. So to Rubi exhausted we come, after we've travelled A long stretch of roadway damaged by heavy rain, Next day the weather was better, the road was worse, Right up to fishy Bari. Then Gnatia, on whose building The water-nymphs frowned, brought us laughter and mirth, As it tried to persuade us that incense melts without fire On its temple steps. Let Apella the Jew credit that, I don't: I've heard the gods live a carefree life, And if nature works miracles then it isn't the gods Gloomily sending them down from their home in the sky. Brindisi's the end of a long road and this story.