The mad prophetic Sibyl you shall find, Dark in a cave, and on a rock reclined. She sings the fates, and, in… — Virgil
The mad prophetic Sibyl you shall find,
Dark in a cave, and on a rock reclined.
She sings the fates, and, in her frantic fits,
The notes and names inscribed, to leafs commits.
What she commits to leafs, in order laid,
Before the cavern's entrance are displayed:
Unmoved they lie; but, if a blast of wind
Without, or vapors issue from behind,
The leafs are borne aloft in liquid air,
And she resumes no more her museful care,
Nor gathers from the rocks her scattered verse,
Nor sets in order what the winds disperse.
Thus, many not succeeding, most upbraid
The madness of the visionary maid,
And with loud curses leave the mystic shade.
Insanam vatem aspicies, quae rupe sub ima
Fata canit foliisque notas et nomina mandat.
Quaecumque in foliis descripsit carmina virgo
Digerit in numerum atque antro seclusa relinquit:
Illa manent immota locis neque ab ordine cedunt.
Verum eadem, verso tenuis cum cardine ventus
Impulit et teneras turbavit ianua frondes,
Numquam deinde cavo volitantia prendere saxo
nec revocare situs aut iungere carmina curat:
Inconsulti abeunt sedemque odere Sibyllae.
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