Go, go, my goats, once (but no longer) happy flock.
They liked to stretch out, those ancient Romans, not only at mealtimes. First we had Tityrus ‘recubans’ under his shady beech tree, now Meliboeus ‘projectus’ in his ‘verdant (mossy?) cave’. From his grotto, Meliboeus sees (in his mind’s eye) his sheep in the distance ‘pendere de rupe dumosâ’. Clearly the ancients also liked the shade (‘frigus opacum’). Only mad dogs, goats and exiled surfs went out in the midday sun in those days, unlike some later empire builders.
Having written which, I noticed, not unsurprisingly, that Qimmik had got there before me.
I agree with Qimmik. The poem is full of contrasts: rest versus movement, cultivation versus wilderness, good fortune versus misfortune, order versus chaos. It swings between extremes of place and of time. Even between fact and fantasy.
I find myself object-spotting as I skim through the landscape of the poem:
(trees) fagus, cupressus, quercus, pinus, mâlus
(other plants) corylus, viburnum, dumus
(animals) boves, capellae, apes, palumbes, turtures
(food) caseus, lac, mâla, vitis
and all those rocks, etc.
Then the sounds (water, bees, Caruso, the wind, 2 types of birdsong) crammed into:
Fortunate senex, hic, inter FLUMINA nota
et FONTIS sacros, frigus captabis opacum!
hinc tibi, quae semper, vicino ab limite, saepes
HYBLAEIS APIBUS florem depasta salicti
saepe LEVI somnum suadebit inire SUSURRO;
hinc alta sub rupe CANET FRONDATOR ad AURAS;
nec tamen interea RAUCAE, tua cura, PALUMBES,
nec GEMERE aëria cessabit TURTUR ab ulmo.
Next best thing to Keats’s Ode to Autumn or the retreating song of the bird in the last stanza of Ode to a Nightingale. IMHO.
Bene vale/te
Int