The Argonautica

Before, through blind folly, I offended the mind of Zeus,

revealing each thing in order, onward to the end; for he

himself wants to show mankind incomplete oracles,

that mortal minds may still require the gods' counsel.

First, setting out from me, you shall behold two rocks,

the two Cyanean Rocks, where channels of the sea converge;

through these I say that no one ever wholly escapes.

The rocks stand never anchored on their deepest roots,

but often charge together, face to face, and meet

as one; above, a towering mass of sea-water crests

and seethes, while harsh surf roars around the rugged shore.

Therefore obey the careful counsel I give now,

if truly, with a prudent mind and heed for blessed gods,

you cleave your way. Do not die by a self-chosen fate,

unwisely, or rush headlong, driven by rash youth.

First make your trial with a dove sent as an omen,

sending her forth before the ship. If she flies safely

between those rocks, on through to sea with beating wings,

then you yourselves must linger on the road no longer,

but set the oars firm in the strength of your own hands

and cleave the narrow strait; clear light of rescue

will lie not so much in prayers as in strength of hands.

So let all else go; labor at what helps you most,

boldly. Beforehand, though, I do not bar your prayers.