translated by Patrick Creagh

Now that uprooted, in the dust of Thrace,
Italic virtue lay,
Ruined colossus, so that for the valleys
Of green Hesperia and the banks of Tiber
Fate even now prepares
The stamp of barbarous horse, and from the gaunt
Forests tormented by the icy Bear
Calls forth Germanic swords
To crack the fabled walls of Rome, Brutus
Hot with battle, wet with the blood of brothers,
In sombre night, in a sequestered place,
Set already on death, curses
Hell itself and the unpitying gods,
And with ferocious notes
Strikes, and strikes in vain, on the listless air:
...