---
type: article
status: Published
slug: "carpe-diem"
title: "Odes 1.11 (Carpe Diem)"
author: "Horace"
tradition: "roman"
language: "la"
genre: "lyric"
period: "1st c. BCE"
source_url: "https://la.wikisource.org/wiki/Carmina_(Horatius)/Liber_I/Carmen_XI"
certainty: observed
source: "https://la.wikisource.org/wiki/Carmina_(Horatius)/Liber_I/Carmen_XI"
unknowns: none known
---
# Odes 1.11 (Carpe Diem)

## Original

Tu ne quaesieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi
finem di dederint, Leuconoe, nec Babylonios
temptaris numeros. Ut melius quidquid erit pati,
seu pluris hiemes seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam,
quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare
Tyrrhenum: sapias, vina liques, et spatio brevi
spem longam reseces. Dum loquimur, fugerit invida
aetas: carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.

## Translation — Mouseia

> Mouseia’s complete machine-assisted Musean translation, made directly from the original source for fidelity, modern clarity, beauty, symbolism, and structure.

Do not ask—it is forbidden to know—what end the gods have given me, what end to you,
Leuconoe, nor put the Babylonian numbers to the test.
How much better to bear whatever comes,
whether Jupiter grants us more winters or this is the last,
which now wears down the Tyrrhenian sea upon the opposing pumice cliffs.
Be wise: strain the wine, and within our brief span
prune back long hope. Even as we speak, envious time will have fled:
pluck the day, trusting as little as possible in tomorrow.

## Translation — Mouseia

> Mouseia’s complete Plain English edition, made independently and directly from the full Latin ode.

Do not ask, Leuconoe. We are not allowed to know what end the gods have given me or you. And do not consult Babylonian horoscopes. It is better simply to endure whatever comes, whether Jupiter gives us many more winters, or makes this one, now pounding the Tyrrhenian sea against the cliffs, our last. Be wise. Strain the wine. Cut back long hopes to fit life's short span. Even while we speak, jealous time is running away. Seize the day, and trust as little as possible in tomorrow.

## Translation — Public domain

> Complete public-domain translation made directly from the original source text.

Ask not ('tis forbidden knowledge), what our destined term of years,
Mine and yours; nor scan the tables of your Babylonish seers.
Better far to bear the future, my Leuconoe, like the past,
Whether Jove has many winters yet to give, or this our last;
This, that makes the Tyrrhene billows spend their strength against the shore.
Strain your wine and prove your wisdom; life is short; should hope be more?
In the moment of our talking, envious time has ebb'd away.
Seize the present; trust to-morrow e'en as little as you may.