Ovid’s tale of Daedalus and his son Icarus escaping from Crete through the air, with wings Daedalus has made. But Icarus is neglectful of his father’s advice and flies too close to the sun, which melts the wax fastening.

Read by George Sharpley.

 

Tābuerant cērae: nūdōs quatit ille lacertōs,
rēmigiōque carēns nōn ūllās percipit aurās,
ōraque caeruleā patrium clāmantia nōmen
excipiuntur aquā, quae nōmen traxit ab illō.
at pater īnfēlīx, nec iam pater, ‘Īcare,’ dīxit,
‘Īcare,’ dīxit, ‘ubi es? quā tē regiōne requīram?’
‘Īcare,’ dīcēbat: pennās aspexit in undīs
dēvōvitque suās artēs corpusque sepulcrō
condidit, et tellūs ā nōmine dicta sepultī.

The wax had melted: Icarus shakes his bare arms, and having lost his wings makes no purchase on the air. His lips call his father’s name but are swallowed by the blue sea that would take its name from him. But the hapless father, no longer a father, ‘Icarus,’ he called, ‘Icarus,’ he called, ‘where are you? In what place am I to seek you?’ He was still calling for Icarus when he saw the wings on the waves. He cursed his own skills, and buried the body in a tomb; and the land was called by the name of the buried boy.

 

Music by Bob Bradley and Thomas Balmforth.  Translation and recording © The Latin Qvarter 2020