Virgil's Various Invocations

So today I picked up my copy of the latest big-shot Aeneid translation, released last year. It was a collaborative effort by Scott McGill and Susannah Wright — both scholars I deeply admire. An introduction from Emily Wilson, too! Talk about a triple threat.

Of course, past the foreword and introduction and translator's notes, the start of the poem proper is with the epic invocation of the muse. It is at once a prayer and the very essence of what the story will be.

In the interest of... ahem, my most precious anime daughter, who is canonically an Aeneas (I promise this essay is coming someday, alongside a concordance for all the literary references in Ave Mujica), here's a catalogue of the various invocations, of the first half of the story, across all my copies of the Aeneid!

Absolutely no commentary from me on this, by the way. Just a catalogue. Or else I'd be breaking my hiatus. I AM ON HIATUS! I made a website while off my phone. Shit's like a stress retreat, I swear.

Anyway:

John Dryden (1697)

Arms, and the man I sing, who, forc’d by fate, And haughty Juno’s unrelenting hate, Expell’d and exil’d, left the Trojan shore. Long labours, both by sea and land, he bore, And in the doubtful war, before he won The Latian realm, and built the destin’d town; His banish’d gods restor’d to rites divine, And settled sure succession in his line, From whence the race of Alban fathers come, And the long glories of majestic Rome. O Muse! The causes and the crimes relate; What goddess was provok’d, and whence her hate; For what offence the Queen of Heav’n began To persecute so brave, so just a man; Involv’d his anxious life in endless cares, Expos’d to wants, and hurried into wars! Can heav’nly minds such high resentment show, Or exercise their spite in human woe?

Robert Fitzgerald (1981)

I sing of warfare and a man at war. From the sea-coast of Troy in early days He came to Italy by destiny, To our Lavinian western shore, A fugitive, this captain, buffeted Cruelly on land as on the sea By blows from powers of the air—behind them Baleful Juno in her sleepless rage. And cruel losses were his lot in war, Till he could found a city and bring home His gods to Latium, land of the Latin race, The Alban lords, and the high walls of Rome. Tell me the causes now, O Muse, how galled In her divine pride, and how sore at heart From her old wound, the queen of gods compelled him— A man apart, devoted to his mission— To undergo so many perilous days And enter on so many trials. Can anger Black as this prey on the minds of heaven?

A.S. Kline (2002)

I sing of arms and the man, he who, exiled by fate, first came from the coast of Troy to Italy, and to Lavinian shores – hurled about endlessly by land and sea, by the will of the gods, by cruel Juno’s remorseless anger, long suffering also in war, until he founded a city and brought his gods to Latium: from that the Latin people came, the lords of Alba Longa, the walls of noble Rome. Muse, tell me the cause: how was she offended in her divinity, how was she grieved, the Queen of Heaven, to drive a man, noted for virtue, to endure such dangers, to face so many trials? Can there be such anger in the minds of the gods?

Robert Fagles (2006)

Wars and a man I sing—an exile driven on by Fate, he was the first to flee the coast of Troy, destined to reach Lavinian shores and Italian soil, yet many blows he took on land and sea from the gods above— thanks to cruel Juno’s relentless rage—and many losses he bore in battle too, before he could found a city, bring his gods to Latium, source of the Latin race, the Alban lords and the high walls of Rome. Tell me, Muse, how it all began. Why was Juno outraged? What could wound the Queen of the Gods with all her power? Why did she force a man, so famous for his devotion, to brave such rounds of hardship, bear such trials? Can such rage inflame the immortals’ hearts?

Frederick Ahl (2007)

Arms and the man I sing of Troy, who first from its seashores, Italy-bound, fate’s refugee, arrived at Lavinia’s Coastlands. How he was battered about over land, over high deep Seas by the powers above! Savage Juno’s anger remembered Him, and he suffered profoundly in war to establish a city, Settle his gods into Latium, making this land of the Latins Future home to the Elders of Alba and Rome’s mighty ramparts. Muse, let the memories spill through me. What divine will was wounded, What deep hurt made the queen of the gods thrust a famously righteous Man into so many spirals of chance to face so many labours? Anger so great: can it really reside in the spirits of heaven?

Shadi Bartsch (2018)

My song is of war and a man: a refugee by fate, the first from Troy to Italy's Lavinian shores, battered much on land and sea by blows from gods obliging brutal Juno's unforgetting rage; he suffered much in war as well, all to plant his town and gods in Latium. From here would rise the Latin race, the Alban lords, and Rome's high walls. Remember for me, Muse. Tell me the reasons. What pain, what insult to her power, moved the queen of gods to drive a man famous for piety through misery on misery? Can such anger grip gods' minds?

McGill, Wright (2025)

I sing of arms and of a man displaced by Fate, the first to leave the coast of Troy for Italy and its Lavinian shores: the power of the gods and vicious wrath of unforgetting Juno hurled him far across the sea and lands, and he endured still further pain in war—the price to found his city and install his gods in Latium. The Latin race, the Alban lords, the walls of soaring Rome: from here they all began. Muse, tell me why it happened—what offense, what painful insult led the queen of heaven to drive a man renowned for faithfulness through such ordeals, such endless miseries? Do gods have so much anger in their hearts?