Ovid: Unhappy Fame

~
And now my work is done: no wrath of Jove
nor fire nor sword nor time, which would erode
all things, has power to blot out this poem.
Now, when it wills, the fatal day (which has
only the body in its grasp) can end
my years, however long or short their span.
But, with the better part of me, I'll gain
a place that's higher than the stars: my name,
indelible, eternal, will remain.
And everywhere that Roman power has sway,
in all domains the Latins gain, my lines
will be on people's lips; and through all time -
if poets' prophecies are ever right -
my name and fame are sure: I shall have life.

-- The Metamorphoses of Ovid, translated by Allen Mandelbaum

And so Ovid ends his work full of triumph. Poignantly, the victory may have rung somewhat hollow for him, having failed to win Augustus's reversal of his exile from his beloved Rome. One should not mess with the emperor's granddaughter!

Aside from being an especially slow day even for Monk's personal world, one appreciates the writer's bid for immortality through his creation, as this was even one of Monk's own pleasant illusions in his youth somehow.

As for Ovid, he may not have been able to return to Rome, but his fame has transcended even the sway of Roman power!