Metamorphoses

“There is a high hill near Trœzen of Pittheus, without any trees, once a very level surface of a plain, but now a hill; for (frightful to tell) the raging power of the winds, pent up in dark caverns, desiring to find some vent and having long struggled in vain to enjoy a freer air, as there was no opening in all their prison and it was not pervious to their blasts, swelled out the extended earth, just as the breath of the mouth is wont to inflate a bladder, or the hide stripped from the two-horned goat. That swelling remained on the spot, and still preserves the appearance of a high hill, and has grown hard in length of time. Though many other instances may occur, either heard of by, or known to, yourselves, yet I will mention a few more. And besides, does not water, as well, both produce and receive new forms? In the middle of the day, thy waters, horned Ammon, are frozen, at the rising and at the setting of the sun they are warm. On applying its waters, Athamanis is said to kindle wood when the waning moon has shrunk into her smallest orb. The Ciconians have a river, which when drunk of, turns the entrails into stone, and lays a covering of marble on things that are touched by it. The Crathis and the Sybaris adjacent to it, in our own country, make the hair similar in hue to amber and gold.

MetamorphosesOvidHenry T. RileyEnglishVerse permalinkRead in Book 15

Book 15, Line 19ProseID metamorphoses-riley-en-prose-15-19