A Happy Life

The Poet's Prescription

Pieter de Hooch, Mother and Cradle (c. 1661)

The Roman poet Martial, writing in the late first century AD, is best known for his astonishingly filthy epigrams. However, he did manage to write some sweet and touching ones as well (I’ve posted my translation of his poem on Publius’s little dog Issa), and even an occasional philosophical thought.

His prescription for a simple, happy life, addressed affectionately to himself, works pretty well even today:

What makes a happy life, you say,
My dearest Martial? Here's the way.
Have wealth that’s given, not hard-earned,
A fruitful field, a home well-turned.
No fights, light work, and mental calm,
Good health, a body free from harm.
Plain wisdom, friends of equal worth,
Unfussy fare and easy mirth;
Not tight at night, but free from care;
A virtuous bed that’s warm to share;
Deep sleep that makes the dark night fly.
To be yourself nor elsewise try;
To fear not death nor wish to die.

Vitam quae faciant beatiorem,
Iucundissime Martialis, haec sunt:
Res non parta labore, sed relicta;
Non ingratus ager, focus perennis;
Lis numquam, toga rara, mens quieta;                            5
Vires ingenuae, salubre corpus;
Prudens simplicitas, pares amici;
Convictus facilis, sine arte mensa;
Nox non ebria, sed soluta curis;
Non tristis torus, et tamen pudicus;                            10
Somnus, qui faciat breves tenebras.
Quod sis, esse velis nihilque malis;
Summum nec metuas diem nec optes.