Sima the Shepherd

During the season when Jerusalem artichokes bloom and the summer heat induces a heavy lethargy, cicadas vibrate their wings in shrill cries from the treetops. It is a time when goats are at their plumpest, wine at its sweetest, women at their most unrestrained, and men at their weakest. Under the scorching gaze of Sirius, which bakes heads and knees until the skin grows dry and hot, the narrator seeks refuge. He longs for the shelter of a rocky shade, accompanied by a cup of Bybline wine, cheese, and the milk of old goats. His desired feast includes the meat of heifers that have never borne calves, grazing in the woods, as well as kid goat meat. Content to sit beneath the cool shadows with these delicacies, he also wishes to face the fresh west wind, performing libations three times with pure, flowing spring water, and a fourth time with wine.