Ut loca laudavit, summas pede contigit undas:
his quoque laudatis “procul est” ait “arbiter omnis;
nuda superfusis tingamus corpora lymphis.”
Parrhasis erubuit. Cunctae velamina ponunt:
una moras quaerit. Dubitanti vestis adempta est;
qua posita nudo patuit cum corpore crimen.
Attonitae manibusque uterum celare volenti
“i procul hinc” dixit “nec sacros pollue fontes”
Cynthia; deque suo iussit secedere coetu.

She loved the place and tested the water with her foot. Pleased with this too she said ‘Any witness is far away, let’s bathe our bodies naked in the flowing water.’ The Arcadian girl blushed: all of them took off their clothes: one of them tried to delay: hesitantly the tunic was removed and there her shame was revealed with her naked body. Terrified she tried to conceal her swollen belly. Diana cried ‘Go, far away from here: do not pollute the sacred fountain!’ and the Moon-goddess commanded her to leave her band of followers. (tr. Kline)

:::::::::::::::::::::::

Nam fuit haec quondam niveis argentea pennis
ales ut aequaret totas sine labe columbas
nec servaturis vigili Capitolia voce
cederet anseribus nec amanti flumina cycno.
Lingua fuit damno; lingua faciente loquaci
qui color albus erat, nunc est contrarius albo.

He was once a bird with silver-white plumage, equal to the spotless doves, not inferior to the geese, those saviours of the Capitol with their watchful cries, or the swan, the lover of rivers. His speech condemned him. Because of his ready speech he, who was once snow white, was now white’s opposite.:::::::::::::::
http://ovidsmetamorphoses.blogspot.com/2011/04/labyrinth-of-prattle.html

Non ego, Phoebe, datas a te mihi mentiar artes,     
Nec nos aëriae voce monemur avis,
Nec mihi sunt visae Clio Cliusque sorores     
Servanti pecudes vallibus, Ascra, tuis:
Usus opus movet hoc: vati parete perito;
     Vera canam: coeptis, mater Amoris, ades!

Phoebus, I won't pretend that you've endowed me with arts,
     nor is my source the voice of high-flying birds,
nor did Clio and Clio's sisters appear to me,
     Ascra, as I tended my flocks in your valleys.
Experience is what inspires this work! Obey the skilled prophet:
I'll sing truths. Be present, Mother of Love, for my project! 

….………………….

 Nec tibi conveniet cunctos modus unus ad annos:   
Longius insidias cerva videbit anus.
Si doctus videare rudi, petulansve pudenti,     
    Diffidet miserae protinus illa sibi.
Inde fit, ut quae se timuit committere honesto,     
    Vilis ad amplexus inferioris eat.

 A single style won't work for you for every age;
    the seasoned doe will spot a trap further away.
If you seem learned to the simple, or aggressive to the chaste,
    she'll lose confidence in herself at once, poor thing.
Thus it happens that one who's afraid to entrust herself to
    a decent man goes cheap to a worse one's embrace.

https://ovidsmetamorphoses.blogspot.com/

 

Non ego, Phoebe, datas a te mihi mentiar artes,     

Nec nos aëriae voce monemur avis,

Nec mihi sunt visae Clio Cliusque sorores     

Servanti pecudes vallibus, Ascra, tuis:

Usus opus movet hoc: vati parete perito;

     Vera canam: coeptis, mater Amoris, ades!

Phoebus, I won't pretend that you've endowed me with arts,

     nor is my source the voice of high-flying birds,

nor did Clio and Clio's sisters appear to me,

     Ascra, as I tended my flocks in your valleys.

Experience is what inspires this work! Obey the skilled prophet:

     I'll sing truths. Be present, Mother of Love, for my project!