Den latin inscription "Ubi defuit orbis" (Där han slog ner världen. Where he defeated the world). Dikten "Ubi defuit orbis Spartacus" är ett av den polske romantiske poeten Cyprian Kamil Norwid (1821-1883) klassicistiska poem som söker ge en imaginativ representation av särskilda historiska ögeonblick. Här är det Spartacus' i en stund av reflektion kring sin moraliska seger över den omgivande dekadenta världen.
In this poem, Norwid muses upon the decadence of ancient Rome, where citizens took delight in the spectacle of men fighting to the death and the mass slaughter of condemned men and women. We observe the Romans through the eyes of the well known Thracian gladiator Spartacus, who having escaped from his master (a certain Lentulus of Capua), gathered an army and for a time conquered the mighty armies of Rome. Both he and his gladiator army were eventually defeated by the tactical genius of Licinius Crassus, who routed the gladiators and slaughtered one and all.The poem brings us to the moment when Spartacus is captured and stands in the gladiator's ring as a slave, castigating the Roman masses for their twisted pursuits. He accuses them of having reneged on the lofty ideals that their gods represent; Minerva-wisdom and learning; Venus-beauty, love and pleasure.The poem begins with a little Latin inscription "Ubi defuit orbis" (Where he defeated the world). We should not associate this line with Spartacus' future martial success but with a moment's personal reflection: a moral victory over an onlooking decadent world.Ubi defuit orbis SpartacusAfter the second and third were slainThe gladiator saluted to exclaim:
"This not this-this is not Strength,
This is not Wisdom, it is your name.
Great Jupiter threatens me no more,
Minerva at her own cult she sneers:
Two hundred thousand spectators roar
Every day-the need for blood and tears.
You came seeking death for death's sake,
How to touch this spirit, this might?
We are for you but a book or a mosaic,
Our voice to your ears-a sling's flight.
You came seeking death for death's sake,
Already your enlightenment-night.
ii
After the second and third were slain
The gladiator saluted to exclaim:
"This-not this-this is not Love,
This is not Friendship, it is your name.
Castor and Pollux, old friends fair,
With kisses their loyalty swore;
Yet Venus with her false garnished hair,
And red cheeks, a sweaty unguent stain.
You sit as rocks in a circle of stone,
Slowly covered by a coat of moss:
And your souls-our final death's groan,
And your bodies-our quarter, our loss.
You sit as rocks in a circle of stone
Already your life, our death, our cross.
Introduction and translation by Barry Keane
