Warfare I sing of　and the war-made man
from Troy; that first one, 　the Fates' refugee,
who from shores of his birth　 bound for Italy
reached Lavinia's beaches.　How battered he was
over the hard of the land, 　over high deep seas
by violence on high 　as vicious Juno
remembered him　in immortal rage;
Much too he suffered 　of sorrow and battle
to found a city,　 settling his gods
in the land of Latium; 　whence the Latin race,
the Alban lords, 　and lofty Rome's walls.

O Muse, make me now 　 remember the causes.
What almighty pride 　was pierced? What deep
grievance so harrowed 　 the gods' high queen
that she forced a man 　famously righteous
to weather in god-fear 　 such wuthering ordeals,
to face such labors? 　Can loathing so great
Truly sputter 　in the spirits of heaven?