METÁFORA DE UN BUBOSO

What confused music, what tremendous sound
of French arms do I hear, at such a painful
juncture, and in the gloomy darkness,
what well-tuned bands, what military clamor?

What concave volcanoes spitting
flashing spheres do I see? What density
of black smoke, what infernal figure?
Huge and hideous spectacle!

However much you try to exalt yourself, oh Muse,
calling the entire universe to arms
in grandiloquent and valiant style,

I find more of Mercury and Venus than of Mars
in your description, and match it
to a certain ailing Gallic youth.