Holding the reins their steeds untamely shun,
Strong with the dauntless ardor of the sky,
Naked in nakedness olympian,
Forward they strode, brothers, Dioscuri.
Quirites’ fellow-warriors, bearing tale
Of victory, who, sagas say, unknown,
Beside Juturna’s pool themselves unveil
Divine newcomers to the hub of Rome.
There they remained until the world should pass.
Of these huge youths a double effigy
Stood for millennia an unmoved mass,
And there they stand who stood primordially.
Six hills light up in blue surrounding air
As, from high Quirinal, a star shines fair.