Make-up Odes 3.30 and 4.7

3.30

I have completed a monument lasting longer than

bronze and higher than the royal site (or neglect? the note said to leave it ambiguous) of the pyramids,

because neither devouring rain, nor the wild north wind is able to demolish (it), nor the innumerable series of years and the flight of time (is able to demolish it).

I will not die completely and many parts of me will avoid Labitina: continuously I arise fresh to praise (?),

while a priest climbs the Capitoline Hill with a silent virgin.

I shall be spoken (of), where violent Aufidus roars and

where poor Danus of water (word order?) ruled the rural people,

out of power of humility, the first to lead the song of Aeolius to Italy in this way. 

Take on meritorious actions sought out by pride and surround the laurel of Delphi on my hair, Melpomene. (wasn't sure how the last two lines worked)

4.7

Snow scatters, the grass already retakes the fields (grass again?)

and the leaves (greenery?) of the trees, the land changes turn,

and the shrinking river omits the shore.

Naked kindness, with Nymphs and twin sisters wish(ing?) to lead a chorus. 

You do not hope for immortality, the year reminds and the kind hour which snatches

away the day. The clod becomes wild with the west wind, spring is able to die through summer, at the same time fruitful autumn pours out fruit (what? is he trying to say that this is when things are ready to harvest just in a really Latin-y way?)

and soon the shortest day will lazily return.

Nevertheless the swift celestial moon recovers the losses (Is this talking about death?):

to where do we die, where (wasn't sure when to use where and when to use for what purpose, and how to word it properly) the father Aeneas, who the rich Tellus and Aneus, are dust and ghosts. (Had trouble with that part)

Who knows, whether the gods above will add time of tomorrow to today's sum? 

The friends which give you their souls, they all flee the hands of the greedy heir.

When at the same time you will die,

and Minos of the gods (what to do with the de?) has passed his illustrious

judgement on you, neither your birth, nor your eloquence, nor your devotion

will resort you, Torquatus: and for Diana does not free the honorable

Hippolytus from infernal darkness, Theseus is not strong enough to break the chain of dear

Pirithous.