Translation
Ovid's Metamorphoses have been read throughout the Western world since their first publication early in the first century CE. English translations of Ovid were produced in the middle ages, and the work had a profound influence on many English writers, including Shakespeare.

Translation is itself an art. A translator seeks to convey both the meaning and the artistic qualities of a text in another language. A selection of lines from this passage of the Narcissus and Echo story should demonstrate the degree of variation that is possible among translations, and should also caution readers not to jump to interpretive decisions about details in a translated text. Whenever possible, check the original language before basing an interpretive argument on any aspect of the translated text; features such as assonance, alliteration, or rhyme, which are contingent upon the actual sounds of the original language, may not be reproduced by the translation. On the other hand, translations can introduce elements into works that do not exist in the original.

Arthur Golding, 1567:
O Lord how often did he kisse that false deceitfull thing?
How often did he thrust his armes midway into the spring
To have embraste the necke he saw and could not catch himselfe?
He knowes not what it was he sawe. And yet the foolish elfe
Doth burne in ardent love thereof. The verie selfsame thing
That doth bewitch and blinde his eyes, encreaseth all his sting.

George Sandys, 1632: How often would he kisse the flattering spring!
How often with downe-thrust arms sought he to cling
About that loved neck! Those cous'ning lips
Delude his hopes; and from himselfe he slips.
Not knowing whatg, with what he sees he fryes:
And th' error that deceives, incites his eyes.

Joseph Addison, :
To the cold water often he joins his lips,
Oft catching at the beauteous shade he dips
His arms, as often from himself he slips.
Nor knows he who it is his arms pursue
With eager clasp, but loves he knows not who.

Rolfe Humphries, 1955:
           How often
He tries to kiss the image in the water,
Dips in his arms to embrace the boy he sees there,
And finds the boy, himself, elusive as always,
Not knowing what he sees, but burning for it,
The same delusion mocking his eyes and teasing.

Ovid in English, edited by Christopher Martin (London: Penguin, 1998) offers a selection of English translations of Ovid's work ranging from Chaucer to poets living today such as Ted Hughes and Seamus Heaney.