Calvus, save that as eyes thou art beloved,I could verily loathe thee for the morning'sGift, Vatinius hardly more devoutly.Slain with poetry! done to death with abjects!5O what syllable earn'd it, act allow'd it?Gods, your malison on the sorry clientSent that rascally rabble of malignants.Yet, if, freely to guess, the gift recherchéSome grammarian, haply Sulla, sent thee;10I repine not; a dear delight, a triumphThis, thy drudgery thus to see rewarded.Gods! an horrible and a deadly volume!Sent so faithfully, friend, to thy Catullus,Just to kill him upon a day, the festive,15Saturnalia, best of all the season.Sure, a drollery not without requital.For, come dawn, to the cases and the bookshopsI; there gather a Caesius and Aquinus,With Suffenus, in every wretch a poison:20Such plague-prodigy thy remuneration!Now good-morrow! away with evil omenWhence ill destiny lamely bore ye, clumsyPoet-rabble, an age's execration!
Calvus, save that as eyes thou art beloved,I could verily loathe thee for the morning'sGift, Vatinius hardly more devoutly.
Slain with poetry! done to death with abjects!5O what syllable earn'd it, act allow'd it?Gods, your malison on the sorry clientSent that rascally rabble of malignants.
Yet, if, freely to guess, the gift recherchéSome grammarian, haply Sulla, sent thee;10I repine not; a dear delight, a triumphThis, thy drudgery thus to see rewarded.
Gods! an horrible and a deadly volume!
Sent so faithfully, friend, to thy Catullus,Just to kill him upon a day, the festive,15Saturnalia, best of all the season.Sure, a drollery not without requital.
For, come dawn, to the cases and the bookshopsI; there gather a Caesius and Aquinus,With Suffenus, in every wretch a poison:20Such plague-prodigy thy remuneration!
Now good-morrow! away with evil omenWhence ill destiny lamely bore ye, clumsyPoet-rabble, an age's execration!
Readers, any that in the future everScan my fantasies, haply lay upon meHands adventurous of solicitation—
Readers, any that in the future everScan my fantasies, haply lay upon meHands adventurous of solicitation—
Lend thy bounty to me, to my beloved,Kind Aurelius. I do ask a favourFair and lawful; if you did e'er in earnestSeek some virginal innocence to cherish,5Touch not lewdly the mistress of my passion.Trust the people; avails not aught to fear them,Such, who hourly within the streets repassing,Run, good souls, on a busy quest or idle.You, you only the free, the felon-hearted,10Fright me, prodigal you of every virtue.Well, let luxury run her heady riot,Love flow over; enough abroad to sate thee:This one trespass—a tiny boon—presume not.But should impious heat or humour headstrong15Drive thee wilfully, wretch, to such profaning,In one folly to dare a double outrage:Ah what misery thine; what angry fortune!Heels drawn tight to the stretch shall open inwardLodgment easy to mullet and to radish.
Lend thy bounty to me, to my beloved,Kind Aurelius. I do ask a favour
Fair and lawful; if you did e'er in earnestSeek some virginal innocence to cherish,5Touch not lewdly the mistress of my passion.
Trust the people; avails not aught to fear them,Such, who hourly within the streets repassing,Run, good souls, on a busy quest or idle.
You, you only the free, the felon-hearted,10Fright me, prodigal you of every virtue.
Well, let luxury run her heady riot,Love flow over; enough abroad to sate thee:This one trespass—a tiny boon—presume not.
But should impious heat or humour headstrong15Drive thee wilfully, wretch, to such profaning,In one folly to dare a double outrage:
Ah what misery thine; what angry fortune!Heels drawn tight to the stretch shall open inwardLodgment easy to mullet and to radish.
I'll traduce you, accuse you, and abuse you,Soft Aurelius, e'en as easy Furius.You that lightly a saucy verse resenting,Misconceit me, sophisticate me wanton.5Know, pure chastity rules the godly poet,Rules not poesy, needs not e'er to rule it;Charms some verse with a witty grace delightful?'Tis voluptuous, impudent, a wanton.It shall kindle an icy thought to courage,10Not boy-fancies alone, but every frozenFlank immovable, all amort to pleasure.You my kisses, a million happy kisses,Musing, read me a silky thrall to softness?I'll traduce you, accuse you, and abuse you.
I'll traduce you, accuse you, and abuse you,Soft Aurelius, e'en as easy Furius.You that lightly a saucy verse resenting,Misconceit me, sophisticate me wanton.
5Know, pure chastity rules the godly poet,Rules not poesy, needs not e'er to rule it;Charms some verse with a witty grace delightful?'Tis voluptuous, impudent, a wanton.
It shall kindle an icy thought to courage,10Not boy-fancies alone, but every frozenFlank immovable, all amort to pleasure.
You my kisses, a million happy kisses,Musing, read me a silky thrall to softness?I'll traduce you, accuse you, and abuse you.
1.
Kind Colonia, fain upon bridge more lengthy to gambol,And quite ready to dance amain, fearing only the rottenLegs too crazily steadied on planks of old resurrections,Lest it plunge to the deep morass, there supinely to welter;5So surprise thee a sumptuous bridge thy fancy to pleasure,Passive under a Salian god's most lusty procession;This rare favour, a laugh for all time, Colonia, grant me.In my township a citizen lives: Catullus adjures theeHeadlong into the mire below topsy-turvy to drown him.10Only, where the superfluent lake, the spongy putrescence,Sinks most murkily flushed, descends most profoundly the bottom.Such a ninny, a fool is he; witless even as anyTwo years' urchin, across papa's elbow drowsily swaying.
Kind Colonia, fain upon bridge more lengthy to gambol,And quite ready to dance amain, fearing only the rottenLegs too crazily steadied on planks of old resurrections,Lest it plunge to the deep morass, there supinely to welter;5So surprise thee a sumptuous bridge thy fancy to pleasure,Passive under a Salian god's most lusty procession;This rare favour, a laugh for all time, Colonia, grant me.
In my township a citizen lives: Catullus adjures theeHeadlong into the mire below topsy-turvy to drown him.10Only, where the superfluent lake, the spongy putrescence,Sinks most murkily flushed, descends most profoundly the bottom.
Such a ninny, a fool is he; witless even as anyTwo years' urchin, across papa's elbow drowsily swaying.
2.
For though wed to a maiden in spring-tide youthfully budding,15Maiden crisp as a petulant kid, as airily wanton,Sweets more privy to guard than e'er grape-bunch shadowy-purpling;He, he leaves her alone to romp idly, cares not a fouter.Nor leans to her at all, the man's part; but helpless as alderLies, new-fell'd in a ditch, beneath axe Ligurian ham-strung,20As alive to the world, as if world nor wife were at issue.Such this gaby, my own, my arch fool; he sees not, he hears notWho himself is, or if the self is, or is not, he knows not.Him I'd gladly be lowering down thy bridge to the bottom,If from stupor inanimate peradventure he wake him,25Leaving muddy behind him his sluggish heart's hesitation,As some mule in a glutinous sludge her rondel of iron.
For though wed to a maiden in spring-tide youthfully budding,15Maiden crisp as a petulant kid, as airily wanton,Sweets more privy to guard than e'er grape-bunch shadowy-purpling;He, he leaves her alone to romp idly, cares not a fouter.Nor leans to her at all, the man's part; but helpless as alderLies, new-fell'd in a ditch, beneath axe Ligurian ham-strung,20As alive to the world, as if world nor wife were at issue.
Such this gaby, my own, my arch fool; he sees not, he hears notWho himself is, or if the self is, or is not, he knows not.
Him I'd gladly be lowering down thy bridge to the bottom,If from stupor inanimate peradventure he wake him,25Leaving muddy behind him his sluggish heart's hesitation,As some mule in a glutinous sludge her rondel of iron.
Sire and prince-patriarch of hungry starvelings,Lean Aurelius, all that are, that have been,That shall ever in after years be famish'd;Wouldst thou lewdly my dainty love to folly5Tempt, and visibly? thou be near, be jokingCling and fondle, a hundred arts redouble?O presume not: a wily wit defeatedPays in scandalous incapacitation.Yet didst folly to fulness add, 'twere all one;10Now shall beauty to thirst be train'd or hunger'sGrim necessity; this is all my sorrow.Then hold, wanton, upon the verge; to-morrowComes preposterous incapacitation.
Sire and prince-patriarch of hungry starvelings,Lean Aurelius, all that are, that have been,That shall ever in after years be famish'd;
Wouldst thou lewdly my dainty love to folly5Tempt, and visibly? thou be near, be jokingCling and fondle, a hundred arts redouble?
O presume not: a wily wit defeatedPays in scandalous incapacitation.
Yet didst folly to fulness add, 'twere all one;10Now shall beauty to thirst be train'd or hunger'sGrim necessity; this is all my sorrow.
Then hold, wanton, upon the verge; to-morrowComes preposterous incapacitation.
Suffenus, he, dear Varus, whom, methinks, you know,Has sense, a ready tongue to talk, a wit urbane,And writes a world of verses, on my life no less.Ten times a thousand he, believe me, ten or more,5Keeps fairly written; not on any palimpsest,As often, enter'd, paper extra-fine, sheets new,New every roller, red the strings, the parchment-caseLead-rul'd, with even pumice all alike complete.You read them: our choice spirit, our refin'd rare wit,10Suffenus, O no ditcher e'er appeared more rude,No looby coarser; such a shock, a change is there.How then resolve this puzzle? He the birthday-wit,For so we thought him—keener yet, if aught is so—Becomes a dunce more boorish e'en than hedge-born boor,15If e'er he faults on verses; yet in heart is thenMost happy, writing verses, happy past compare,So sweet his own self, such a world at home finds he.Friend, 'tis the common error; all alike are wrong,Not one, but in some trifle you shall eye him true20Suffenus; each man bears from heaven the fault they send,None sees within the wallet hung behind, our own.
Suffenus, he, dear Varus, whom, methinks, you know,Has sense, a ready tongue to talk, a wit urbane,And writes a world of verses, on my life no less.
Ten times a thousand he, believe me, ten or more,5Keeps fairly written; not on any palimpsest,As often, enter'd, paper extra-fine, sheets new,New every roller, red the strings, the parchment-caseLead-rul'd, with even pumice all alike complete.
You read them: our choice spirit, our refin'd rare wit,10Suffenus, O no ditcher e'er appeared more rude,No looby coarser; such a shock, a change is there.
How then resolve this puzzle? He the birthday-wit,For so we thought him—keener yet, if aught is so—Becomes a dunce more boorish e'en than hedge-born boor,15If e'er he faults on verses; yet in heart is thenMost happy, writing verses, happy past compare,So sweet his own self, such a world at home finds he.
Friend, 'tis the common error; all alike are wrong,Not one, but in some trifle you shall eye him true20Suffenus; each man bears from heaven the fault they send,None sees within the wallet hung behind, our own.
Needy Furius, house nor hoard possessing,Bug or spider, or any fire to thaw you,Yet most blest in a father and a step-dame,Each for penury fit to tooth a flint-stone:5Is not happiness yours? a home united?Son, sire, mother, a lathy dame to match him.Who can wonder? in all is health, digestion,Pure and vigorous, hours without a trouble.Fires ye fear not, or house's heavy downfal,10Deeds unnatural, art in act to poison,Dangers myriad accidents befalling.Then your bodies? in every limb a shrivell'dHorn, all dryness in all the world whatever,Tann'd or frozen or icy-lean with ages.15Sure superlative happiness surrounds thee.Thee sweat frets not, an o'er-saliva frets not,Frets not snivel or oozy rheumy nostril.Yet such purity lacks not e'en a purer.White those haunches as any cleanly-silver'd20Salt, it takes you a month to barely dirt them.Then like beans, or inert as e'er a pebble,Those impeccable heavy loins, a finger'sBreadth from apathy ne'er seduced to riot.Such prosperity, such superb profusion,25Slight not, Furius, idly nor reject not.As for sesterces, all the would-be fortune,Cease to wish it; enough, methinks, the present.
Needy Furius, house nor hoard possessing,Bug or spider, or any fire to thaw you,Yet most blest in a father and a step-dame,Each for penury fit to tooth a flint-stone:5Is not happiness yours? a home united?Son, sire, mother, a lathy dame to match him.
Who can wonder? in all is health, digestion,Pure and vigorous, hours without a trouble.Fires ye fear not, or house's heavy downfal,10Deeds unnatural, art in act to poison,Dangers myriad accidents befalling.
Then your bodies? in every limb a shrivell'dHorn, all dryness in all the world whatever,Tann'd or frozen or icy-lean with ages.15Sure superlative happiness surrounds thee.Thee sweat frets not, an o'er-saliva frets not,Frets not snivel or oozy rheumy nostril.
Yet such purity lacks not e'en a purer.White those haunches as any cleanly-silver'd20Salt, it takes you a month to barely dirt them.Then like beans, or inert as e'er a pebble,Those impeccable heavy loins, a finger'sBreadth from apathy ne'er seduced to riot.
Such prosperity, such superb profusion,25Slight not, Furius, idly nor reject not.As for sesterces, all the would-be fortune,Cease to wish it; enough, methinks, the present.
O thou blossom of all the race JuventianNot now only, but all as yet arisen,All to flower in after-years arising;Midas' treasury better you presented5Him that owns not a slave nor any coffer,Ere you suffer his alien arm's presuming.What? you fancy him all refin'd perfection?Perfect! truly, without a slave, a coffer.Slight, reject it, away with it; for all that10He, he owns not a slave nor any coffer.
O thou blossom of all the race JuventianNot now only, but all as yet arisen,All to flower in after-years arising;
Midas' treasury better you presented5Him that owns not a slave nor any coffer,Ere you suffer his alien arm's presuming.
What? you fancy him all refin'd perfection?Perfect! truly, without a slave, a coffer.
Slight, reject it, away with it; for all that10He, he owns not a slave nor any coffer.
Smooth Thallus, inly softer you than any furry rabbit,Or glossy goose's oily plumes, or velvet earlap yielding,Or feeble age's heavy thighs, or flimsy filthy cobweb;And Thallus, hungry rascal you, as hurricane rapacious,5When winks occasion on the stroke, the gulls agape declaring:Return the mantle home to me, you watch'd your hour to pilfer,The fleecy napkin and the rings from Thynia quaintly graven,Whatever you parade as yours, vain fool, a sham reversion:Unglue the nails adroit to steal, unclench the spoil, deliver,10Lest yet that haunch voluptuous, those tender hands caressant,Should take an ugly print severe, the scourge's heavy branding;And strange to bruises you should heave, as heaves in open Ocean,Some little hoy surprised adrift, when wails the windy water.
Smooth Thallus, inly softer you than any furry rabbit,Or glossy goose's oily plumes, or velvet earlap yielding,Or feeble age's heavy thighs, or flimsy filthy cobweb;
And Thallus, hungry rascal you, as hurricane rapacious,5When winks occasion on the stroke, the gulls agape declaring:
Return the mantle home to me, you watch'd your hour to pilfer,The fleecy napkin and the rings from Thynia quaintly graven,Whatever you parade as yours, vain fool, a sham reversion:
Unglue the nails adroit to steal, unclench the spoil, deliver,10Lest yet that haunch voluptuous, those tender hands caressant,Should take an ugly print severe, the scourge's heavy branding;
And strange to bruises you should heave, as heaves in open Ocean,Some little hoy surprised adrift, when wails the windy water.
Draughts, dear Furius, if my villa faces,'Tis not showery south, nor airy wester,North's grim fury, nor east; 'tis only fifteenThousand sesterces, add two hundred over.5Draft unspeakable, icy, pestilential!
Draughts, dear Furius, if my villa faces,'Tis not showery south, nor airy wester,North's grim fury, nor east; 'tis only fifteenThousand sesterces, add two hundred over.5Draft unspeakable, icy, pestilential!
Boy, young caterer of Falernian olden,Brim me cups of a fiercer harsher essence;So Postumia, queen of healths presiding,Bids, less thirsty the thirsty grape, the toper.5But dull water, avaunt. Away the wine-cup'sSullen enemy; seek the sour, the solemn!Here Thyonius hails his own elixir.
Boy, young caterer of Falernian olden,Brim me cups of a fiercer harsher essence;So Postumia, queen of healths presiding,Bids, less thirsty the thirsty grape, the toper.5But dull water, avaunt. Away the wine-cup'sSullen enemy; seek the sour, the solemn!Here Thyonius hails his own elixir.
Starving company, troop of hungry Piso,Light of luggage, of outfit expeditious,You, Veranius, you, my own Fabullus,Say, what fortune? enough of empty masters,5Frost and famine, a lingering probation?Stands your diary fair? is any profitEnter'dgiven? as I to serve a praetorCount each beggarly gift a timely profit.Trust me, Memmius, you did aptly finger10My passivity, fool'd me most supinely.Friends, confess it; in e'en as hard a fortuneYou stand mulcted, on you a like abashlessRake rides heavily. Court the great who wills it!Gods and goddesses evil heap upon ye,15Rogues to Romulus and to Remus outcast.
Starving company, troop of hungry Piso,Light of luggage, of outfit expeditious,You, Veranius, you, my own Fabullus,
Say, what fortune? enough of empty masters,5Frost and famine, a lingering probation?
Stands your diary fair? is any profitEnter'dgiven? as I to serve a praetorCount each beggarly gift a timely profit.
Trust me, Memmius, you did aptly finger10My passivity, fool'd me most supinely.
Friends, confess it; in e'en as hard a fortuneYou stand mulcted, on you a like abashlessRake rides heavily. Court the great who wills it!
Gods and goddesses evil heap upon ye,15Rogues to Romulus and to Remus outcast.
Can any brook to see it, any tamely bear—If any, gamester, epicure, a wanton, he—Mamurra's own whatever all the curly GaulsDid else inherit, or the lonely Briton isle?5Can you look on, look idly, filthy Romulus?Shall he, in o'er-assumption, o'er-repletion he,Sedately saunter every dainty couch along,A bright Adonis, as the snowy dove serene?Can you look on, look idly, filthy Romulus?10Look idly, gamester, epicure, a wanton, you.Unique commander, and was only this the pleaDetain'd you in that islet angle of the west,To gorge the shrunk seducer irreclaimableWith haply twice a million, add a million yet?15What else was e'er unhealthy prodigality?The waste? to lust a little? on the belly less?Begin; a glutted hoard paternal; ebb the first.To this, the booty Pontic; add the spoil from outIberia, known to Tagus' amber ory stream.20Not only Gaul, nor only quail the Briton isles.What help a rogue to fondle? is not all his actTo swallow monies, empty purses heap on heap?But you—to please him only, shame to Rome, to me!Could you the son, the father, idly ruin all?
Can any brook to see it, any tamely bear—If any, gamester, epicure, a wanton, he—Mamurra's own whatever all the curly GaulsDid else inherit, or the lonely Briton isle?5Can you look on, look idly, filthy Romulus?
Shall he, in o'er-assumption, o'er-repletion he,Sedately saunter every dainty couch along,A bright Adonis, as the snowy dove serene?Can you look on, look idly, filthy Romulus?10Look idly, gamester, epicure, a wanton, you.
Unique commander, and was only this the pleaDetain'd you in that islet angle of the west,To gorge the shrunk seducer irreclaimableWith haply twice a million, add a million yet?15What else was e'er unhealthy prodigality?
The waste? to lust a little? on the belly less?Begin; a glutted hoard paternal; ebb the first.To this, the booty Pontic; add the spoil from outIberia, known to Tagus' amber ory stream.20Not only Gaul, nor only quail the Briton isles.
What help a rogue to fondle? is not all his actTo swallow monies, empty purses heap on heap?But you—to please him only, shame to Rome, to me!Could you the son, the father, idly ruin all?
False Alfenus, in all amity frail, duty a prodigal,Doth thy pity depart? Shall not a friend, traitor, a friend recalLove? what courage is here me to betray, me to repudiate?. . . . . . . . . . .5. . . . . . . . . . .Never sure did a lie, never a sin, please the celestials.(5)This you heed not; alas! leave me to new misery, desolate.O where now shall a man trust? liveth yet any fidelity?You, you only did urge love to be free, life to surrender, you.10Guiding into the snare, falsely secure, prophet of happiness.Now you leave me, retract, every deed, every word allow(10)Into nullity winds far to remove, vapoury clouds to bear.You forget me, but yet surely the Gods, surely rememberethFaith; hereafter again honour awakes, causeth a wretch to rue.
False Alfenus, in all amity frail, duty a prodigal,Doth thy pity depart? Shall not a friend, traitor, a friend recal
Love? what courage is here me to betray, me to repudiate?. . . . . . . . . . .
5. . . . . . . . . . .Never sure did a lie, never a sin, please the celestials.
(5)This you heed not; alas! leave me to new misery, desolate.O where now shall a man trust? liveth yet any fidelity?
You, you only did urge love to be free, life to surrender, you.10Guiding into the snare, falsely secure, prophet of happiness.
Now you leave me, retract, every deed, every word allow(10)Into nullity winds far to remove, vapoury clouds to bear.
You forget me, but yet surely the Gods, surely rememberethFaith; hereafter again honour awakes, causeth a wretch to rue.
O thou of islands jewel and of half-islands,Fair Sirmio, whatever o'er the lakes' clear rimOr waste of ocean, Neptune holds, a two-fold pow'r;What joy have I to see thee, and to gaze what glee!5Scarce yet believing Thunia past, the fair champaignBithunian, yet in safety thee to greet once more.From cares to part us—where is any joy like this?Then drops the soul her fardel, as the travel-tir'dWorld-weary wand'rer touches home, returns, sinks down10In joy to slumber on the bed desir'd so long.This meed, this only counts for e'en an age all toil.O take a welcome, lovely Sirmio, thy lord's,And greet him happy; greet him all the lake Lydian;Laugh out whatever laughter at the hearth rings clear.
O thou of islands jewel and of half-islands,Fair Sirmio, whatever o'er the lakes' clear rimOr waste of ocean, Neptune holds, a two-fold pow'r;What joy have I to see thee, and to gaze what glee!
5Scarce yet believing Thunia past, the fair champaignBithunian, yet in safety thee to greet once more.From cares to part us—where is any joy like this?
Then drops the soul her fardel, as the travel-tir'dWorld-weary wand'rer touches home, returns, sinks down10In joy to slumber on the bed desir'd so long.This meed, this only counts for e'en an age all toil.
O take a welcome, lovely Sirmio, thy lord's,And greet him happy; greet him all the lake Lydian;Laugh out whatever laughter at the hearth rings clear.
List, I charge thee, my gentle Ipsithilla,Lovely ravisher and my dainty mistress,Say we'll linger a lazy noon together.Suits my company? lend a farther hearing:5See no jealousy make the gate against me,See no fantasy lead thee out a-roaming.Keep close chamber; anon in all profusionCount me kisses again again returning.Bides thy will? with a sudden haste command me;10Full and wistful, at ease reclin'd, a loverHere I languish alone, supinely dreaming.
List, I charge thee, my gentle Ipsithilla,Lovely ravisher and my dainty mistress,Say we'll linger a lazy noon together.
Suits my company? lend a farther hearing:5See no jealousy make the gate against me,See no fantasy lead thee out a-roaming.Keep close chamber; anon in all profusionCount me kisses again again returning.
Bides thy will? with a sudden haste command me;10Full and wistful, at ease reclin'd, a loverHere I languish alone, supinely dreaming.
Master-robber of all that haunt the bath-rooms,Old Vibennius, and his heir the wanton;(His the dirtier hands, the greedy father,Yours the filthier heart, his heir as hungry;)5Please your knaveries hoist a sail for exile,Pains and privacy? since by this the father'sThefts are palpable, and a rusty favour,Son, picks never a penny from the people.
Master-robber of all that haunt the bath-rooms,Old Vibennius, and his heir the wanton;(His the dirtier hands, the greedy father,Yours the filthier heart, his heir as hungry;)
5Please your knaveries hoist a sail for exile,Pains and privacy? since by this the father'sThefts are palpable, and a rusty favour,Son, picks never a penny from the people.
Great Diana protecteth us,Maids and boyhood in innocence.Maidens virtuous, innocentBoys, your song be Diana.5Hail, Latonia, thou that artThroned daughter of enthronis'dJove; near Delian olive ofMighty mother y-boren.Queen of mountainous heights, of all10Forests leafy, delightable;Glens in bowery depths remote,Rivers wrathfully sounding.Thee, Lucina, the travailingMother haileth, a sovereign15Juno; Trivia thou, the brightMoon, a glory reflected.Thou thine annual orb anew,Goddess, monthly remeasuring,Farmsteads lowly with affluent20Corn dost fill to the flowing.Be thy heavenly name whate'erName shall please thee, in hallowing;Still keep safely the gloriousRace of Romulus olden.
Great Diana protecteth us,Maids and boyhood in innocence.Maidens virtuous, innocentBoys, your song be Diana.5Hail, Latonia, thou that artThroned daughter of enthronis'dJove; near Delian olive ofMighty mother y-boren.Queen of mountainous heights, of all10Forests leafy, delightable;Glens in bowery depths remote,Rivers wrathfully sounding.Thee, Lucina, the travailingMother haileth, a sovereign15Juno; Trivia thou, the brightMoon, a glory reflected.Thou thine annual orb anew,Goddess, monthly remeasuring,Farmsteads lowly with affluent20Corn dost fill to the flowing.Be thy heavenly name whate'erName shall please thee, in hallowing;Still keep safely the gloriousRace of Romulus olden.
1.
Take Caecilius, him the tender-heartedBard, my paper, a wish from his Catullus.Come from Larius, haste to leave the new-builtComum's watery city, seek Verona.5Some particular intimate reflexionsOne would tell thee, a friend we love together.
Take Caecilius, him the tender-heartedBard, my paper, a wish from his Catullus.Come from Larius, haste to leave the new-builtComum's watery city, seek Verona.
5Some particular intimate reflexionsOne would tell thee, a friend we love together.
2.
So he'll quickly devour the way, if onlyHe's no booby; for all a snowy maidenChide imperious, and her hands around him10Both in jealousy clasp'd, refuse departure.She, if only report the truth bely not,Doats, as hardly within her own possession.
So he'll quickly devour the way, if onlyHe's no booby; for all a snowy maidenChide imperious, and her hands around him10Both in jealousy clasp'd, refuse departure.
She, if only report the truth bely not,Doats, as hardly within her own possession.
3.
For since lately she read his high-preludingQueen of Dindymus, all her heart is ever15Melting inly with ardour and with anguish.Maiden, laudable is that high emotion,Muse more rapturous, you, than any Sappho.The Great Mother he surely sings divinely.
For since lately she read his high-preludingQueen of Dindymus, all her heart is ever15Melting inly with ardour and with anguish.
Maiden, laudable is that high emotion,Muse more rapturous, you, than any Sappho.The Great Mother he surely sings divinely.
1.
Vilest paper of all dishonour, annalsOf Volusius, hear my lovely lady'sVow, and pay it; awhile she swore to VenusAnd fond Cupid, if ever I returning5Ceased from enmity, left to launch iambics,She would surely devote the sorry poet'sChoicest rarities unto sooty Vulcan,The lame deity, there to blaze lamenting.With such drollery, such supreme defiance,10Swore strange oath to the gods the naughty wanton.
Vilest paper of all dishonour, annalsOf Volusius, hear my lovely lady's
Vow, and pay it; awhile she swore to VenusAnd fond Cupid, if ever I returning5Ceased from enmity, left to launch iambics,
She would surely devote the sorry poet'sChoicest rarities unto sooty Vulcan,The lame deity, there to blaze lamenting.
With such drollery, such supreme defiance,10Swore strange oath to the gods the naughty wanton.
2.
Now, O heavenly child of azure Ocean,Queen of Idaly, queen of Urian highlands,Who Ancona the fair, the reedy CnidosHauntest, Amathus and the lawny Golgi,15Or Dyrrhachium, hostel Adriatic;Hear thy votaress, answer her petition;'Tis most graceful, a dainty thought to charm thee.But ye verses, away to fire, to burning,Rank rusticities, empty vapid annals20Of Volusius, heap of all dishonour.
Now, O heavenly child of azure Ocean,Queen of Idaly, queen of Urian highlands,
Who Ancona the fair, the reedy CnidosHauntest, Amathus and the lawny Golgi,15Or Dyrrhachium, hostel Adriatic;
Hear thy votaress, answer her petition;'Tis most graceful, a dainty thought to charm thee.
But ye verses, away to fire, to burning,Rank rusticities, empty vapid annals20Of Volusius, heap of all dishonour.
1.
O frowsy tavern, frowsy fellowship therein,Ninth post in order next beyond the twins cap-crown'd,Shall manly service none but you alone employ,Shall you alone whatever in the world smiles fair,5Possess it, every other hold to lack esteem?Or if in idiot impotence arow you sit,One hundred, yes two hundred, am not I, think you,A man to bring mine action on your whole row there?So think not, he that likes not; answer how you may,10With scorpion I, with emblem all your haunt will scrawl.
O frowsy tavern, frowsy fellowship therein,Ninth post in order next beyond the twins cap-crown'd,
Shall manly service none but you alone employ,Shall you alone whatever in the world smiles fair,5Possess it, every other hold to lack esteem?
Or if in idiot impotence arow you sit,One hundred, yes two hundred, am not I, think you,A man to bring mine action on your whole row there?
So think not, he that likes not; answer how you may,10With scorpion I, with emblem all your haunt will scrawl.
2.
For she the bright one, lately fled beyond these arms,The maid belov'd as maiden is belov'd no more,Whom I to win, stood often in the breach, fought long,Has sat amongst you. Her the grand, the great, all, all15Do dearly love her; yea, beshrew the damned wrong,Each slight seducer, every lounger highway-born,You chiefly, peerless paragon of the tribe long-lock'd,Rude Celtiberia's child, the bushy rabbit-den,Egnatius, so modish in the big bush-beard,20And teeth a native lotion hardly scours quite pure.
For she the bright one, lately fled beyond these arms,The maid belov'd as maiden is belov'd no more,Whom I to win, stood often in the breach, fought long,
Has sat amongst you. Her the grand, the great, all, all15Do dearly love her; yea, beshrew the damned wrong,Each slight seducer, every lounger highway-born,
You chiefly, peerless paragon of the tribe long-lock'd,Rude Celtiberia's child, the bushy rabbit-den,
Egnatius, so modish in the big bush-beard,20And teeth a native lotion hardly scours quite pure.
Cornificius, ill is your Catullus,Ill, ah heaven, a weary weight of anguish,More more weary with every day, with each hour.You deny me the least, the very lightest5Help, one whisper of happy thought to cheer me.Nay, I'm sorrowful. You to slight my passion?Ah! one word, but a tiny word to cheer me,Sad as ever a tear Simonidean.
Cornificius, ill is your Catullus,Ill, ah heaven, a weary weight of anguish,More more weary with every day, with each hour.
You deny me the least, the very lightest5Help, one whisper of happy thought to cheer me.
Nay, I'm sorrowful. You to slight my passion?Ah! one word, but a tiny word to cheer me,Sad as ever a tear Simonidean.
1.
Egnatius, spruce owner of superb white teeth,Smiles sweetly, smiles for ever: is the bench in viewWhere stands a pleader just prepar'd to rouse our tears,Egnatius smiles sweetly; near the pyre they mourn5Where weeps a mother o'er the lost, the kind one son,Egnatius smiles sweetly; what the time or placeOr thing soe'er, smiles sweetly; such a rare complaintIs his, not handsome, scarce to please the town, say I.
Egnatius, spruce owner of superb white teeth,Smiles sweetly, smiles for ever: is the bench in viewWhere stands a pleader just prepar'd to rouse our tears,
Egnatius smiles sweetly; near the pyre they mourn5Where weeps a mother o'er the lost, the kind one son,Egnatius smiles sweetly; what the time or place
Or thing soe'er, smiles sweetly; such a rare complaintIs his, not handsome, scarce to please the town, say I.
2.
So take a warning for the nonce, my friend; town-bred10Were you, a Sabine hale, a pearly Tiburtine,A frugal Umbrian body, Tuscan huge of paunch,A grim Lanuvian black of hue, prodigious-tooth'd,A Transpadane, my country not to pass untax'd,In short whoever cleanly cares to rinse foul teeth,15Yet sweetly smiling ever I would have you not,For silly laughter, it's a silly thing indeed.
So take a warning for the nonce, my friend; town-bred10Were you, a Sabine hale, a pearly Tiburtine,A frugal Umbrian body, Tuscan huge of paunch,
A grim Lanuvian black of hue, prodigious-tooth'd,A Transpadane, my country not to pass untax'd,In short whoever cleanly cares to rinse foul teeth,
15Yet sweetly smiling ever I would have you not,For silly laughter, it's a silly thing indeed.
3.
Well: you're a Celtiberian; in the parts therebyWhat pass'd the night in water, every man, come dawn,Scours clean the foul teeth with it and the gums rose-red;20So those Iberian snowy teeth, the more they shine,So much the deeper they proclaim the draught impure.
Well: you're a Celtiberian; in the parts therebyWhat pass'd the night in water, every man, come dawn,Scours clean the foul teeth with it and the gums rose-red;
20So those Iberian snowy teeth, the more they shine,So much the deeper they proclaim the draught impure.
What fatality, what chimera drives theeHeadlong, Ravidus, on to my iambics?What fell deity, most malign to listen,Fires thy fury to quarrel unavailing?5Wouldst thou busy the breath of half the people?Break with clamour at any cost the silence?Thou wilt do it; a wretch that hop'd my darlingLove to fondle, a sure retaliation.
What fatality, what chimera drives theeHeadlong, Ravidus, on to my iambics?
What fell deity, most malign to listen,Fires thy fury to quarrel unavailing?
5Wouldst thou busy the breath of half the people?Break with clamour at any cost the silence?
Thou wilt do it; a wretch that hop'd my darlingLove to fondle, a sure retaliation.
Ameana, the maiden of the people,Asks me sesterces, all the many thousands.Maiden she with a nose not wholly faultless,Bankrupt Formian, your declar'd devotion.5Wherefore look to the maiden, her relations:Call her family, summon all the doctors.Your poor maiden is oddly touch'd; a mirrorSure would lend her a soberer reflexion.
Ameana, the maiden of the people,Asks me sesterces, all the many thousands.
Maiden she with a nose not wholly faultless,Bankrupt Formian, your declar'd devotion.
5Wherefore look to the maiden, her relations:Call her family, summon all the doctors.
Your poor maiden is oddly touch'd; a mirrorSure would lend her a soberer reflexion.
1.
Come all hendecasyllables whatever,Wheresoever ye house you, all whatever.I the game of an impudent adultress?She refuse to return to me the tablets5Where you syllable? O ye can't be silent.Up, have after her, ask renunciation.Would ye know her? a woman, you shall eye herStrutting loftily, whiles she laughs a loud laughVast and vulgar, a Gaulish hound beseeming.10Form your circle about her, ask her, urge her.'Hark, adulteress, hand the note-book over.Hark, the note-book, adultress, hand it over.'
Come all hendecasyllables whatever,Wheresoever ye house you, all whatever.
I the game of an impudent adultress?She refuse to return to me the tablets5Where you syllable? O ye can't be silent.Up, have after her, ask renunciation.
Would ye know her? a woman, you shall eye herStrutting loftily, whiles she laughs a loud laughVast and vulgar, a Gaulish hound beseeming.10Form your circle about her, ask her, urge her.
'Hark, adulteress, hand the note-book over.Hark, the note-book, adultress, hand it over.'
2.
What? you scorn us? O ugly filth, detestedTrull, whatever is all abomination.15Nay then, louder. Enough as yet it is not.If this only remains, perhaps the dog-likeFace may colour, a brassy blush may yield us.Swell your voices in higher harsher yellings,'Hark, adulteress, hand the note-book over;20Hark, the note-book; adultress, hand it over.'Look, she moves not at all: we waste the moments.Change your quality, try another issue.Such composure a sweeter air may alter.'Pure and virtuous, hand the note-book over.'
What? you scorn us? O ugly filth, detestedTrull, whatever is all abomination.
15Nay then, louder. Enough as yet it is not.If this only remains, perhaps the dog-likeFace may colour, a brassy blush may yield us.Swell your voices in higher harsher yellings,
'Hark, adulteress, hand the note-book over;20Hark, the note-book; adultress, hand it over.'
Look, she moves not at all: we waste the moments.Change your quality, try another issue.Such composure a sweeter air may alter.'Pure and virtuous, hand the note-book over.'
Hail, fair virgin, a nose among the larger,Feet not dainty, nor eyes to match a raven,Mouth scarce tenible, hands not wholly faultless,Tongue most surely not absolute refinement,5Bankrupt Formian, your declar'd devotion.Thou the beauty, the talk of all the province?Thou my Lesbia tamely think to rival?O preposterous, empty generation!
Hail, fair virgin, a nose among the larger,Feet not dainty, nor eyes to match a raven,Mouth scarce tenible, hands not wholly faultless,Tongue most surely not absolute refinement,5Bankrupt Formian, your declar'd devotion.Thou the beauty, the talk of all the province?Thou my Lesbia tamely think to rival?O preposterous, empty generation!
O thou my Sabine farmstead or my Tiburtine,For who Catullus would not harm, avow, kind souls,Thou surely art at Tibur; and who quarrel willSabine declare thee, stake the world to prove their say:5But be'st a Sabine, be'st a very Tiburtine,At thy suburban villa what delight I knewTo spit the tiresome cough away, my lungs' ill guest,My belly brought me, not without a sad weak sin,Because a costly dinner I desir'd too much.10For I, to feast with Sestius, that host unmatch'd,A speech of his, pure poison, every line deep-drugg'd,His speech against the plaintiff Antius, read through.Whereat a cold chill, soon a gusty cough in fits,Shook, shook me ever, till to thy retreat I fled,15There duly dosed with nettle and repose found cure.So, now recruited, thanks superlative, dear farm,I give thee, who so lightly didst avenge that sin.And trust me, farm, if ever I again take upWith Sextius' black charges, I'll rebel no more;20But let the chill things damn to cold, to cough, not meThat read the volume—no, but him, the man's vain self.
O thou my Sabine farmstead or my Tiburtine,For who Catullus would not harm, avow, kind souls,Thou surely art at Tibur; and who quarrel willSabine declare thee, stake the world to prove their say:
5But be'st a Sabine, be'st a very Tiburtine,At thy suburban villa what delight I knewTo spit the tiresome cough away, my lungs' ill guest,My belly brought me, not without a sad weak sin,Because a costly dinner I desir'd too much.
10For I, to feast with Sestius, that host unmatch'd,A speech of his, pure poison, every line deep-drugg'd,His speech against the plaintiff Antius, read through.
Whereat a cold chill, soon a gusty cough in fits,Shook, shook me ever, till to thy retreat I fled,15There duly dosed with nettle and repose found cure.So, now recruited, thanks superlative, dear farm,I give thee, who so lightly didst avenge that sin.
And trust me, farm, if ever I again take upWith Sextius' black charges, I'll rebel no more;20But let the chill things damn to cold, to cough, not meThat read the volume—no, but him, the man's vain self.
1.
While Septimius in his arms his AcmeFondled closely, 'My own,' said he, 'my Acme,If I love not as unto death, nor hold meEver faithfully well-prepar'd to largest5Strain of fiery wooer yet to love thee,Then in Libya, then may I alone inBurning India face a sulky lion.'Scarce he ended, upon the right did eagerLove sneeze amity; 'twas before to leftward.
While Septimius in his arms his AcmeFondled closely, 'My own,' said he, 'my Acme,
If I love not as unto death, nor hold meEver faithfully well-prepar'd to largest5Strain of fiery wooer yet to love thee,
Then in Libya, then may I alone inBurning India face a sulky lion.'
Scarce he ended, upon the right did eagerLove sneeze amity; 'twas before to leftward.
2.
10Acme quietly back her head recliningTowards her boy, with a rosy mouth delightfulKissed his passionate eyes elately swimming,Then 'Septimius, O my life' she murmur'd,'So may he that is in this hour ascendant15Rule us ever, as in me burns a greaterFire, a fiercer, in every vein triumphing.'Scarce she ended, upon the right did eagerLove sneeze amity; 'twas before to leftward.
10Acme quietly back her head recliningTowards her boy, with a rosy mouth delightfulKissed his passionate eyes elately swimming,
Then 'Septimius, O my life' she murmur'd,'So may he that is in this hour ascendant
15Rule us ever, as in me burns a greaterFire, a fiercer, in every vein triumphing.'
Scarce she ended, upon the right did eagerLove sneeze amity; 'twas before to leftward.
3.
So, that augury joyous each possessing,20Loves, is lov'd with an even emulation.Poor Septimius, all to please his Acme,Recks not Syria, recks not any Britain.In Septimius only faithful AcmeMakes her softnesses, holds her happy pleasures.25When did mortal on any so rejoicingLook, on union hallow'd as divinely?
So, that augury joyous each possessing,20Loves, is lov'd with an even emulation.
Poor Septimius, all to please his Acme,Recks not Syria, recks not any Britain.
In Septimius only faithful AcmeMakes her softnesses, holds her happy pleasures.
25When did mortal on any so rejoicingLook, on union hallow'd as divinely?
Now soft spring with her early warmth returneth,Now doth Zephyrus, health benignly breathing,Still the boisterous equinoctial heaven.Leave we Phrygia, leave the plains, Catullus,5Leave Nicaea, the sultry soil of harvest:On for Asia, for the starry cities.Now all flurry the soul is out a-ranging,Now with vigour aflame the feet renew them.Farewell company true, my lovely comrades.10You so joyfully borne from home together,Now o'er many a weary way returning.
Now soft spring with her early warmth returneth,Now doth Zephyrus, health benignly breathing,Still the boisterous equinoctial heaven.
Leave we Phrygia, leave the plains, Catullus,5Leave Nicaea, the sultry soil of harvest:On for Asia, for the starry cities.Now all flurry the soul is out a-ranging,Now with vigour aflame the feet renew them.
Farewell company true, my lovely comrades.10You so joyfully borne from home together,Now o'er many a weary way returning.