No More Learning

poetry.

C. VALERII CATVLLI

LIBER.

I.

Quoi dono lepidum novom libellum
Arida modo pumice expolitum?
Corneli, tibi: namque tu solebas
Meas esse aliquid putare nugas,
Iam tum cum ausus es unus Italorum 5
Omne aevum tribus explicare chartis
Doctis, Iuppiter, et laboriosis.
Quare habe tibi quidquid hoc libelli,
Qualecumque, quod o patrona virgo,
Plus uno maneat perenne saeclo. 10

I.

DEDICATION TO CORNELIUS NEPOS.

Now smooth'd to polish due with pumice dry
Whereto this lively booklet new give I?
To thee (Cornelius! ); for wast ever fain
To deem my trifles somewhat boon contain;
E'en when thou single 'mongst Italians found 5
Daredst all periods in three Scripts expound
Learned (by Jupiter! ) elaborately.
Then take thee whatso in this booklet be,
Such as it is, whereto O Patron Maid
To live down Ages lend thou lasting aid! 10

To whom inscribe my dainty tome--just out and with ashen pumice polished?
Cornelius, to thee! for thou wert wont to deem my triflings of account, and
at a time when thou alone of Italians didst dare unfold the ages' abstract
in three chronicles--learned, by Jupiter! --and most laboriously writ.
Wherefore take thou this booklet, such as 'tis, and O Virgin Patroness, may
it outlive generations more than one.

II.

Passer, deliciae meae puellae,
Quicum ludere, quem in sinu tenere,
Quoi primum digitum dare adpetenti
Et acris solet incitare morsus,
Cum desiderio meo nitenti 5
Carum nescioquid libet iocari
Vt solaciolum sui doloris,
Credo ut iam gravis acquiescat ardor:
Tecum ludere sicut ipsa possem
Et tristis animi levare curas! 10
* * * *
Tam gratumst mihi quam ferunt puellae
Pernici aureolum fuisse malum,
Quod zonam soluit diu ligatam.

II.

LESBIA'S SPARROW.

Sparrow! my pet's delicious joy,
Wherewith in bosom nurst to toy
She loves, and gives her finger-tip
For sharp-nib'd greeding neb to nip,
Were she who my desire withstood 5
To seek some pet of merry mood,
As crumb o' comfort for her grief,
Methinks her burning lowe's relief:
Could I, as plays she, play with thee,
That mind might win from misery free! 10
* * * *
To me t'were grateful (as they say),
Gold codling was to fleet-foot May,
Whose long-bound zone it loosed for aye.

Sparrow, petling of my girl, with which she wantons, which she presses to
her bosom, and whose eager peckings is accustomed to incite by stretching
forth her forefinger, when my bright-hued beautiful one is pleased to jest
in manner light as (perchance) a solace for her heart ache, thus methinks
she allays love's pressing heats! Would that in manner like, I were able
with thee to sport and sad cares of mind to lighten!

* * * *

This were gracious to me as in story old to the maiden fleet of foot was
the apple golden-fashioned which unloosed her girdle long-time girt.

III.

Lugete, o Veneres Cupidinesque,
Et quantumst hominum venustiorum.
Passer mortuus est meae puellae,
Passer, deliciae meae puellae,
Quem plus illa oculis suis amabat: 5
Nam mellitus erat suamque norat
Ipsa tam bene quam puella matrem
Nec sese a gremio illius movebat,
Sed circumsiliens modo huc modo illuc
Ad solam dominam usque pipiabat. 10
Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum
Illuc, unde negant redire quemquam.
At vobis male sit, malae tenebrae
Orci, quae omnia bella devoratis:
Tam bellum mihi passerem abstulistis. 15
O factum male! io miselle passer!
Tua nunc opera meae puellae
Flendo turgiduli rubent ocelli.

III.

ON THE DEATH OF LESBIA'S SPARROW.

Weep every Venus, and all Cupids wail,
And men whose gentler spirits still prevail.
Dead is the Sparrow of my girl, the joy,
Sparrow, my sweeting's most delicious toy,
Whom loved she dearer than her very eyes; 5
For he was honeyed-pet and anywise
Knew her, as even she her mother knew;
Ne'er from her bosom's harbourage he flew
But 'round her hopping here, there, everywhere,
Piped he to none but her his lady fair. 10
Now must he wander o'er the darkling way
Thither, whence life-return the Fates denay.
But ah! beshrew you, evil Shadows low'ring
In Orcus ever loveliest things devouring:
Who bore so pretty a Sparrow fro' her ta'en. 15
(Oh hapless birdie and Oh deed of bane! )
Now by your wanton work my girl appears
With turgid eyelids tinted rose by tears.

Mourn ye, O ye Loves and Cupids and all men of gracious mind. Dead is the
sparrow of my girl, sparrow, sweetling of my girl. Which more than her eyes
she loved; for sweet as honey was it and its mistress knew, as well as
damsel knoweth her own mother nor from her bosom did it rove, but hopping
round first one side then the other, to its mistress alone it evermore did
chirp. Now does it fare along that path of shadows whence naught may e'er
return. Ill be to ye, savage glooms of Orcus, which swallow up all things
of fairness: which have snatched away from me the comely sparrow. O deed of
bale! O sparrow sad of plight! Now on thy account my girl's sweet eyes,
swollen, do redden with tear-drops.

IIII.

Phaselus ille, quem videtis, hospites,
Ait fuisse navium celerrimus,
Neque ullius natantis impetum trabis
Nequisse praeter ire, sive palmulis
Opus foret volare sive linteo. 5
Et hoc negat minacis Adriatici
Negare litus insulasve Cycladas
Rhodumque nobilem horridamque Thraciam
Propontida trucemve Ponticum sinum,
Vbi iste post phaselus antea fuit 10
Comata silva: nam Cytorio in iugo
Loquente saepe sibilum edidit coma.
Amastri Pontica et Cytore buxifer,
Tibi haec fuisse et esse cognitissima
Ait phaselus: ultima ex origine 15
Tuo stetisse dicit in cacumine,
Tuo imbuisse palmulas in aequore,
Et inde tot per inpotentia freta
Erum tulisse, laeva sive dextera
Vocaret aura, sive utrumque Iuppiter 20
Simul secundus incidisset in pedem;
Neque ulla vota litoralibus deis
Sibi esse facta, cum veniret a marei
Novissime hunc ad usque limpidum lacum.
Sed haec prius fuere: nunc recondita 25
Senet quiete seque dedicat tibi,
Gemelle Castor et gemelle Castoris.

IIII.

ON HIS PINNACE.

Yonder Pinnace ye (my guests! ) behold
Saith she was erstwhile fleetest-fleet of crafts,
Nor could by swiftness of aught plank that swims,
Be she outstripped, whether paddle plied,
Or fared she scudding under canvas-sail. 5
Eke she defieth threat'ning Adrian shore,
Dare not denay her, insular Cyclades,
And noble Rhodos and ferocious Thrace,
Propontis too and blustering Pontic bight.
Where she (my Pinnace now) in times before, 10
Was leafy woodling on Cytorean Chine
For ever loquent lisping with her leaves.
Pontic Amastris! Box-tree-clad Cytorus!
Cognisant were ye, and you weet full well
(So saith my Pinnace) how from earliest age 15
Upon your highmost-spiring peak she stood,
How in your waters first her sculls were dipt,
And thence thro' many and many an important strait
She bore her owner whether left or right,
Where breezes bade her fare, or Jupiter deigned 20
At once propitious strike the sail full square;
Nor to the sea-shore gods was aught of vow
By her deemed needful, when from Ocean's bourne
Extreme she voyaged for this limpid lake.
Yet were such things whilome: now she retired 25
In quiet age devotes herself to thee
(O twin-born Castor) twain with Castor's twin.

That pinnace which ye see, my friends, says that it was the speediest of
boats, nor any craft the surface skimming but it could gain the lead,
whether the course were gone o'er with plashing oars or bended sail. And
this the menacing Adriatic shores may not deny, nor may the Island
Cyclades, nor noble Rhodes and bristling Thrace, Propontis nor the gusty
Pontic gulf, where itself (afterwards a pinnace to become) erstwhile was a
foliaged clump; and oft on Cytorus' ridge hath this foliage announced
itself in vocal rustling. And to thee, Pontic Amastris, and to box-screened
Cytorus, the pinnace vows that this was alway and yet is of common
knowledge most notorious; states that from its primal being it stood upon
thy topmost peak, dipped its oars in thy waters, and bore its master thence
through surly seas of number frequent, whether the wind whistled 'gainst
the starboard quarter or the lee or whether Jove propitious fell on both
the sheets at once; nor any vows [from stress of storm] to shore-gods were
ever made by it when coming from the uttermost seas unto this glassy lake.
But these things were of time gone by: now laid away, it rusts in peace and
dedicates its age to thee, twin Castor, and to Castor's twin.

V.

Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
Rumoresque senum severiorum
Omnes unius aestimemus assis.
Soles occidere et redire possunt:
Nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux, 5
Nox est perpetua una dormienda.
Da mi basia mille, deinde centum,
Dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,
Deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum.
Dein, cum milia multa fecerimus, 10
Conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,
Aut nequis malus invidere possit,
Cum tantum sciet esse basiorum.

V.

TO LESBIA, (OF LESBOS--CLODIA? )

Love we (my Lesbia! ) and live we our day,
While all stern sayings crabbed sages say,
At one doit's value let us price and prize!
The Suns can westward sink again to rise
But we, extinguished once our tiny light, 5
Perforce shall slumber through one lasting night!
Kiss me a thousand times, then hundred more,
Then thousand others, then a new five-score,
Still other thousand other hundred store.
Last when the sums to many thousands grow, 10
The tale let's trouble till no more we know,
Nor envious wight despiteful shall misween us
Knowing how many kisses have been kissed between us.

Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love, and count all the mumblings of
sour age at a penny's fee. Suns set can rise again: we when once our brief
light has set must sleep through a perpetual night. Give me of kisses a
thousand, and then a hundred, then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then another thousand without resting, then a hundred. Then, when we have
made many thousands, we will confuse the count lest we know the numbering,
so that no wretch may be able to envy us through knowledge of our kisses'
number.

VI.

Flavi, delicias tuas Catullo,
Nei sint inlepidae atque inelegantes,
Velles dicere, nec tacere posses.
Verum nescioquid febriculosi
Scorti diligis: hoc pudet fateri. 5
Nam te non viduas iacere noctes
Nequiquam tacitum cubile clamat
Sertis ac Syrio fragrans olivo,
Pulvinusque peraeque et hic et ille
Attritus, tremulique quassa lecti 10
Argutatio inambulatioque.
Nam nil stupra valet, nihil, tacere.
Cur? non tam latera ecfututa pandas,
Nei tu quid facias ineptiarum.
Quare quidquid habes boni malique, 15
Dic nobis. volo te ac tuos amores
Ad caelum lepido vocare versu.

VI.

TO FLAVIUS: MIS-SPEAKING HIS MISTRESS.

Thy Charmer (Flavius! ) to Catullus' ear
Were she not manner'd mean and worst in wit
Perforce thou hadst praised nor couldst silence keep.
But some enfevered jade, I wot-not-what,
Some piece thou lovest, blushing this to own. 5
For, nowise 'customed widower nights to lie
Thou 'rt ever summoned by no silent bed
With flow'r-wreaths fragrant and with Syrian oil,
By mattress, bolsters, here, there, everywhere
Deep-dinted, and by quaking, shaking couch 10
All crepitation and mobility.
Explain! none whoredoms (no! ) shall close my lips.
Why? such outfuttered flank thou ne'er wouldst show
Had not some fulsome work by thee been wrought.
Then what thou holdest, boon or bane be pleased 15
Disclose! For thee and thy beloved fain would I
Upraise to Heaven with my liveliest lay.

O Flavius, of thy sweetheart to Catullus thou would'st speak, nor could'st
thou keep silent, were she not both ill-mannered and ungraceful. In truth
thou affectest I know not what hot-blooded whore: this thou art ashamed to
own. For that thou dost not lie alone a-nights thy couch, fragrant with
garlands and Syrian unguent, in no way mute cries out, and eke the pillow
and bolsters indented here and there, and the creakings and joggings of the
quivering bed: unless thou canst silence these, nothing and again nothing
avails thee to hide thy whoredoms. And why? Thou wouldst not display such
drained flanks unless occupied in some tomfoolery. Wherefore, whatsoever
thou hast, be it good or ill, tell us! I wish to laud thee and thy loves to
the sky in joyous verse.

VII.

Quaeris, quot mihi basiationes
Tuae, Lesbia, sint satis superque.
Quam magnus numerus Libyssae arenae
Lasarpiciferis iacet Cyrenis,
Oraclum Iovis inter aestuosi 5
Et Batti veteris sacrum sepulcrum,
Aut quam sidera multa, cum tacet nox,
Furtivos hominum vident amores,
Tam te basia multa basiare
Vesano satis et super Catullost, 10
Quae nec pernumerare curiosi
Possint nec mala fascinare lingua.

VII.

TO LESBIA STILL BELOVED.

Thou ask'st How many kissing bouts I bore
From thee (my Lesbia! ) or be enough or more?
I say what mighty sum of Lybian-sands
Confine Cyrene's Laserpitium-lands
'Twixt Oracle of Jove the Swelterer 5
And olden Battus' holy Sepulchre,
Or stars innumerate through night-stillness ken
The stolen Love-delights of mortal men,
For that to kiss thee with unending kisses
For mad Catullus enough and more be this, 10
Kisses nor curious wight shall count their tale,
Nor to bewitch us evil tongue avail.

Thou askest, how many kisses of thine, Lesbia, may be enough and to spare
for me. As the countless Libyan sands which strew the spicy strand of
Cyrene 'twixt the oracle of swelt'ring Jove and the sacred sepulchre of
ancient Battus, or as the thronging stars which in the hush of darkness
witness the furtive loves of mortals, to kiss thee with kisses of so great
a number is enough and to spare for passion-driven Catullus: so many that
prying eyes may not avail to number, nor ill tongues to ensorcel.

VIII.

Miser Catulle, desinas ineptire,
Et quod vides perisse perditum ducas.
Fulsere quondam candidi tibi soles,
Cum ventitabas quo puella ducebat
Amata nobis quantum amabitur nulla. 5
Ibi illa multa tum iocosa fiebant,
Quae tu volebas nec puella nolebat.
Fulsere vere candidi tibi soles.
Nunc iam illa non vult: tu quoque, inpotens, noli
Nec quae fugit sectare, nec miser vive, 10
Sed obstinata mente perfer, obdura.
Vale, puella. iam Catullus obdurat,
Nec te requiret nec rogabit invitam:
At tu dolebis, cum rogaberis nulla.
Scelesta, vae te! quae tibi manet vita! 15
Quis nunc te adibit? cui videberis bella?
Quem nunc amabis? cuius esse diceris?
Quem basiabis? cui labella mordebis?
At tu, Catulle, destinatus obdura.

VIII.

TO HIMSELF RECOUNTING LESBIA'S INCONSTANCY.

Woe-full Catullus! cease to play the fool
And what thou seest dead as dead regard!
Whilome the sheeniest suns for thee did shine
When oft-a-tripping whither led the girl
By us beloved, as shall none be loved. 5
There all so merry doings then were done
After thy liking, nor the girl was loath.
Then certes sheeniest suns for thee did shine.
Now she's unwilling: thou too (hapless! ) will
Her flight to follow, and sad life to live: 10
Endure with stubborn soul and still obdure.
Damsel, adieu! Catullus obdurate grown
Nor seeks thee, neither asks of thine unwill;
Yet shalt thou sorrow when none woos thee more;
Reprobate! Woe to thee! What life remains? 15
Who now shall love thee? Who'll think thee fair?
Whom now shalt ever love? Whose wilt be called?
To whom shalt kisses give? whose liplets nip?
But thou (Catullus! ) destiny-doomed obdure.

Unhappy Catullus, cease thy trifling and what thou seest lost know to be
lost. Once bright days used to shine on thee when thou wert wont to haste
whither thy girl didst lead thee, loved by us as never girl will e'er be
loved. There those many joys were joyed which thou didst wish, nor was the
girl unwilling. In truth bright days used once to shine on thee. Now she no
longer wishes: thou too, powerless to avail, must be unwilling, nor pursue
the retreating one, nor live unhappy, but with firm-set mind endure, steel
thyself. Farewell, girl, now Catullus steels himself, seeks thee not, nor
entreats thy acquiescence. But thou wilt pine, when thou hast no entreaty
proffered. Faithless, go thy way! what manner of life remaineth to thee?
who now will visit thee? who find thee beautiful? whom wilt thou love now?
whose girl wilt thou be called? whom wilt thou kiss? whose lips wilt thou
bite? But thou, Catullus, remain hardened as steel.

VIIII.

Verani, omnibus e meis amicis
Antistans mihi milibus trecentis,
Venistine domum ad tuos Penates
Fratresque unanimos anumque matrem?
Venisti. o mihi nuntii beati! 5
Visam te incolumem audiamque Hiberum
Narrantem loca, facta, nationes,
Vt mos est tuus, adplicansque collum
Iocundum os oculosque suaviabor.
O quantumst hominum beatiorum, 10
Quid me laetius est beatiusve?

VIIII.

TO VERANIUS RETURNED FROM TRAVEL.

Veranius! over every friend of me
Forestanding, owned I hundred thousands three,
Home to Penates and to single-soul'd
Brethren, returned art thou and mother old?
Yes, thou art come. Oh, winsome news come well! 5
Now shall I see thee, safely hear thee tell
Of sites Iberian, deeds and nations 'spied,
(As be thy wont) and neck-a-neck applied
I'll greet with kisses thy glad lips and eyne.
Oh! Of all mortal men beatified 10
Whose joy and gladness greater be than mine?

Veranius, of all my friends standing in the front, owned I three hundred
thousands of them, hast thou come home to thy Penates, thy longing brothers
and thine aged mother? Thou hast come back.
my pet's delicious joy,
Wherewith in bosom nurst to toy
She loves, and gives her finger-tip
For sharp-nib'd greeding neb to nip,
Were she who my desire withstood 5
To seek some pet of merry mood,
As crumb o' comfort for her grief,
Methinks her burning lowe's relief:
Could I, as plays she, play with thee,
That mind might win from misery free! 10
* * * *
To me t'were grateful (as they say),
Gold codling was to fleet-foot May,
Whose long-bound zone it loosed for aye.

Sparrow, petling of my girl, with which she wantons, which she presses to
her bosom, and whose eager peckings is accustomed to incite by stretching
forth her forefinger, when my bright-hued beautiful one is pleased to jest
in manner light as (perchance) a solace for her heart ache, thus methinks
she allays love's pressing heats! Would that in manner like, I were able
with thee to sport and sad cares of mind to lighten!

* * * *

This were gracious to me as in story old to the maiden fleet of foot was
the apple golden-fashioned which unloosed her girdle long-time girt.

III.

Lugete, o Veneres Cupidinesque,
Et quantumst hominum venustiorum.
Passer mortuus est meae puellae,
Passer, deliciae meae puellae,
Quem plus illa oculis suis amabat: 5
Nam mellitus erat suamque norat
Ipsa tam bene quam puella matrem
Nec sese a gremio illius movebat,
Sed circumsiliens modo huc modo illuc
Ad solam dominam usque pipiabat. 10
Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum
Illuc, unde negant redire quemquam.
At vobis male sit, malae tenebrae
Orci, quae omnia bella devoratis:
Tam bellum mihi passerem abstulistis. 15
O factum male! io miselle passer!
Tua nunc opera meae puellae
Flendo turgiduli rubent ocelli.

III.

ON THE DEATH OF LESBIA'S SPARROW.

Weep every Venus, and all Cupids wail,
And men whose gentler spirits still prevail.
Dead is the Sparrow of my girl, the joy,
Sparrow, my sweeting's most delicious toy,
Whom loved she dearer than her very eyes; 5
For he was honeyed-pet and anywise
Knew her, as even she her mother knew;
Ne'er from her bosom's harbourage he flew
But 'round her hopping here, there, everywhere,
Piped he to none but her his lady fair. 10
Now must he wander o'er the darkling way
Thither, whence life-return the Fates denay.
But ah! beshrew you, evil Shadows low'ring
In Orcus ever loveliest things devouring:
Who bore so pretty a Sparrow fro' her ta'en. 15
(Oh hapless birdie and Oh deed of bane! )
Now by your wanton work my girl appears
With turgid eyelids tinted rose by tears.

Mourn ye, O ye Loves and Cupids and all men of gracious mind. Dead is the
sparrow of my girl, sparrow, sweetling of my girl. Which more than her eyes
she loved; for sweet as honey was it and its mistress knew, as well as
damsel knoweth her own mother nor from her bosom did it rove, but hopping
round first one side then the other, to its mistress alone it evermore did
chirp. Now does it fare along that path of shadows whence naught may e'er
return. Ill be to ye, savage glooms of Orcus, which swallow up all things
of fairness: which have snatched away from me the comely sparrow. O deed of
bale! O sparrow sad of plight! Now on thy account my girl's sweet eyes,
swollen, do redden with tear-drops.

IIII.

Phaselus ille, quem videtis, hospites,
Ait fuisse navium celerrimus,
Neque ullius natantis impetum trabis
Nequisse praeter ire, sive palmulis
Opus foret volare sive linteo. 5
Et hoc negat minacis Adriatici
Negare litus insulasve Cycladas
Rhodumque nobilem horridamque Thraciam
Propontida trucemve Ponticum sinum,
Vbi iste post phaselus antea fuit 10
Comata silva: nam Cytorio in iugo
Loquente saepe sibilum edidit coma.
Amastri Pontica et Cytore buxifer,
Tibi haec fuisse et esse cognitissima
Ait phaselus: ultima ex origine 15
Tuo stetisse dicit in cacumine,
Tuo imbuisse palmulas in aequore,
Et inde tot per inpotentia freta
Erum tulisse, laeva sive dextera
Vocaret aura, sive utrumque Iuppiter 20
Simul secundus incidisset in pedem;
Neque ulla vota litoralibus deis
Sibi esse facta, cum veniret a marei
Novissime hunc ad usque limpidum lacum.
Sed haec prius fuere: nunc recondita 25
Senet quiete seque dedicat tibi,
Gemelle Castor et gemelle Castoris.

IIII.

ON HIS PINNACE.

Yonder Pinnace ye (my guests! ) behold
Saith she was erstwhile fleetest-fleet of crafts,
Nor could by swiftness of aught plank that swims,
Be she outstripped, whether paddle plied,
Or fared she scudding under canvas-sail. 5
Eke she defieth threat'ning Adrian shore,
Dare not denay her, insular Cyclades,
And noble Rhodos and ferocious Thrace,
Propontis too and blustering Pontic bight.
Where she (my Pinnace now) in times before, 10
Was leafy woodling on Cytorean Chine
For ever loquent lisping with her leaves.
Pontic Amastris! Box-tree-clad Cytorus!
Cognisant were ye, and you weet full well
(So saith my Pinnace) how from earliest age 15
Upon your highmost-spiring peak she stood,
How in your waters first her sculls were dipt,
And thence thro' many and many an important strait
She bore her owner whether left or right,
Where breezes bade her fare, or Jupiter deigned 20
At once propitious strike the sail full square;
Nor to the sea-shore gods was aught of vow
By her deemed needful, when from Ocean's bourne
Extreme she voyaged for this limpid lake.
Yet were such things whilome: now she retired 25
In quiet age devotes herself to thee
(O twin-born Castor) twain with Castor's twin.

That pinnace which ye see, my friends, says that it was the speediest of
boats, nor any craft the surface skimming but it could gain the lead,
whether the course were gone o'er with plashing oars or bended sail. And
this the menacing Adriatic shores may not deny, nor may the Island
Cyclades, nor noble Rhodes and bristling Thrace, Propontis nor the gusty
Pontic gulf, where itself (afterwards a pinnace to become) erstwhile was a
foliaged clump; and oft on Cytorus' ridge hath this foliage announced
itself in vocal rustling. And to thee, Pontic Amastris, and to box-screened
Cytorus, the pinnace vows that this was alway and yet is of common
knowledge most notorious; states that from its primal being it stood upon
thy topmost peak, dipped its oars in thy waters, and bore its master thence
through surly seas of number frequent, whether the wind whistled 'gainst
the starboard quarter or the lee or whether Jove propitious fell on both
the sheets at once; nor any vows [from stress of storm] to shore-gods were
ever made by it when coming from the uttermost seas unto this glassy lake.
But these things were of time gone by: now laid away, it rusts in peace and
dedicates its age to thee, twin Castor, and to Castor's twin.

V.

Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
Rumoresque senum severiorum
Omnes unius aestimemus assis.
Soles occidere et redire possunt:
Nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux, 5
Nox est perpetua una dormienda.
Da mi basia mille, deinde centum,
Dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,
Deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum.
Dein, cum milia multa fecerimus, 10
Conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,
Aut nequis malus invidere possit,
Cum tantum sciet esse basiorum.

V.

TO LESBIA, (OF LESBOS--CLODIA? )

Love we (my Lesbia! ) and live we our day,
While all stern sayings crabbed sages say,
At one doit's value let us price and prize!
The Suns can westward sink again to rise
But we, extinguished once our tiny light, 5
Perforce shall slumber through one lasting night!
Kiss me a thousand times, then hundred more,
Then thousand others, then a new five-score,
Still other thousand other hundred store.
Last when the sums to many thousands grow, 10
The tale let's trouble till no more we know,
Nor envious wight despiteful shall misween us
Knowing how many kisses have been kissed between us.

Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love, and count all the mumblings of
sour age at a penny's fee. Suns set can rise again: we when once our brief
light has set must sleep through a perpetual night. Give me of kisses a
thousand, and then a hundred, then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then another thousand without resting, then a hundred. Then, when we have
made many thousands, we will confuse the count lest we know the numbering,
so that no wretch may be able to envy us through knowledge of our kisses'
number.

VI.

Flavi, delicias tuas Catullo,
Nei sint inlepidae atque inelegantes,
Velles dicere, nec tacere posses.
Verum nescioquid febriculosi
Scorti diligis: hoc pudet fateri. 5
Nam te non viduas iacere noctes
Nequiquam tacitum cubile clamat
Sertis ac Syrio fragrans olivo,
Pulvinusque peraeque et hic et ille
Attritus, tremulique quassa lecti 10
Argutatio inambulatioque.
Nam nil stupra valet, nihil, tacere.
Cur? non tam latera ecfututa pandas,
Nei tu quid facias ineptiarum.
Quare quidquid habes boni malique, 15
Dic nobis. volo te ac tuos amores
Ad caelum lepido vocare versu.

VI.

TO FLAVIUS: MIS-SPEAKING HIS MISTRESS.

Thy Charmer (Flavius! ) to Catullus' ear
Were she not manner'd mean and worst in wit
Perforce thou hadst praised nor couldst silence keep.
But some enfevered jade, I wot-not-what,
Some piece thou lovest, blushing this to own. 5
For, nowise 'customed widower nights to lie
Thou 'rt ever summoned by no silent bed
With flow'r-wreaths fragrant and with Syrian oil,
By mattress, bolsters, here, there, everywhere
Deep-dinted, and by quaking, shaking couch 10
All crepitation and mobility.
Explain! none whoredoms (no! ) shall close my lips.
Why? such outfuttered flank thou ne'er wouldst show
Had not some fulsome work by thee been wrought.
Then what thou holdest, boon or bane be pleased 15
Disclose! For thee and thy beloved fain would I
Upraise to Heaven with my liveliest lay.

O Flavius, of thy sweetheart to Catullus thou would'st speak, nor could'st
thou keep silent, were she not both ill-mannered and ungraceful. In truth
thou affectest I know not what hot-blooded whore: this thou art ashamed to
own. For that thou dost not lie alone a-nights thy couch, fragrant with
garlands and Syrian unguent, in no way mute cries out, and eke the pillow
and bolsters indented here and there, and the creakings and joggings of the
quivering bed: unless thou canst silence these, nothing and again nothing
avails thee to hide thy whoredoms. And why? Thou wouldst not display such
drained flanks unless occupied in some tomfoolery. Wherefore, whatsoever
thou hast, be it good or ill, tell us! I wish to laud thee and thy loves to
the sky in joyous verse.

VII.

Quaeris, quot mihi basiationes
Tuae, Lesbia, sint satis superque.
Quam magnus numerus Libyssae arenae
Lasarpiciferis iacet Cyrenis,
Oraclum Iovis inter aestuosi 5
Et Batti veteris sacrum sepulcrum,
Aut quam sidera multa, cum tacet nox,
Furtivos hominum vident amores,
Tam te basia multa basiare
Vesano satis et super Catullost, 10
Quae nec pernumerare curiosi
Possint nec mala fascinare lingua.

VII.

TO LESBIA STILL BELOVED.

Thou ask'st How many kissing bouts I bore
From thee (my Lesbia! ) or be enough or more?
I say what mighty sum of Lybian-sands
Confine Cyrene's Laserpitium-lands
'Twixt Oracle of Jove the Swelterer 5
And olden Battus' holy Sepulchre,
Or stars innumerate through night-stillness ken
The stolen Love-delights of mortal men,
For that to kiss thee with unending kisses
For mad Catullus enough and more be this, 10
Kisses nor curious wight shall count their tale,
Nor to bewitch us evil tongue avail.

Thou askest, how many kisses of thine, Lesbia, may be enough and to spare
for me. As the countless Libyan sands which strew the spicy strand of
Cyrene 'twixt the oracle of swelt'ring Jove and the sacred sepulchre of
ancient Battus, or as the thronging stars which in the hush of darkness
witness the furtive loves of mortals, to kiss thee with kisses of so great
a number is enough and to spare for passion-driven Catullus: so many that
prying eyes may not avail to number, nor ill tongues to ensorcel.

VIII.

Miser Catulle, desinas ineptire,
Et quod vides perisse perditum ducas.
Fulsere quondam candidi tibi soles,
Cum ventitabas quo puella ducebat
Amata nobis quantum amabitur nulla. 5
Ibi illa multa tum iocosa fiebant,
Quae tu volebas nec puella nolebat.
Fulsere vere candidi tibi soles.
Nunc iam illa non vult: tu quoque, inpotens, noli
Nec quae fugit sectare, nec miser vive, 10
Sed obstinata mente perfer, obdura.
Vale, puella. iam Catullus obdurat,
Nec te requiret nec rogabit invitam:
At tu dolebis, cum rogaberis nulla.
Scelesta, vae te! quae tibi manet vita! 15
Quis nunc te adibit? cui videberis bella?
Quem nunc amabis? cuius esse diceris?
Quem basiabis? cui labella mordebis?
At tu, Catulle, destinatus obdura.

VIII.

TO HIMSELF RECOUNTING LESBIA'S INCONSTANCY.

Woe-full Catullus! cease to play the fool
And what thou seest dead as dead regard!
Whilome the sheeniest suns for thee did shine
When oft-a-tripping whither led the girl
By us beloved, as shall none be loved. 5
There all so merry doings then were done
After thy liking, nor the girl was loath.
Then certes sheeniest suns for thee did shine.
Now she's unwilling: thou too (hapless! ) will
Her flight to follow, and sad life to live: 10
Endure with stubborn soul and still obdure.
Damsel, adieu! Catullus obdurate grown
Nor seeks thee, neither asks of thine unwill;
Yet shalt thou sorrow when none woos thee more;
Reprobate! Woe to thee! What life remains? 15
Who now shall love thee? Who'll think thee fair?
Whom now shalt ever love? Whose wilt be called?
To whom shalt kisses give? whose liplets nip?
But thou (Catullus! ) destiny-doomed obdure.

Unhappy Catullus, cease thy trifling and what thou seest lost know to be
lost. Once bright days used to shine on thee when thou wert wont to haste
whither thy girl didst lead thee, loved by us as never girl will e'er be
loved. There those many joys were joyed which thou didst wish, nor was the
girl unwilling. In truth bright days used once to shine on thee. Now she no
longer wishes: thou too, powerless to avail, must be unwilling, nor pursue
the retreating one, nor live unhappy, but with firm-set mind endure, steel
thyself. Farewell, girl, now Catullus steels himself, seeks thee not, nor
entreats thy acquiescence. But thou wilt pine, when thou hast no entreaty
proffered. Faithless, go thy way! what manner of life remaineth to thee?
who now will visit thee? who find thee beautiful? whom wilt thou love now?
whose girl wilt thou be called? whom wilt thou kiss? whose lips wilt thou
bite? But thou, Catullus, remain hardened as steel.

VIIII.

Verani, omnibus e meis amicis
Antistans mihi milibus trecentis,
Venistine domum ad tuos Penates
Fratresque unanimos anumque matrem?
Venisti. o mihi nuntii beati! 5
Visam te incolumem audiamque Hiberum
Narrantem loca, facta, nationes,
Vt mos est tuus, adplicansque collum
Iocundum os oculosque suaviabor.
O quantumst hominum beatiorum, 10
Quid me laetius est beatiusve?

VIIII.

TO VERANIUS RETURNED FROM TRAVEL.

Veranius! over every friend of me
Forestanding, owned I hundred thousands three,
Home to Penates and to single-soul'd
Brethren, returned art thou and mother old?
Yes, thou art come. Oh, winsome news come well! 5
Now shall I see thee, safely hear thee tell
Of sites Iberian, deeds and nations 'spied,
(As be thy wont) and neck-a-neck applied
I'll greet with kisses thy glad lips and eyne.
Oh! Of all mortal men beatified 10
Whose joy and gladness greater be than mine?

Veranius, of all my friends standing in the front, owned I three hundred
thousands of them, hast thou come home to thy Penates, thy longing brothers
and thine aged mother? Thou hast come back. O joyful news to me! I may see
thee safe and sound, and may hear thee speak of regions, deeds, and peoples
Iberian, as is thy manner; and reclining o'er thy neck shall kiss thy
jocund mouth and eyes. O all ye blissfullest of men, who more gladsome or
more blissful is than I am?

X.

Varus me meus ad suos amores
Visum duxerat e foro otiosum,
Scortillum, ut mihi tum repente visumst,
Non sane inlepidum neque invenustum.
Huc ut venimus, incidere nobis 5
Sermones varii, in quibus, quid esset
Iam Bithynia, quo modo se haberet,
Ecquonam mihi profuisset aere.
Respondi id quod erat, nihil neque ipsis
Nec praetoribus esse nec cohorti, 10
Cur quisquam caput unctius referret,
Praesertim quibus esset inrumator
Praetor, non faciens pili cohortem.
'At certe tamen, inquiunt, quod illic
Natum dicitur esse, conparasti 15
Ad lecticam homines. ' ego, ut puellae
Vnum me facerem beatiorem,
'Non' inquam 'mihi tam fuit maligne,
Vt, provincia quod mala incidisset,
Non possem octo homines parare rectos. ' 20
At mi nullus erat nec hic neque illic,
Fractum qui veteris pedem grabati
In collo sibi collocare posset.
Hic illa, ut decuit cinaediorem,
'Quaeso' inquit 'mihi, mi Catulle, paulum 25
Istos. commode enim volo ad Sarapim
Deferri. ' 'minime' inquii puellae;
* * * *
'Istud quod modo dixeram me habere,
Fugit me ratio: meus sodalis
Cinnast Gaius, is sibi paravit. 30
Verum, utrum illius an mei, quid ad me?
Vtor tam bene quam mihi pararim.
Sed tu insulsa male ac molesta vivis,
Per quam non licet esse negligentem. '

X.

HE MEETS VARUS AND MISTRESS.

Led me my Varus to his flame,
As I from Forum idling came.
Forthright some whorelet judged I it
Nor lacking looks nor wanting wit,
When hied we thither, mid us three 5
Fell various talk, as how might be
Bithynia now, and how it fared,
And if some coin I made or spared.
"There was no cause" (I soothly said)
"The Praetors or the Cohort made 10
Thence to return with oilier head;
The more when ruled by ----
Praetor, as pile the Cohort rating. "
Quoth they, "But certes as 'twas there
The custom rose, some men to bear 15
Litter thou boughtest? " I to her
To seem but richer, wealthier,
Cry, "Nay, with me 'twas not so ill
That, given the Province suffered, still
Eight stiff-backed loons I could not buy. ' 20
(Withal none here nor there owned I
Who broken leg of Couch outworn
On nape of neck had ever borne! )
Then she, as pathic piece became,
"Prithee Catullus mine, those same 25
Lend me, Serapis-wards I'd hie. "
* * * *
"Easy, on no-wise, no," quoth I,
"Whate'er was mine, I lately said
Is some mistake, my camarade
One Cinna--Gaius--bought the lot, 30
But his or mine, it matters what?