Carmina
Catullus
Catullus, Gaius Valerius. The Carmina of Caius Valerius Catullus. Burton, Sir Richard Francis, translator. London, Printed for the Translators, 1894.
- Even as she-mule casts iron shoe where quagmire is stiffest.
- This grove to thee devote I give, Priapus!
- Who home be Lampsacus and holt, Priapus!
- For thee in cities worship most the shores
- Of Hellespont the richest oystery strand.
- This place, O youths, I protect, nor less this turfbuilded cottage,
- Roofed with its osier-twigs and thatched with its bundles of sedges;
- I from the dried oak hewn and fashioned with rustical hatchet,
- Guarding them year by year while more are they evermore thriving.
- For here be owners twain who greet and worship my Godship,
- He of the poor hut lord and his son, the pair of them peasants:
- This with assiduous toil aye works the thicketty herbage
- And the coarse water-grass to clear afar from my chapel:
- That with his open hand ever brings me offerings humble.
- Hung up in honour mine are flowery firstlings of spring-tide,
- Wreaths with their ears still soft the tender stalklets a-crowning;
- Violets pale are mine by side of the poppy-head pallid;
- With the dull yellow gourd and apples sweetest of savour;
- Lastly the blushing grape disposed in shade of the vine-tree.
- Anon mine altar (this same) with blood (but you will be silent!)
- Bearded kid and anon some horny-hoofed nanny shall sprinkle.
- Wherefore Priapus is bound to requite such honours by service,
- Doing his duty to guard both vineyard and garth of his lordling.
- Here then, O lads, refrain from ill-mannered picking and stealing:
- Rich be the neighbour-hind and negligent eke his Priapus:
- Take what be his: this path hence leadeth straight to his ownings.
- I thuswise fashionèd by rustic art
- And from dried poplar-trunk (0 traveller!) hewn,
- This fieldlet, leftwards as thy glances fall,
- And my lord's cottage with his pauper garth
- Protect, repelling thieves' rapacious hands.
- In spring with vari-coloured wreaths I'm crown'd,
- In fervid summer with the glowing grain,
- Then with green vine-shoot and the luscious bunch,
- And glaucous olive-tree in bitter cold.
- The dainty she-goat from my pasture bears