Carmina

Catullus

Catullus, Gaius Valerius. The Carmina of Caius Valerius Catullus. Burton, Sir Richard Francis, translator. London, Printed for the Translators, 1894.

  1. For that my damsel, fro' my breast took flight,
  2. By me so lovèd, as shall loved be none,
  3. Wherefor so mighty wars were waged and won,
  4. Does sit in public here. Ye fain, rich wights,
  5. All woo her: thither too (the chief of slights !)
  6. All pitiful knaves and by-street wenchers fare,
  7. And thou, (than any worse), with hanging hair,
  8. In coney-breeding Celtiberia bred,
  9. Egnatius! bonnified by beard full-fed,
  10. And teeth with Spanish urine polishèd.
  1. Cornificius! 'Tis ill with thy Catullus,
  2. 'Tis ill (by Hercules) distressfully:
  3. Iller and iller every day and hour.
  4. Whose soul (as smallest boon and easiest)
  5. With what of comfort hast thou deign'd console?
  6. Wi' thee I'm angered! Dost so prize my love?
  7. Yet some consoling utterance had been well
  8. Though sadder 'twere than Simonídean tears.
  1. Egnatius for that owns he teeth snow-white,
  2. Grins ever, everywhere. When placed a wight
  3. In dock, when pleader would draw tears, the while
  4. He grins. When pious son at funeral pile
  6. Mourns, or lone mother sobs for sole lost son,
  7. He grins. Whate'er, whene'er, howe'er is done,
  8. Of deed he grins. Such be his malady,
  9. Nor kind, nor courteous-so beseemeth me—
  10. Then take thou good Egnatius, rede of mine!
  11. Wert Thou Corrupt Sabine Or A Tiburtine,
  12. Stuffed Umbrian or Tuscan overgrown
  13. Swarthy Lanuvian with his teeth-rows shown,
  14. Transpadan also, that mine own I touch,
  15. Or any washing teeth to shine o'er much,
  16. Yet thy incessant grin I would not see,
  17. For naught than laughter silly sillier be.
  18. Thou Celtiber art, in Celtiberia born,
  19. Where man who's urined therewith loves a-morn
  20. His teeth and ruddy gums to scour and score;
  21. So the more polisht are your teeth, the more
  22. Argue they sipping stale in ampler store.
  1. What thought of folly Rávidus (poor churl!)
  2. Upon my iambs thus would headlong hurl?
  3. What good or cunning counsellor would fain
  4. Urge thee to struggle in such strife insane?
  5. Is't that the vulgar mouth thy name by rote?
  6. What will'st thou? Wishest on any wise such note?
  7. Then shalt be noted since my love so lief
  8. For love thou sued'st to thy lasting grief.
  1. That Ametina, worn-out whore,
  2. Me for a myriad oft would bore,
  3. That strumpet of th' ignoble nose,
  4. To leman, rakehell Formian chose.
  5. An ye would guard her (kinsmen folk)
  6. Your friends and leaches d'ye convoke:
  7. The girl's not sound-sens'd; ask ye naught
  8. Of her complaint: she's love-distraught.
  1. Come, Hendecasyllabics, many as may
  2. All hither, every one that of you be!
  3. That fulsome harlot makes me laughing-stock
  4. And she refuses at our prayer restore
  5. Our stolen Note-books, an such slights ye bear.
  6. Let us pursue her clamouring our demands.
  7. "Who's she?" ye question: yonder one ye sight
  8. Mincingly pacing mime-like, perfect pest,
  9. With jaws wide grinning like a Gallic pup.
  10. Stand all round her dunning with demands,
  11. "Return (O rotten whore!) our noting books.
  12. Our noting books (O rotten whore!) return!"
  13. No doit thou car'st? O Mire! O Stuff O' stews!
  14. Or if aught fouler filthier dirt there be.
  15. Yet must we never think these words suffice.
  16. But if naught else avail, at least a blush
  17. Forth of that bitch-like brazen brow we'll squeeze.
  18. Cry all together in a higher key
  19. "Restore (O rotten whore!) our noting books,
  20. Our noting books (O rotten whore!) restore !"
  21. Still naught avails us, nothing is she moved.
  22. Now must our measures and our modes be changed
  23. An we would anywise our cause advance.
  24. "Restore (chaste, honest Maid!) our noting books!"
  1. Hail, girl who neither nose of minim size
  2. Owns, nor a pretty foot, nor jetty eyes,
  3. Nor thin long fingers, nor mouth dry of slaver
  4. Nor yet too graceful tongue of pleasant flavour,
  5. Leman to Formian that rake-a-hell.
  6. What, can the Province boast of thee as belle?
  7. Thee with my Lesbia durst it make compare?
  8. O Age insipid, of all humour bare!
  1. O Farm our own, Sabine or Tiburtine,
  2. (For style thee "Tiburs" Who have not at heart
  3. To hurt Catullus, whereas all that have
  4. Wage any Wager thou be Sabine classed)
  5. But whether Sabine or of Tiburs truer
  6. To thy suburban Cottage fared I fain
  7. And fro' my bronchials drave that cursèd cough
  8. Which not unmerited on me my maw,
  9. A-seeking sumptuous banquetings, bestowed.
  10. For I requesting to be Sestius' guest
  11. Read against claimant Antius a speech,
  12. Full-filled with poisonous pestilential trash.
  13. Hence a grave frigid rheum and frequent cough
  14. Shook me till fled I to thy bosom, where
  15. Repose and nettle-broth healed all my ills.