Priapeia
Priaepia
by divers poets in English verse and prose. Translated by Sir Richard Burton and Leonard C. Smithers
- Or thirsty raven e'er endamagèd.
- No! but from bearing scribblers' rubbish verse
- On labouring branches comes mine every woe.
- Sleep, O ye watchdogs! safe, while aid in guarding the garden
- Lover his leman beloved, Seirius Erigone.
- 'Tis not enough, my friends, I set my seat
- Where earth gapes chinky under Canicule,
- Ever enduring thirsty summer's drought.
- 'Tis not enough the showers flow down my breast
- And beat the hail-storms on my naked hair,
- With beard fast frozen, rigid by the rime.
- 'Tis not enough that days in labour spent
- Sleepless I lengthen through the nights as long.
- Add that a godhead terrible of staff
- Hewed me the rustic's rude unartful hand
- And made me vilest of all deities,
- Invoked as wooden guardian of the gourds.
- And more, for shameless note to me was 'signed
- With lustful nerve a pyramid distent,
- Whereto a damsel (whom well nigh I'd named)