Carmina

Perseus Latin · Perseus Latin · 2,080 sections

36.18
But do ye meanwhile to the fire be brought,
36.19
That teem with boorish jest of sorry blade,
36.20
Volusius’ Annals, paper scum-bewrayed.
37.1
Salacious Tavern and ye taverner-host,
37.2
From Pileate Brothers the ninth pile-post,
37.3
D’ye claim, you only of the, mentule boast,
37.4
D’ye claim alone what damsels be the best
37.5
To swive: as he-goats holding all the rest?
37.6
Is’t when like boobies sit ye incontinent here,
37.7
One or two hundred, deem ye that I fear
37.8
Two hundred at one brunt?
37.9
Ay, think so, natheless all your tavern-front
37.10
With many a scorpion I will over-write.
37.11
For that my damsel, fro’ my breast took flight,
37.12
By me so lovèd, as shall loved be none,
37.13
Wherefor so mighty wars were waged and won,
37.14
Does sit in public here. Ye fain, rich wights,
37.15
All woo her: thither too (the chief of slights !)
37.16
All pitiful knaves and by-street wenchers fare,
37.17
And thou, (than any worse), with hanging hair,
37.18
In coney-breeding Celtiberia bred,
37.19
Egnatius! bonnified by beard full-fed,
37.20
And teeth with Spanish urine polishèd.
38.1
Cornificius! ’Tis ill with thy Catullus,
38.2
’Tis ill (by Hercules) distressfully:
38.3
Iller and iller every day and hour.
38.4
Whose soul (as smallest boon and easiest)
38.5
With what of comfort hast thou deign’d console?
38.6
Wi’ thee I’m angered! Dost so prize my love?
38.7
Yet some consoling utterance had been well
38.8
Though sadder ’twere than Simonídean tears.
39.1
Egnatius for that owns he teeth snow-white,
39.2
Grins ever, everywhere. When placed a wight
39.3
In dock, when pleader would draw tears, the while
39.4
He grins. When pious son at funeral pile
39.5+1
Mourns, or lone mother sobs for sole lost son,
39.6
He grins. Whate’er, whene’er, howe’er is done,
39.7
Of deed he grins. Such be his malady,
39.8
Nor kind, nor courteous-so beseemeth me—
39.9
Then take thou good Egnatius, rede of mine!
39.10
Wert Thou Corrupt Sabine Or A Tiburtine,
39.11
Stuffed Umbrian or Tuscan overgrown
39.12
Swarthy Lanuvian with his teeth-rows shown,
39.13
Transpadan also, that mine own I touch,
39.14
Or any washing teeth to shine o’er much,
39.15
Yet thy incessant grin I would not see,
39.16
For naught than laughter silly sillier be.
39.17
Thou Celtiber art, in Celtiberia born,
39.18
Where man who’s urined therewith loves a-morn
39.19
His teeth and ruddy gums to scour and score;
39.20
So the more polisht are your teeth, the more
39.21
Argue they sipping stale in ampler store.
40.1
What thought of folly Rávidus (poor churl!)
40.2
Upon my iambs thus would headlong hurl?
40.3
What good or cunning counsellor would fain
40.4
Urge thee to struggle in such strife insane?
40.5
Is’t that the vulgar mouth thy name by rote?
40.6
What will’st thou? Wishest on any wise such note?
40.7
Then shalt be noted since my love so lief
40.8
For love thou sued’st to thy lasting grief.
41.1
That Ametina, worn-out whore,
41.2
Me for a myriad oft would bore,
41.3
That strumpet of th’ ignoble nose,
41.4
To leman, rakehell Formian chose.
41.5
An ye would guard her (kinsmen folk)
41.6
Your friends and leaches d’ye convoke:
41.7
The girl’s not sound-sens’d; ask ye naught
41.8
Of her complaint: she’s love-distraught.
42.1
Come, Hendecasyllabics, many as may
42.2
All hither, every one that of you be!
42.3
That fulsome harlot makes me laughing-stock
42.4
And she refuses at our prayer restore
42.5
Our stolen Note-books, an such slights ye bear.
42.6
Let us pursue her clamouring our demands.
42.7
Who’s she? ye question: yonder one ye sight
42.8
Mincingly pacing mime-like, perfect pest,
42.9
With jaws wide grinning like a Gallic pup.
42.10
Stand all round her dunning with demands,
42.11
Return (O rotten whore!) our noting books.
42.12
Our noting books (O rotten whore!) return!
42.13
No doit thou car’st? O Mire! O Stuff O’ stews!
42.14
Or if aught fouler filthier dirt there be.
42.15
Yet must we never think these words suffice.
42.16
But if naught else avail, at least a blush
42.17
Forth of that bitch-like brazen brow we’ll squeeze.
42.18
Cry all together in a higher key
42.19
Restore (O rotten whore!) our noting books,
42.20
Our noting books (O rotten whore!) restore!
42.21
Still naught avails us, nothing is she moved.
42.22
Now must our measures and our modes be changed
42.23
An we would anywise our cause advance.
42.24
Restore (chaste, honest Maid!) our noting books!
43.1
Hail, girl who neither nose of minim size
43.2
Owns, nor a pretty foot, nor jetty eyes,
43.3
Nor thin long fingers, nor mouth dry of slaver
43.4
Nor yet too graceful tongue of pleasant flavour,
43.5
Leman to Formian that rake-a-hell.
43.6
What, can the Province boast of thee as belle?
43.7
Thee with my Lesbia durst it make compare?
43.8
O Age insipid, of all humour bare!

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