Carmina

Perseus Latin · Perseus Latin · 2,080 sections

44.1
O Farm our own, Sabine or Tiburtine,
44.2
(For style thee Tiburs Who have not at heart
44.3
To hurt Catullus, whereas all that have
44.4
Wage any Wager thou be Sabine classed)
44.5
But whether Sabine or of Tiburs truer
44.6
To thy suburban Cottage fared I fain
44.7
And fro’ my bronchials drave that cursèd cough
44.8
Which not unmerited on me my maw,
44.9
A-seeking sumptuous banquetings, bestowed.
44.10
For I requesting to be Sestius’ guest
44.11
Read against claimant Antius a speech,
44.12
Full-filled with poisonous pestilential trash.
44.13
Hence a grave frigid rheum and frequent cough
44.14
Shook me till fled I to thy bosom, where
44.15
Repose and nettle-broth healed all my ills.
44.16
Wherefore recruited now best thanks I give
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To thee for nowise punishing my sins:
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Nor do I now object if noisome writs
44.19
Of Sestius hear I, but that cold and cough
44.20
And rheum may plague, not me, but Sestius’ self
44.21
Who asks me only his ill writs to read.
45.1
To Acmé quoth Septumius who his fere
45.2
Held on his bosom—Acmé, mine! next year,
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Unless I love thee fondlier than before,
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And with each twelve month love thee more and more,
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As much as lover’s life can slay with yearning,
45.6
Alone in Lybia, or Hind’s clime a-burning,
45.7
Be mine to encounter Lion grisly-eyed!
45.8
While he was speaking Love on leftward side
45.9
(As wont) approving sneeze from dextral sped.
45.10
But Acmé backwards gently bending head,
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And the love-drunken eyes of her sweet boy
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Kissing with yonder rosy mouth, My joy,
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She murmured, my life-love Septumillus mine!
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Unto one master’s hest let’s aye incline,
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As burns with fuller and with fiercer fire
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In my soft marrow set, this love-desire!
45.17
While she was speaking, Love from leftward side
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(As wont) with sneeze approving rightwards hied.
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Now with boon omens wafted on their way,
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In mutual fondness, love and loved are they.
45.21
Love-sick Septumius holds one Acmé’s love,
45.22
Of Syrias or either Britains high above,
45.23
Acmé to one Septumius full of faith
45.24
Her love and love-liesse surrendereth.
45.25
Who e’er saw mortals happier than these two?
45.26
Who e’er a better omened Venus knew?
46.1
Now Spring his cooly mildness brings us back,
46.2
Now th’ equinoctial heaven’s rage and wrack
46.3
Hushes at hest of Zephyr’s bonny breeze.
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Far left (Catullus!) be the Phrygian leas
46.5
And summery Nicaea’s fertile downs:
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Fly we to Asia’s fame-illumined towns.
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Now lust my fluttering thoughts for wayfare long,
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Now my glad eager feet grow steady, strong.
46.9
O fare ye well, my comrades, pleasant throng,
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Ye who together far from homesteads flying,
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By many various ways come homewards hieing.
47.1
Porcius and Socration, pair sinister
47.2
Of Piso, scabs and starvelings of the world,
47.3
You to Fabúllus and my Verianiólus,
47.4
Hath dared yon snipt Priapus to prefer?
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Upon rich banquets sumptuously spread
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Still gorge you daily while my comrades must
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Go seek invitals where the three roads fork?
48.1
Those honied eyes of thine (Juventius!)
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If any suffer me sans stint to buss,
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I’d kiss of kisses hundred thousands three,
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Nor ever deem I’d reach satiety,
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Not albe denser than dried wheat-ears show
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The kissing harvests our embraces grow.
49.1
Most eloquent ’mid race of Romulus>
49.2
That is or ever was (Marc Tullius!)
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Or in the coming years the light shall see,
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His thanks, the warmest, offers unto thee
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Catullus, poet sorriest that be,
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And by such measure poet sorriest,
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As thou of pleaders art the bestest best.
50.1
Idly (Licinius!) we our yesterday,
50.2
Played with my tablets much as pleased us play,
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In mode becoming souls of dainty strain.
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Inditing verses either of us twain
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Now in one measure then in other line
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We rang the changes amid wit and wine.
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Then fared I homewards by thy fun so fired
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And by thy jests (Licinius!) so inspired,
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Nor food my hapless appetite availed
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Nor sleep in quiet rest my eyelids veiled,
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But o’er the bedstead wild in furious plight
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I tossed a-longing to behold the light,
50.13
So I might talk wi’ thee, and be wi’ thee.
50.14
But when these wearied limbs from labour free
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Were on my couchlet strewn half-dead to lie,
50.16
For thee (sweet wag!) this poem for thee wrote I,
50.17
Whereby thou mete and weet my cark and care.
50.18
Now be not over-bold, nor this our prayer
50.19
Outspit thou (apple of mine eyes !): we pray
50.20
Lest doom thee Nemesis hard pain repay:—
50.21
She’s a dire Goddess, ’ware thou cross her way.
51.1
Peer of a God meseemeth he,

Perseus Latin. CTS URN phi0472.phi001.perseus-eng3. Via the Perseus Digital Library / Open Greek and Latin TEI corpora. Licence: Available under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. Source.