The Carmina of Caius Valerius Catullus | Page 7

pandas,
Nei tu quid facias ineptiarum.

Quare quidquid habes boni malique, 15 Dic nobis. volo te ac tuos
amores
Ad caelum lepido vocare versu.
VI.
TO FLAVIUS: MIS-SPEAKING HIS MISTRESS.
Thy Charmer (Flavius!) to Catullus' ear
Were she not manner'd mean
and worst in wit
Perforce thou hadst praised nor couldst silence keep.

But some enfevered jade, I wot-not-what,
Some piece thou lovest,
blushing this to own. 5 For, nowise 'customed widower nights to lie

Thou 'rt ever summoned by no silent bed
With flow'r-wreaths
fragrant and with Syrian oil,
By mattress, bolsters, here, there,
everywhere
Deep-dinted, and by quaking, shaking couch 10 All
crepitation and mobility.
Explain! none whoredoms (no!) shall close
my lips.
Why? such outfuttered flank thou ne'er wouldst show
Had
not some fulsome work by thee been wrought.
Then what thou
holdest, boon or bane be pleased 15 Disclose! For thee and thy beloved
fain would I
Upraise to Heaven with my liveliest lay.
O Flavius, of thy sweetheart to Catullus thou would'st speak, nor
could'st thou keep silent, were she not both ill-mannered and
ungraceful. In truth thou affectest I know not what hot-blooded whore:
this thou art ashamed to own. For that thou dost not lie alone a-nights
thy couch, fragrant with garlands and Syrian unguent, in no way mute
cries out, and eke the pillow and bolsters indented here and there, and
the creakings and joggings of the quivering bed: unless thou canst
silence these, nothing and again nothing avails thee to hide thy
whoredoms. And why? Thou wouldst not display such drainèd flanks
unless occupied in some tomfoolery. Wherefore, whatsoever thou hast,
be it good or ill, tell us! I wish to laud thee and thy loves to the sky in
joyous verse.

VII.
Quaeris, quot mihi basiationes
Tuae, Lesbia, sint satis superque.

Quam magnus numerus Libyssae arenae
Lasarpiciferis iacet Cyrenis,

Oraclum Iovis inter aestuosi 5 Et Batti veteris sacrum sepulcrum,

Aut quam sidera multa, cum tacet nox,
Furtivos hominum vident
amores,
Tam te basia multa basiare
Vesano satis et super Catullost,
10 Quae nec pernumerare curiosi
Possint nec mala fascinare lingua.
VII.
TO LESBIA STILL BELOVED.
Thou ask'st How many kissing bouts I bore
From thee (my Lesbia!)
or be enough or more?
I say what mighty sum of Lybian-sands

Confine Cyrene's Laserpitium-lands
'Twixt Oracle of Jove the
Swelterer 5 And olden Battus' holy Sepulchre,
Or stars innumerate
through night-stillness ken
The stolen Love-delights of mortal men,

For that to kiss thee with unending kisses
For mad Catullus enough
and more be this, 10 Kisses nor curious wight shall count their tale,

Nor to bewitch us evil tongue avail.
Thou askest, how many kisses of thine, Lesbia, may be enough and to
spare for me. As the countless Libyan sands which strew the spicy
strand of Cyrene 'twixt the oracle of swelt'ring Jove and the sacred
sepulchre of ancient Battus, or as the thronging stars which in the hush
of darkness witness the furtive loves of mortals, to kiss thee with kisses
of so great a number is enough and to spare for passion-driven Catullus:
so many that prying eyes may not avail to number, nor ill tongues to
ensorcel.
VIII.
Miser Catulle, desinas ineptire,
Et quod vides perisse perditum ducas.

Fulsere quondam candidi tibi soles,
Cum ventitabas quo puella
ducebat
Amata nobis quantum amabitur nulla. 5 Ibi illa multa tum

iocosa fiebant,
Quae tu volebas nec puella nolebat.
Fulsere vere
candidi tibi soles.
Nunc iam illa non vult: tu quoque, inpotens, noli

Nec quae fugit sectare, nec miser vive, 10 Sed obstinata mente perfer,
obdura.
Vale, puella. iam Catullus obdurat,
Nec te requiret nec
rogabit invitam:
At tu dolebis, cum rogaberis nulla.
Scelesta, vae te!
quae tibi manet vita! 15 Quis nunc te adibit? cui videberis bella?

Quem nunc amabis? cuius esse diceris?
Quem basiabis? cui labella
mordebis?
At tu, Catulle, destinatus obdura.
VIII.
TO HIMSELF RECOUNTING LESBIA'S INCONSTANCY.
Woe-full Catullus! cease to play the fool
And what thou seest dead as
dead regard!
Whilòme the sheeniest suns for thee did shine
When
oft-a-tripping whither led the girl
By us belovèd, as shall none be
loved. 5 There all so merry doings then were done
After thy liking,
nor the girl was loath.
Then certès sheeniest suns for thee did shine.

Now she's unwilling: thou too (hapless!) will
Her flight to follow,
and sad life to live: 10 Endure with stubborn soul and still obdure.

Damsel, adieu! Catullus obdurate grown
Nor seeks thee, neither asks
of thine unwill;
Yet shalt thou sorrow when none woos thee more;

Reprobate! Woe to thee! What life remains? 15 Who now shall love
thee? Who'll think thee fair?
Whom now shalt ever love? Whose wilt
be called?
To whom shalt kisses give? whose liplets nip?
But thou
(Catullus!) destiny-doomed obdure.
Unhappy Catullus, cease thy trifling and what thou seest lost know to
be lost. Once bright days used to shine on thee when thou wert wont to
haste whither thy girl didst lead thee, loved by us as never girl will e'er
be loved. There those many joys were joyed which thou didst wish, nor
was the girl unwilling. In truth bright days used once to shine on thee.
Now