The Carmina of Caius Valerius Catullus Part 2

Love we (my Lesbia!) and live we our day, While all stern sayings crabbed sages say, At one doit's value let us price and prize!

The Suns can westward sink again to rise But we, extinguished once our tiny light, 5 Perforce shall slumber through one lasting night!

Kiss me a thousand times, then hundred more, Then thousand others, then a new five-score, Still other thousand other hundred store.

Last when the sums to many thousands grow, 10 The tale let's trouble till no more we know, Nor envious wight despiteful shall misween us Knowing how many kisses have been kissed between us.

Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love, and count all the mumblings of sour age at a penny's fee. Suns set can rise again: we when once our brief light has set must sleep through a perpetual night. Give me of kisses a thousand, and then a hundred, then another thousand, then a second hundred, then another thousand without resting, then a hundred. Then, when we have made many thousands, we will confuse the count lest we know the numbering, so that no wretch may be able to envy us through knowledge of our kisses'

number.

VI.

Flavi, delicias tuas Catullo, Nei sint inlepidae atque inelegantes, Velles dicere, nec tacere posses.

Verum nescioquid febriculosi Scorti diligis: hoc pudet fateri. 5 Nam te non viduas iacere noctes Nequiquam tacitum cubile clamat Sertis ac Syrio fragrans olivo, Pulvinusque peraeque et hic et ille Attritus, tremulique qua.s.sa lecti 10 Argutatio inambulatioque.

Nam nil stupra valet, nihil, tacere.

Cur? non tam latera ecfututa pandas, Nei tu quid facias ineptiarum.

Quare quidquid habes boni malique, 15 Dic n.o.bis. 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 wh.o.r.edoms (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 wh.o.r.e: 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 wh.o.r.edoms. And why? Thou wouldst not display such drained 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, c.u.m 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 pa.s.sion-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, c.u.m vent.i.tabas quo puella ducebat Amata n.o.bis 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, c.u.m 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!

Whilme the sheeniest suns for thee did shine When oft-a-tripping whither led the girl By us beloved, as shall none be loved. 5 There all so merry doings then were done After thy liking, nor the girl was loath.

Then certes 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 she no longer wishes: thou too, powerless to avail, must be unwilling, nor pursue the retreating one, nor live unhappy, but with firm-set mind endure, steel thyself. Farewell, girl, now Catullus steels himself, seeks thee not, nor entreats thy acquiescence. But thou wilt pine, when thou hast no entreaty proffered. Faithless, go thy way! what manner of life remaineth to thee?

who now will visit thee? who find thee beautiful? whom wilt thou love now?

whose girl wilt thou be called? whom wilt thou kiss? whose lips wilt thou bite? But thou, Catullus, remain hardened as steel.

VIIII.

Verani, omnibus e meis amicis Antistans mihi milibus trecentis, Venistine domum ad tuos Penates Fratresque unanimos anumque matrem?

Venisti. o mihi nuntii beati! 5 Visam te incolumem audiamque Hiberum Narrantem loca, facta, nationes, Vt mos est tuus, adplicansque collum Iocundum os oculosque suaviabor.

O quantumst hominum beatiorum, 10 Quid me laetius est beatiusve?

VIIII.

TO VERANIUS RETURNED FROM TRAVEL.

Veranius! over every friend of me Forestanding, owned I hundred thousands three, Home to Penates and to single-soul'd Brethren, returned art thou and mother old?

Yes, thou art come. Oh, winsome news come well! 5 Now shall I see thee, safely hear thee tell Of sites Iberian, deeds and nations 'spied, (As be thy wont) and neck-a-neck applied I'll greet with kisses thy glad lips and eyne.

Oh! Of all mortal men beatified 10 Whose joy and gladness greater be than mine?

Veranius, of all my friends standing in the front, owned I three hundred thousands of them, hast thou come home to thy Penates, thy longing brothers and thine aged mother? Thou hast come back. O joyful news to me! I may see thee safe and sound, and may hear thee speak of regions, deeds, and peoples Iberian, as is thy manner; and reclining o'er thy neck shall kiss thy jocund mouth and eyes. O all ye blissfullest of men, who more gladsome or more blissful is than I am?

X.

Varus me meus ad suos amores Visum duxerat e foro otiosum, Scortillum, ut mihi tum repente visumst, Non sane inlepidum neque invenustum.

Huc ut venimus, incidere n.o.bis 5 Sermones varii, in quibus, quid esset Iam Bithynia, quo modo se haberet, Ecquonam mihi profuisset aere.

Respondi id quod erat, nihil neque ipsis Nec praetoribus esse nec cohorti, 10 Cur quisquam caput unctius referret, Praesertim quibus esset inrumator Praetor, non faciens pili cohortem.

'At certe tamen, inquiunt, quod illic Natum dicitur esse, conparasti 15 Ad lecticam homines.' ego, ut puellae Vnum me facerem beatiorem, 'Non' inquam 'mihi tam fuit maligne, Vt, provincia quod mala incidisset, Non possem octo homines parare rectos.' 20 At mi nullus erat nec hic neque illic, Fractum qui veteris pedem grabati In collo sibi collocare posset.

Hic illa, ut decuit cinaediorem, 'Quaeso' inquit 'mihi, mi Catulle, paulum 25 Istos. commode enim volo ad Sarapim Deferri.' 'minime' inquii puellae; * * * *

'Istud quod modo dixeram me habere, Fugit me ratio: meus sodalis Cinnast Gaius, is sibi paravit. 30 Verum, utrum illius an mei, quid ad me?

Vtor tam bene quam mihi pararim.

Sed tu insulsa male ac molesta vivis, Per quam non licet esse negligentem.'

X.