| MISER CATULLE, DESINAS INEPTIRE ... |
TIME THAT YOU STOPPED THIS FOOLISHNESS, CATULLUS ... | ||
| Catullus (Gaius Valerius Catullus) | tr. Hummphrey Clucas | ||
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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. ibi illa multa tum iocosa fiebant, quae tu volebas nec puella nolebat. fulsere vere candidi tibi soles. nunc iam illa non vult: tu quoque, impotens, noli, nec quae fugit sectare, nec miser vive, 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! quis nunc te adibit? cui videberis bella? quem nunc amabis? cuius esse diceris? quem basiabis? cui labella mordebis? at tu, Catulle, destinatus obdura. |
Time that you stopped this foolishness, Catullus, And gave up hoping for what has gone. Your days have burned brightly: you went once Wherever your mistress took you - she you loved As none will be loved now. Such appetite, Such glad sport; you made your desire known, And the girl was not backward. Sun-drenched days. Now she no longer wants it; you, poor fool, Must think the same. Give up the chase, then - No regrets. You must be firm, endure. Farewell, love: Catullus' mind hardens. He'll not beg favours against your will. And you'll be the loser - on the shelf, unwanted. What will you do now? who'll come visiting? Who'll find you beautiful? whom will you love? Who'll possess you? whose lips for your kisses? Whose nibbling lips?
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Transl. Copyright © Humphrey Clucas 1985 - publ. Agenda Editions & Hippopotamus Press
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