Martial: EPIGRAMMATON LIBRI

Hoc tibi, Palladiae seu collibus uteris Albae,
     Caesar, et hinc Triuiam prospicis, inde Thetin,
seu tua ueridicae discunt responsa sorores,
     plana suburbani qua cubat unda freti,
seu placet Aeneae nutrix seu filia Solis              5
     siue salutiferis candidus Anxur aquis,
mittimus, o rerum felix tutela salusque,
     sospite quo gratum credimus esse Iouem.
Tu tantum accipias: ego te legisse putabo
     et tumidus Galla credulitate fruar.               10

This to you, whether you use the hills of Palladian Alba,
     Caesar, and from here you look out upon Trivia, from there upon Thetis,
or whether your veridical sisters learn your responses,
     where the level wave of the suburban strait lies,
or whether the nurse of Aeneas or the daughter of the Sun pleases,              5
     or bright Anxur with health-bringing waters,
we send, O happy guardianship and salvation of affairs,
     with whom safe we believe Jove to be gracious.
Do you only receive: I will suppose you have read,
     and, puffed up, I will enjoy Galla’s credulity.               10

Matronae puerique uirginesque,
uobis pagina nostra dedicatur.
Tu, quem nequitiae procaciores
delectant nimius salesque nudi,
lasciuos lege quattuor libellos: 5
quintus cum domino liber iocatur;
quem Germanicus ore non rubenti
coram Cecropia legat puella.

Matronae and boys and maidens,
to you our page is dedicated.
You, whom the more impudent naughtinesses
and bare witticisms delight excessively,
read the wanton four little books: 5
the fifth, with its master, makes jests;
which a Germanicus, with face not blushing,
may read before a Cecropian girl.

Accola iam nostrae Degis, Germanice, ripae,
     a famulis Histri qui tibi uenit aquis,
laetus et attonitus uiso modo praeside mundi,
     adfatus comites dicitur esse suos:
"Sors mea quam fratris melior, cui tam prope fas est              5
     cernere, tam longe quem colit ille deum".

Now a dweller on our bank, Germanicus, Degis,
     one of the Hister’s retainers, who came to you from its waters,
glad and astonished at having just seen the ruler of the world,
     is said to have addressed his companions:
"My lot is better than my brother’s, to whom it is so near a lawful thing to behold,              5
     him whom he worships as a god from so far away."

Fetere multo Myrtale solet uino,
sed fallat ut nos, folia deuorat lauri
merumque cauta fronde, non aqua, miscet.
Hanc tu rubentem prominentibus uenis
quotiens uenire, Paule, uideris contra, 5
dicas licebit "Myrtale bibit laurum."

Myrtale is wont to reek of much wine,
but, so that she may fool us, she devours leaves of laurel,
and she mixes pure wine with a cautious leaf, not with water.
Whenever you see her, flushed, with prominent veins,
coming toward you, Paul, you may say, “Myrtale drinks laurel.” 5

Sexte, Palatinae cultor facunde Mineruae,
     ingenio frueris qui propiore dei -
nam tibi nascentes domini cognoscere curas
     et secreta ducis pectora nosse licet -:
sit locus et nostris aliqua tibi parte libellis,              5
     qua Pedo, qua Marsus quaque Catullus erit.
Ad Capitolini caelestia carmina belli
     grande cothurnati pone Maronis opus.

Sextus, eloquent cultivator of Palatine Minerva,
     you who enjoy a genius more proximate to the god -
for to you it is permitted to recognize the lord’s nascent cares
     and to know the secret breast of the leader -:
let there be a place for our little books for you in some part,              5
     where Pedo, where Marsus, and where Catullus will be.
Beside the celestial songs of the Capitoline war
     set the great work of buskined Maro.

Si non est graue nec nimis molestum,
Musae, Parthenium rogate uestrum:
sic te serior et beata quondam
saluo Caesare finiat senectus
et sis inuidia fauente felix,              5
sic Burrus cito sentiat parentem:
admittas timidam breuemque chartam
intra limina sanctioris aulae.
Nosti tempora tu Iouis sereni,
cum fulget placido suoque uoltu,              10
quo nil supplicibus solet negare.
Non est quod metuas preces iniquas:
numquam grandia nec molesta poscit
quae cedro decorata purpuraque
nigris pagina creuit umbilicis.              15

If it is not burdensome nor too troublesome,
Muses, ask your Parthenius:
so may a later and one-day-blessed
old age, with Caesar safe, bring you to your close,
and may you be fortunate, Envy favoring,              5
so may Burrus quickly feel a parent:
admit the timid and brief paper
within the thresholds of the more sacred hall.
You know the times of serene Jove,
when he shines with his placid and proper countenance,              10
at which he is accustomed to deny nothing to suppliants.
There is no reason for you to fear unjust prayers:
never does it ask for grand nor troublesome things,
the page which, adorned with cedar and purple,
has grown with black umbilici.              15

Nec porrexeris ista, sed teneto
sic tamquam nihil offeras agasque.
Si noui dominum nouem sororum,
ultro purpureum petet libellum.

Do not proffer these things, but hold them fast,
thus as if you were offering nothing and doing nothing.
If I know the lord of the nine sisters,
of his own accord he will seek the purple little book.

Qualiter Assyrios renouant incendia nidos,
     una decem quotiens saecula uixit auis,
taliter exuta est ueterem noua Roma senctam
     et sumpsit uoltus praesidis ipsa sui.
Iam, precor, oblitus notae, Vulcane, querelae,              5
     parce: sumus Martis turba, sed et Veneris;
parce, pater: sic Lemniacis lasciua catenis
     ignoscat coniunx et patienter amet.

Just as the fires renovate the Assyrian nests,
     whenever the single bird has lived ten ages,
so new Rome has shed her old age
     and has taken on the very countenance of her own governor.
Now, I pray, Vulcan, forgetful of the well-known complaint,              5
     spare us: we are a throng of Mars, but also of Venus;
spare us, father: thus may your wanton spouse for the Lemnian chains
     forgive and love with patience.

Edictum domini deique nostri,
quo subsellia certiora fiunt
et puros eques ordines recepit,
dum laudat modo Phasis in theatro,
Phasis purpureis rubens lacernis, 5
et iactat tumido superbus ore:
"Tandem commodius licet sedere,
nunc est reddita dignitas equestris;
turba non premimur, nec inquinamur":
haec et talia dum refert supinus, 10
illas purpureas et adrogantes
iussit surgere Leitus lacernas.

The edict of our lord and god,
whereby the benches are made more fixed
and has reclaimed the equestrian orders as pure,
while Phasis just now praises in the theater,
Phasis, glowing red in purple cloaks, 5
and vaunts, proud, with a swollen mouth:
“At last it is permitted to sit more comfortably,
now the equestrian dignity has been restored;
we are not pressed by the crowd, nor are we defiled”:
while, supine, he reports these things and such, 10
Leitus ordered those purple and arrogant cloaks to rise.

Languebam: sed tu comitatus protinus ad me
uenisti centum, Symmache, discipulis.
Centum me tetigere manus aquilone gelatae:
non habui febrem, Symmache, nunc habeo.

I was languishing: but you, Symmachus, straightway came to me
with a hundred disciples.
A hundred hands, chilled by the north wind Aquilo, touched me:
I did not have a fever, Symmachus; now I have one.

"Esse quid hoc dicam uiuis quod fama negatur
     et sua quod rarus tempora lector amat?"
Hi sunt inuidiae nimirum, Regule, mores,
     praeferat antiquos semper ut illa nouis.
Sic ueterem ingrati Pompei quaerimus umbram,              5
     sic laudant Catuli uilia templa senes;
Ennius est lectus saluo tibi, Roma, Marone,
     et sua riserunt saecula Maeoniden;
rara coronato plausere theatra Menandro;
     norat Nasonem sola Corinna suum.              10
Vos tamen o nostri ne festinate libelli;
     si post fata uenit gloria, non propero.

"What shall I say this is—that fame is denied to the living,
     and that the reader is rare who loves his own times?"
These, surely, Regulus, are the manners of envy,
     that she always prefers the ancients to the new.
Thus we ungrateful seek the ancient shade of Pompey,              5
     thus old men praise the cheap temples of Catulus;
Ennius is read, Rome, with Maro safe and sound,
     and his own ages laughed at Maeonides;
the theaters seldom applauded Menander even when crowned;
     Corinna alone knew her own Naso.              10
You, however, o our little books, do not hasten;
     if glory comes after the fates, I do not hurry.

Sardonychas, zmaragdos, adamantas, iaspidas uno
uersat in articulo Stella, Seuere, meus.
Multas in digitis, plures in carmine gemmas
inuenies: inde est haec, puto, culta manus.

Sardonyxes, emeralds, adamants, jaspers my Stella, Severus, turns upon a single knuckle;
you will find many gems on his fingers, more in his song: hence, I think, this is a cultivated hand.

Quod nutantia fronte perticata
gestat pondera Masclion superbus,
aut grandis Ninus omnibus lacertis
septem quod pueros leuat uel octo,
res non difficilis mihi uidetur, 5
uno cum digito uel hoc uel illo
portet Stella meus decem puellas.

What proud Masclion bears—weights, pole-balanced on a nodding brow—
or what grand Ninus with all his biceps lifts, seven boys or eight,
does not seem to me a difficult feat, 5
since with a single finger, this one or that,
my Stella can carry ten girls.

Sum, fateor, semperque fui, Callistrate, pauper,
     sed non obscurus nec male notus eques,
sed toto legor orbe frequens et dicitur "Hic est";
     quodque cinis paucis, hoc mihi uita dedit.
At tua centenis incumbunt tecta columnis              5
     et libertinas arca flagellat opes,
magnaque Niliacae seruit tibi gleba Syenes,
     tondet et innumeros Gallica Parma greges.
Hoc ego tuque sumus: sed quod sum non potes esse;
     tu quod es, e populo quilibet esse potest.              10

I am, I confess, and always have been, Callistrate, poor,
     but not obscure nor ill-known a Roman knight,
but through the whole world I am read frequently, and it is said "This is he";
     and what ash grants to few, this life has given to me.
But your roofs lean upon hundreds of columns              5
     and your strongbox lashes with freedman-wealth,
and a great glebe of Nile-born Syene serves you,
     and Gallic Parma shears innumerable flocks.
This is what I and you are: but what I am you cannot be;
     what you are, anyone out of the crowd can be.              10

Sedere primo solitus in gradu semper
tunc, cum liceret occupare, Nanneius
bis excitatus terque transtulit castra,
et inter ipsas paene tertius sellas
post Gaiumque Luciumque consedit. 5
Illinc cucullo prospicit caput tectus
oculoque ludos spectat indecens uno;
et hinc miser deiectus in uiam transit,
subsellioque semifultus extremo
et male receptus altero genu iactat 10
equiti sedere Leitoque se stare.

Nanneius, accustomed to sit on the first tier always,
     then, when it was permitted to seize it,
twice rousted and three times shifted camp,
and almost as a third among the very chairs
sat down behind Gaius and Lucius.              5
From there, with his head covered by a cowl, he peers out,
and, indecent, watches the games with one eye;
and from here, a wretch, thrown down, he passes into the street,
and, half propped by the end of a bench
and ill received, on the other knee he vaunts that he sits as a knight and that he stands for Leitus.              10

Quintus nostrorum liber est, Auguste, iocorum
     et queritur laesus carmine nemo meo;
gaudet honorato sed multus nomine lector,
     cui uictura meo munere fama datur.
"Quid tamen haec prosunt quamuis uenerantia multos?"              5
     Non prosit sane, me tamen ista iuuant.

The fifth book of our jests it is, Augustus,
     and no one injured complains at my song;
but many a reader rejoices in his honored name,
     to whom a fame destined to live is given by my gift.
"What, however, do these things profit, although venerating many?"              5
     Let it profit nothing, to be sure; nevertheless these things delight me.

Seria cum possim, quod delectantia malo
     scribere, tu causa es, lector amice, mihi,
qui legis et tota cantas mea carmina Roma:
     sed nescis quanti stet mihi talis amor.
Nam si falciferi defendere templa Tonantis              5
     sollicitisque uelim uendere uerba reis,
plurimus Hispanas mittet mihi nauta metretas
     et fiet uario sordidus aere sinus.
At nunc conuiua est comissatorque libellus
     et tantum gratis pagina nostra placet.              10
Sed non et ueteres contenti laude fuerunt,
     cum minimum uati munus Alexis erat.

Though I can write serious things, it is what delights that I prefer
     to write; you are the cause of this for me, friendly reader,
you who read and sing my songs through all Rome:
     but you do not know how much such love costs me.
For if I were willing to defend the temples of the sickle-bearing Thunderer              5
     and to vend words to anxious defendants,
full many a sailor will send me Spanish casks,
     and my fold will become soiled with varied bronze.
But now my little book is a dinner guest and a carouser,
     and my page pleases only gratis.              10
But not even the ancients were content with praise,
     when the least gift for the bard was an Alexis.

"Belle" inquis "dixti: iuuat et laudabimus usque."
Dissimulas? Facies me, puto, causidicum.

"‘Nicely,’ you say, ‘you have spoken: it delights, and we will praise without cease.’"
Do you dissemble? You will make me, I think, an advocate.

Dum proauos atauosque refers et nomina magna,
dum tibi noster eques sordida condicio est,
dum te posse negas nisi lato, Gellia, clauo
nubere, nupsisti, Gellia, cistibero.

While you recount your great-grandfathers and great-great-grandfathers and great names,
while for you our knight is a sordid match,
while you say, Gellia, that you cannot marry unless to the broad stripe,
you have married, Gellia, a basket-bearer.

Quod tibi Decembri mense, quo uolant mappae
gracilesque ligulae cereique chartaeque
et acuta senibus testa cum Damascenis,
praeter libellos uernulas nihil misi,
fortasse auarus uidear aut inhumanus. 5
Odi dolosas munerum et malas artes;
imitantur hamos dona: namque quis nescit
auidum uorata decipi scarum musca?
Quotiens amico diuiti nihil donat,
o Quintiane, liberalis est pauper. 10

Because to you in the month of December, when napkins fly
     and slender spoons and wax-candles and papers,
and, for old men, a sharp potsherd with Damascenes,
I sent nothing except some home-bred little booklets,
perhaps I may seem a miser or inhuman.              5
I hate the deceitful and evil arts of gifts;
gifts imitate hooks: for who does not know
the greedy scarus to be deceived by a swallowed fly?
Whenever he gives nothing to a rich friend,
O Quintianus, the poor man is liberal.              10

Si qua fides ueris, praeferri, maxime Caesar,
temporibus possunt saecula nulla tuis.
Quando magis dignos licuit spectare triumphos?
Quando Palatini plus meruere dei?

If any trust is to be placed in truths, greatest Caesar,
no ages can be preferred to your times.
When has it been permitted to behold more worthy triumphs?
When have the Palatine gods deserved more?

Pulchrior et maior quo sub duce Martia Roma?              5
     Sub quo libertas principe tanta fuit?
Est tamen hoc uitium sed non leue, sit licet unum,
     quod colit ingratas pauper amicitias.
Quis largitur opes ueteri fidoque sodali,
     aut quem prosequitur non alienus eques?              10
Saturnaliciae ligulam misisse selibrae
     flammatisue togae scripula tota decem
uxuria est, tumidique uocant haec munera reges:
     qui crepet aureolos forsitan unus erit.

More beautiful and greater—under what leader—was Martial Rome?              5
     Under what prince was liberty so great?
There is, however, this fault—but not light, even if it be a single one—,
     that the poor man cultivates ungrateful friendships.
Who lavishes wealth on an old and faithful comrade,
     or whom does a knight, not another’s, escort?              10
To have sent, as a Saturnalian gift, a little spoon of a half-pound,
     or, of a flame-dyed toga, a full ten scruples,
is extravagance; and puffed-up “kings” call these gifts:
     there will perhaps be a single one who makes the little gold pieces clink.

Quatenus hi non sunt, esto tu, Caesar, amicus; 15

Insofar as these are not, be you, Caesar, a friend; 15

nulla ducis uirtus dulcior esse potest.
Iam dudum tacito rides, Germanice, naso
utile quod nobis do tibi consilium.

no virtue of a leader can be sweeter.
for a good while now you smile, Germanicus, with a silent nose,
that I give to you counsel useful to us.

Si tecum mihi, care Martialis,
securis liceat frui diebus,
si disponere tempus otiosum
et uerae pariter uacare uitae:
nec nos atria nec domos potentum 5
nec litis tetricas forumque triste
nossemus nec imagines superbas;
sed gestatio, fabulae, libelli,
campus, porticus, umbra, Virgo, thermae,
haec essent loca semper, hi labores. 10
Nunc uiuit necuter sibi, bonosque
soles effugere atque abire sentit,
qui nobis pereunt et inputantur.
Quisquam uiuere cum sciat, moratur?

If it were permitted me, dear Martial, to enjoy with you untroubled days,
if to arrange leisure time and equally to be free for the true life:
we should not know the halls nor the houses of the powerful 5
nor the grim lawsuits and the sad forum,
nor the haughty images;
but a stroll, talk, little books,
the field, the portico, shade, the Virgo, the baths,
these would be the places always, these the labors. 10
Now neither of us lives for himself, and he feels the good suns
flee and depart, which perish for us and are imputed;
Does anyone, when he knows how to live, delay?

Quintum pro Decimo, pro Crasso, Regule, Macrum
ante salutabat rhetor Apollodotus:
nunc utrumque suo resalutat nomine. Quantum
cura laborque potest! Scripsit et edidicit.

Quintus instead of Decimus, instead of Crassus, Regulus, Macer
formerly the rhetor Apollodotus used to greet:
now he re-greets each by his own name. How much
care and labor can do! He wrote it down and learned it by heart.

Mane domi nisi te uolui meruitque uidere,
     sint mihi, Paule, tuae longius Esquiliae.
Sed Tiburtinae sum proximus accola pilae,
     qua uidet anticum rustica Flora Iouem:
alta Suburani uincenda est semita cliui              5
     et numquam sicco sordida saxa gradu,
uixque datur longas mulorum rumpere mandras
     quaeque trahi multo marmora fune uides.
Illud adhuc grauius quod te post mille labores,
     Paule, negat lasso ianitor esse domi.              10
Exitus hic operis uani togulaeque madentis:
     uix tanti Paulum mane uidere fuit.

Unless, in the morning at home, I wanted and deserved to see you,
     may your Esquiline, Paul, be farther from me.
But I am a neighbor hard by the Tiburtine pillar,
     where rustic Flora sees ancient Jove:
the high path of the Suburan slope must be conquered,              5
     and the filthy stones are never with a dry tread,
and scarcely is it granted to break through the long droves of mules
     and the marbles which you see dragged by many a rope.
Still heavier is this, that after a thousand labors
     the doorkeeper, Paul, tells the weary you are not at home.              10
Such is the outcome of a vain effort and a dripping little toga:
     it was scarcely worth so much to see Paul in the morning.

Semper inhumanos habet officiosus amicos:
rex, nisi dormieris, non potes esse meus.

The officious man always has inhuman friends:
king, unless you have slept, you cannot be mine.

Herbarum fueras indutus, Basse, colores,
     iura theatralis dum siluere loci.
Quae postquam placidi censoris cura renasci
     iussit et Oceanum certior audit eques,
non nisi uel cocco madida uel murice tincta              5
     uest nites et te sic dare uerba putas.
Quadringentorum nullae sunt, Basse, lacernae,
     aut meus ante omnis Cordus haberet equum.

You had been clad, Bassus, in the colors of herbs,
     while the rights of the theatrical place were silent.
But after the care of the gentle Censor ordered them to be reborn
     and the knight hears Oceanus more surely,
you shine now only in garments soaked with scarlet or dyed with murex-purple,              5
     and you think thus to deceive us.
There are no cloaks “of the Four Hundred,” Bassus,
     or else my Cordus would have a horse before all others.

Hermes Martia saeculi uoluptas,
Hermes omnibus eruditus armis,
Hermes et gladiator et magister,
Hermes turbo sui tremorque ludi,
Hermes, quem timet Helius, sed unum,              5
Hermes, cui cadit Aduolans, sed uni,
Hermes uincere nec ferire doctus,
Hermes subpositicius sibi ipse,
Hermes diuitiae locariorum,
Hermes cura laborque ludiarum,              10
Hermes belligera superbus hasta,
Hermes aequoreo minax tridente,
Hermes casside languida timendus,
Hermes gloria Martis uniuersi,
Hermes omnia solus et ter unus.              15

Hermes, the martial delight of the age,
Hermes, educated in all arms,
Hermes both gladiator and master,
Hermes, the whirlwind of his own side and the terror of the school,
Hermes, whom Helius fears—but him alone,              5
Hermes, before whom Advolans falls—but before one alone,
Hermes, skilled to conquer and not to strike,
Hermes, his own substitute himself,
Hermes, the riches of the seat‑brokers,
Hermes, the care and the toil of the game‑girls,              10
Hermes, proud with war‑bearing spear,
Hermes, menacing with the sea‑trident,
Hermes, to be feared with languid helmet,
Hermes, the glory of all Mars,
Hermes, everything alone and thrice one.              15

"Quadringenta tibi non sunt, Chaerestrate: surge,
     Leitus ecce uenit: sta, fuge, curre, late."
Ecquis, io, reuocat discedentemque reducit?
     Ecquis, io, largas pandit amicus opes?
Quem chartis famaeque damus populisque loquendum?              5
     Quis Stygios non uolt totus adire lacus?

"Four hundred are not yours, Chaerestratus: rise,
     Behold, Leitus comes: stand, flee, run, hide."
Is there anyone, ah, who calls back and brings back the one departing?
     Is there anyone, ah, a friend who throws open lavish resources?
Whom do we give to the papers and to fame and to the peoples to be spoken of?              5
     Who does not wish to approach the Stygian lakes whole?

Hoc, rogo, non melius quam rubro pulpita nimbo
     spargere et effuso permaduisse croco?
Quam non sensuro dare quadringenta caballo,
     aureus ut Scorpi nasus ubique micet?              10
O frustra locuples, o dissimulator amici,
     haec legis et laudas? Quae tibi fama perit!

Is this, I ask, not better than to sprinkle the stage with a red nimbus
     and to have been thoroughly drenched with poured-out saffron?
Than to give four hundred thousand to a horse that will not feel it,
     so that the golden nose of Scorpus may glitter everywhere?              10
O wealthy in vain, O dissembler of a friend,
     do you read these and praise them? What reputation of yours is perishing!

Quod alpha dixi, Corde, paenulatorum
te nuper, aliqua cum iocarer in charta,
si forte bilem mouit hic tibi uersus,
dicas licebit beta me togatorum.

That I called you alpha, Cordus, of the paenula-clad,
you recently, while I was joking on some page,
if perhaps this verse stirred your bile,
you may call me beta of the toga-wearers.

Ingenium studiumque tibi moresque genusque
sunt equitis, fateor: cetera plebis habes.
Bis septena tibi non sint subsellia tanti,
ut sedeas uiso pallidus Oceano.

Your genius and zeal, your mores and your stock
are of a knight, I admit: the rest you have of the plebs.
Let the twice-seven benches not be worth so much to you,
that you sit pallid at the sight of the Ocean.

Vt bene loquatur sentiatque Mamercus,
efficere nullis, Aule, moribus possis:
pietate fratres Curuios licet uincas,
quiete Neruas, comitate Rusones,
probitate Macros, aequitate Mauricos, 5
oratione Regulos, iocis Paulos:
robiginosis cuncta dentibus rodit.
Hominem malignum forsan esse tu credas:
ego esse miserum credo, cui placet nemo.

That Mamercus may speak well and think well of you, you could not, Aulus, bring it about by any manners:
though you surpass the Curii brothers in piety,
the Nervae in quietude, the Rusones in comity,
the Macri in probity, the Maurici in equity, 5
the Reguli in oration, the Pauli in jokes:
with rusty teeth he gnaws everything.
You perhaps may think the man to be malign:
I think him miserable, to whom no one is pleasing.

Si quando leporem mittis mihi, Gellia, dicis:
"Formonsus septem, Marce, diebus eris."
Si non derides, si uerum, lux mea, narras,
edisti numquam, Gellia, tu leporem.

If ever you send me a hare, Gellia, you say:
"Handsome for seven days, Marcus, you will be."
If you are not deriding, if you tell the truth, my light,
you have never eaten a hare, Gellia.

Varro, Sophocleo non infitiande cothurno
     nec minus in Calabra suspiciende lyra,
differ opus nec te facundi scaena Catulli
     detineat cultis aut elegia comis;
sed lege fumoso non aspernanda Decembri              5
     carmina, mittuntur quae tibi mense suo:
commodius nisi forte tibi potiusque uidetur
     Saturnalicias perdere, Varro, nuces.

Varro, not to be gainsaid in the Sophoclean buskin,
     nor less to be looked up to in the Calabrian lyre,
put off your work, and let not the stage of eloquent Catullus
     detain you, nor the elegy with well-groomed tresses;
but read in smoky December the songs not to be scorned,              5
     which are sent to you in their own month:
unless perhaps it seems more commodious and preferable to you,
     Varro, to squander the Saturnalian nuts.

Aspice quam placidis insultet turba iuuencis
     et sua quam facilis pondera taurus amet.
Cornibus hic pendet summis, uagus ille per armos
     currit et in toto uentilat arma boue.
At feritas immota riget: non esset harena              5
     tutior et poterant fallere plana magis.

Behold how the crowd leaps upon the placid young bulls
     and how accommodating the bull is, how he loves his own burdens.
Here one hangs from the topmost horns, another, roaming, along the shoulders
     runs and over the whole bull fans/brandishes his arms.
But ferity, unmoved, is rigid: the arena would not be safer              5
     and the level places could deceive more.

Nec trepidant gestus, sed de discrimine palmae
securus puer est sollicitumque pecus.

Nor do the gestures tremble, but about the crisis of the palm of victory
the boy is secure, and the herd solicitous.

Quadrantem Crispus tabulis, Faustine, supremis
non dedit uxori. "Cui dedit ergo?" Sibi.

Crispus, Faustinus, in his final tablets did not give a quarter‑coin to his wife.
"To whom did he give it, then?" To himself.

Carpere causidicus fertur mea carmina: qui sit
nescio. Si sciero, uae tibi, causidice.

An advocate is said to carp at my poems: who he is
I do not know. If I come to know, woe to you, advocate.

Hanc tibi, Fronto pater, genetrix Flaccilla, puellam
     oscula commendo deliciasque meas,
paruola ne nigras horrescat Erotion umbras
     oraque Tartarei prodigiosa canis.
Impletura fuit sextae modo frigora brumae,              5
     uixisset totidem ni minus illa dies.
Inter tam ueteres ludat lasciua patronos
     et nomen blaeso garriat ore meum.

To you, Fronto father, genitrix Flaccilla, this girl
     I commend—my kisses and my delights—,
lest the tiny Erotion shudder at the black shades
     and at the prodigious jaws of the Tartarean dog.
She was about to complete the chills of her sixth winter,              5
     had the days been fewer by just as many.
Let the playful one sport among such ancient patrons
     and with a lisping mouth prattle my name.

Mollia non rigidus caespes tegat ossa nec illi,
terra, grauis fueris: non fuit illa tibi. 10

Let a not-rigid turf cover the soft bones, nor to her,
earth, be heavy: she was not to you. 10

Dum sibi redire de Patrensibus fundis
ducena clamat coccinatus Euclides
Corinthioque plura de suburbano
longumque pulchra stemma repetit a Leda
et suscitanti Leito reluctatur, 5
equiti superbo, nobili, lucupleti
cecidit repente magna de sinu clauis.
Numquam, Fabulle, nequior fuit clauis.

While scarlet-clad Euclides shouts that two hundred are returning to him from the Patrean estates,
and more from the Corinthian suburban estate,
and he retraces from Leda a long, beautiful pedigree,
and resists Leitus as he tries to rouse him, 5
a proud, noble, well-to-do knight,
suddenly a big key fell from his bosom.
Never, Fabullus, was there a wickeder key.

Laudatus nostro quidam, Faustine, libello
dissimulat, quasi nil debeat: inposuit.

A certain man, Faustinus, praised in our booklet,
dissimulates, as if he owed nothing: he has imposed on me.

Puella senibus dulcior mihi cycnis,
agno Galaesi mollior Phalantini,
concha Lucrini delicatior stagni,
cui nec lapillos praeferas Erythraeos
nec modo politum pecudis Indicae dentem              5
niuesque primas liliumque non tactum;
quae crine uicit Baetici gregis uellus
Rhenique nodos aureamque nitelam;
fragrauit ore quod rosarium Paesti,
quod Atticarum prima mella cerarum,              10
quod sucinorum rapta de manu gleba;
cui conparatus indecens erat pauo,
inamabilis sciurus et frequens phoenix,
adhuc recenti tepet Erotion busto,
quam pessimorum lex amara fatorum              15

To me a girl sweeter than aged swans,
softer than the lamb of the Phalantine Galaesus,
more delicate than the shell of the Lucrine pool,
before whom you would not set the Erythraean pebbles,
nor the just-polished tooth of the Indian beast,              5
and the first snows and the untouched lily;
who with her hair outdid the fleece of the Baetican flock,
and the Rhenish curls and the golden sheen;
who with her mouth has given off the fragrance which the rose-garden of Paestum,
which the first honeys of Attic waxes, which a lump of amber snatched from the hand,              10
have;
to whom, by comparison, the peacock was unbecoming,
the squirrel unlovely, and the frequent phoenix,
Erotion is still warm at a recent tomb,
whom the bitter law of the worst fates              15

sexta peregit hieme, nec tamen tota,
nostros amores gaudiumque lususque.
Et esse tristem me meus uetat Paetus,
pectusque pulsans pariter et comam uellens:
"Deflere non te uernulae pudet mortem? 20
Ego coniugem" inquit "extuli et tamen uiuo,
notam, superbam, nobilem, lucupletem."
Quid esse nostro fortius potest Paeto?
Ducentiens accepit, et tamen uiuit!

she passed a sixth winter, yet not all of it,
our love, and joy, and play.
And my Paetus forbids me to be sad,
beating his breast and at the same time plucking his hair:
"Are you not ashamed to weep over the death of a house-born little slave-girl? 20
I," he says, "have carried out my wife and yet I live,
noted, proud, noble, opulent."
What can be stronger than our Paetus?
He has received 20,000,000, and yet he lives!

Calliodorus habet censum — quis nescit? — equestrem,
Sexte, sed et fratrem Calliodorus habet.
"Quadringenta seca" qui dicit suka merizei
uno credis equo posse sedere duos?

Calliodorus has the equestrian census — who doesn’t know it? —
Sextus, but Calliodorus also has a brother.
“Cut the four hundred,” he says, he divides figs —
do you believe two can sit on one horse?

Quid cum fratre tibi, quid cum Polluce molesto?              5
     Non esset Pollux si tibi, Castor eras.
Vnus cum sitis, duo, Calliodore, sedebis?
     surge: soloikismovn, Calliodore, facis.

What have you to do with your brother, what with troublesome Pollux?              5
     Pollux would not exist, if it were up to you; you were Castor.
Though you are one, will you, Calliodorus, sit as two?
     get up: you are making a solecism, Calliodorus.

Aut imitare genus Ledae: cum fratre sedere
non potes, alternis, Calliodore, sede. 10

Or imitate the offspring of Leda: you cannot sit with your brother
sit by turns, Calliodorus. 10

Supremas tibi triciens in anno
signanti tabulas, Charine, misi
Hyblaeis madidas thymis placentas.
Defeci: miserere iam, Charine:
signa rarius, aut semel fac illud, 5
mentitur tua quod subinde tussis.
Excussi loculosque sacculumque:
Croeso diuitior licet fuissem,
Iro pauperior forem, Charine,
si conchem totiens meam comesses. 10

To you, Charinus, who thirty times in a year sign last wills,
I have sent cakes drenched with Hyblaean thyme.
I am spent: have pity now, Charinus:
sign more rarely, or do once that thing 5
which your ever-recurring cough keeps pretending.
I have shaken out my little coffer and my purse:
even if I had been richer than Croesus,
I should be poorer than Irus, Charinus,
if you had so often devoured my shell-dish. 10

Pinxisti Venerem, colis, Artemidore, Mineruam:
et miraris opus displicuisse tuum?

You painted Venus; you worship Minerva, Artemidorus:
and do you marvel that your work has displeased?

Spadone cum sis euiratior fluxo,
et concubino mollior Celaenaeo,
quem sectus ululat matris entheae Gallus,
theatra loqueris et gradus et edicta
trabeasque et Idus fibulasque censusque, 5
et pumicata pauperes manu monstras.
Sedere in equitum liceat an tibi scamnis
uidebo, Didyme: non licet maritorum.

Though, as a eunuch, you are more evirated than a limp one,
and softer than a Celaenaean concubine,
whom, once cut, the Gallus howls for the inspired Mother,
you talk theaters and tiers and edicts,
and trabeae and the Ides and brooches and censuses, 5
and with a pumiced hand you point out the poor.
Whether it is permitted for you to sit on the benches of the equites
I shall see, Didymus: it is not permitted for husbands.

Callidus effracta nummos fur auferet arca,
     prosternet patrios impia flamma lares;
debitor usuram pariter sortemque negabit,
     non reddet sterilis semina iacta seges;
dispensatorem fallax spoliabit amica,              5
     mercibus extructas obruet unda rates.
Extra fortunam est quidquid donatur amicis:
     quas dederis solas semper habebis opes.

A cunning thief will carry off the coins from a broken coffer,
     an impious flame will lay low the paternal Lares;
the debtor will deny both interest and principal alike,
     a barren harvest will not render the seeds cast;
a deceitful girlfriend will despoil the steward,              5
     the wave will overwhelm ships heaped with merchandise.
Whatever is given to friends is beyond fortune:
     the only riches you will always have are those you have given.

Thais habet nigros, niueos Laecania dentes.
Quae ratio est? Emptos haec habet, illa suos.

Thais has black teeth, Laecania snow-white.
What is the reason? Laecania has bought hers; Thais has her own.

Quid factum est, rogo, quid repente factum,
ad cenam mihi, Dento, quod uocanti -
quis credat? - quater ausus es negare?
Sed nec respicis et fugis sequentem,
quem thermis modo quaerere et theatris 5
et conclauibus omnibus solebas.

What has happened, I ask, what has happened so suddenly,
that, when I invite you to dinner, Dento, -
who would believe it? - you have dared to refuse four times?
But you do not even look back and you flee the one following,
whom you were just now wont to look for in the baths and theatres 5
and in all the conclaves.

Sic est, captus es unctiore mensa
et maior rapuit canem culina.
Iam te, sed cito, cognitum et relictum
cum fastidierit popina diues, 10
antiquae uenies ad ossa cenae.

So it is: you have been captured by a more unctuous table,
and a greater kitchen has snatched the dog.
Now you—but soon—once known and left behind,
when the rich tavern grows fastidious of you, 10
you will come to the bones of the old supper.

Dicis formonsam, dicis te, Bassa, puellam:
istud quae non est dicere, Bassa, solet.

You say “beautiful,” you say that you, Bassa, are a maiden:
that is what she who is not, Bassa, is accustomed to say.

Basia dum nolo nisi quae luctantia carpsi,
et placet ira mihi plus tua quam facies,
ut te saepe rogem, caedo, Diadumene, saepe:
consequor hoc, ut me nec timeas nec ames.

While I want no kisses except those I have plucked as they struggle,
and your anger pleases me more than your face,
so that I may often entreat you, I beat you, Diadumene, often:
I achieve this—that you neither fear me nor love me.

Numquam se cenasse domi Philo iurat, et hoc est:
non cenat, quotiens nemo uocauit eum.

Philo swears he has never dined at home, and so it is:
he does not dine whenever no one has invited him.

Quid non cogit amor! Secuit nolente capillos
     Encolpos domino, non prohibente tamen.
Permisit fleuitque Pudens: sic cessit habenis
     audaci questus de Phaethonte pater;
talis raptus Hylas, talis deprensus Achilles              5
     deposuit gaudens, matre dolente, comas.

What does Love not compel! Encolpos cut the hair with his master unwilling,     yet not forbidding.
Pudens permitted and wept: thus the father, complaining of bold Phaethon,     yielded the reins;
so was Hylas snatched, so Achilles, detected,              5
     laid aside his locks, rejoicing, his mother grieving.

Sed tu ne propera - breuibus ne crede capillis -
tardaque pro tanto munere, barba, ueni.

But you, do not hasten—do not trust in short hair—
and come tardy, beard, in return for so great a gift.

Vidissem modo forte cum sedentem
solum te, Labiene, tres putaui.
Caluae me numerus tuae fefellit:
sunt illinc tibi, sunt et hinc capilli
quales uel puerum decere possunt; 5
nudumst in medio caput nec ullus
in longa pilus area notatur.
Hic error tibi profuit Decembri,
tunc cum prandia misit Imperator:
cum panariolis tribus redisti. 10
Talem Geryonem fuisse credo.

I had just by chance seen you sitting alone,
you only, Labienus; I took you for three.
The number of your bald-pate misled me:
you have hairs on that side, and on this side too,
of a sort that could even befit a boy; 5
the head is naked in the middle, and not a single hair
is marked on the long area. This mistake profited you in December,
when the Emperor sent out luncheons:
you came back with three little bread-baskets. 10
Such I believe Geryon to have been.

Vites censeo porticum Philippi:
si te uiderit Hercules, peristi.

I advise you to avoid the Portico of Philip:
if Hercules sees you, you are done for.

Ceno domi quotiens, nisi te, Charopine, uocaui,
     protinus ingentes sunt inimicitiae,
meque potes stricto medium transfigere ferro,
     si nostrum sine te scis caluisse focum.
Nec semel ergo mihi furtum fecisse licebit?              5
     inprobius nihil est hac, Charopine, gula.
Desine iam nostram, precor, obseruare culinam
     atque aliquando meus det tibi uerba cocus.

Whenever I dine at home, unless I have invited you, Charopine,
     straightway there are vast enmities,
and you could pierce me through the middle with drawn iron,
     if you know our hearth has grown warm without you.
And will it not be permitted me, then, to have committed a theft even once?              5
     nothing is more impudent than this gullet, Charopine.
Cease now, I pray, to observe our kitchen,
     and let my cook at some point put you off with words.

Hic, qui libellis praegrauem gerit laeuam,
notariorum quem premit chorus leuis,
qui codicillis hinc et inde prolatis
epistolisque commodat grauem uoltum
similis Catoni Tullioque Brutoque, 5
exprimere, Rufe, fidiculae licet cogant,
haue Latinum, chaire non potest Graecum.
Si fingere istud me putas, salutemus.

This man, who carries a left hand weighed down with petitions,
whom the light chorus of notaries presses,
who, with codicils brought forth here and there,
and with epistles, lends a grave countenance,
like Cato and Tullius and Brutus, 5
Rufus, though the rack may compel him to express it,
he can manage the Latin “ave”; he cannot the Greek chaire.
If you think me inventing that, let us greet him.

Quae mihi praestiteris memini semperque tenebo.
Cur igitur taceo, Postume? Tu loqueris.

I remember what you have bestowed on me and I shall always keep it.
Why then am I silent, Postumus? You are the one speaking.

Incipio quotiens alicui tua dona referre,
     protinus exclamat: "Dixerat ipse mihi."
Non belle quaedam faciunt duo: sufficit unus              5
     huic operi: si uis ut loquar, ipse tace.
Crede mihi, quamuis ingentia, Postume, dona
     auctoris pereunt garrulitate sui.

Whenever I begin to recount your gifts to someone,
     immediately he cries out: "He himself had told me."
Two do certain things not well: one suffices              5
     for this work: if you want me to speak, you yourself be silent.
Believe me, although immense, Postumus, the gifts
     perish by their author’s garrulity.

Colchida quid scribis, quid scribis, amice, Thyesten?
quo tibi uel Nioben, Basse, uel Andromachen?
Materia est, mihi crede, tuis aptissima chartis
Deucalion uel, si non placet hic, Phaethon.

Why do you write a Colchian, why do you write, my friend, a Thyestes?
What to you either a Niobe, Basse, or an Andromache?
There is material, believe me, most apt for your pages—
Deucalion, or, if this one does not please, Phaethon.

Extemporalis factus est meus rhetor:
Calpurnium non scripsit, et salutauit.

My rhetor became extemporaneous:
he did not write Calpurnius, and he saluted.

Dic mihi, quem portas, uolucrum regina? "Tonantem."
Nulla manu quare fulmina gestat? "Amat."
Quo calet igne deus?

Tell me, whom do you bear, queen of birds? "The Thunderer."
Why does he carry no lightning-bolts in his hand? "He loves."
By what fire does the god grow warm?

"Pueri." Cur mitis aperto
respicis ore Iouem? "De Ganymede loquor."

"Of the boy." Why do you gently, with an open
face, gaze upon Jove? "I speak of Ganymede."

Cui tradas, Lupe, filium magistro
quaeris sollicitus diu rogasque.
Omnes grammaticosque rhetorasque
deuites moneo: nihil sit illi
cum libris Ciceronis aut Maronis; 5
famae Tutilium suae relinquat;
si uersus facit, abdices poetam.
Artes discere uolt pecuniosas?

To which teacher to entrust your son, Lupe,
solicitous, you ask for a long time and keep asking.
I warn you to avoid all the grammarians and the rhetors;
let him have nothing to do with the books of Cicero or of Maro; 5
let him leave Tutilius to his own fame;
if he makes verses, you will disown him as a poet.
Does he wish to learn profitable arts?

Fac discat citharoedus aut choraules;
si duri puer ingeni uidetur, 10
praeconem facias uel architectum.

See that he learn to be a citharode or choraules;
if the boy seems of hard wit, 10
make him a crier or an architect.

Cum uoco te dominum, noli tibi, Cinna, placere:
saepe etiam seruum sic resaluto tuum.

When I call you “master,” do not preen yourself, Cinna:
I often re-salute your slave that way too.

Cras te uicturum, cras dicis, Postume, semper:
dic mihi, cras istud, Postume, quando uenit?
Quam longe cras istud! ubi est?

Tomorrow you say you will live, Postumus—always:
tell me, that “tomorrow,” Postumus, when does it come?
How far off is that “tomorrow”! where is it?

aut unde petendum?
     Numquid apud Parthos Armeniosque latet?
Iam cras istud habet Priami uel Nestoris annos.              5
     Cras istud quanti, dic mihi, possit emi?

or whence is it to be sought?
     Does it perhaps lie hidden among the Parthians and Armenians?
Already that "tomorrow" has the years of Priam or Nestor.              5
     Tell me, for how much could that "tomorrow" be bought?

Cras uiues? Hodie iam uiuere, Postume, serum est:
ille sapit quisquis, Postume, uixit heri.

Will you live tomorrow? To live today already, Postumus, is too late:
That man is wise, whoever, Postumus, lived yesterday.

Quod non argentum, quod non tibi mittimus aurum,
hoc facimus causa, Stella diserte, tua.
Quisquis magna dedit, uoluit sibi magna remitti;
fictibus nostris exoneratus eris.

That we do not send you silver, that we do not send you gold,
we do this for your sake, eloquent Stella.
Whoever has given great things wished great things to be sent back to himself;
you will be exonerated by our earthenware.

Adlatres licet usque nos et usque
et gannitibus inprobis lacessas,
certum est hanc tibi pernegare famam,
olim petis, in meis libellis
qualiscumque legaris ut per orbem. 5
Nam te cur aliquis sciat fuisse?
Ignotus pereas, miser, necesse est.
Non derunt tamen hac in urbe forsan
unus uel duo tresue quattuorue,
pellem rodere qui uelint caninam: 10
nos hac a scabie tenemus ungues.

Though you may bark at us again and again,
and with shameless yappings provoke, nonetheless
it is fixed to deny you this fame,
which you seek—that someday, in my little books,
you be read, of whatever sort, throughout the world. 5
For why should anyone know that you existed?
Unknown you must perish, wretch. Yet there will not be lacking, however, in this city perhaps
one or two or three or even four
who would wish to gnaw a canine hide:
from this itch we keep our nails. 10
we keep our nails from this itch.

Crispulus iste quis est, uxori semper adhaeret
qui, Mariane, tuae? Crispulus iste quis est?
Nescio quid dominae teneram qui garrit in aurem
et sellam cubito dexteriore premit?

Who is this Crispulus, who always adheres to your wife
Mariane? Who is this Crispulus?
Who chatters I know not what into your lady’s tender ear
and presses the chair with his right elbow?

Per cuius digitos currit leuis anulus omnis,              5
     crura gerit nullo qui uiolata pilo?
Nil mihi respondes? "Vxoris res agit" inquis
     "iste meae." Sane certus et asper homo est,
procuratorem uoltu qui praeferat ipso:
     acrior hoc Chius non erit Aufidius.              10
O quam dignus eras alapis, Mariane, Latini:
     te successurum credo ego Panniculo.

Through whose fingers every light ring runs,              5
     who bears legs marred by not a single hair?
You answer nothing to me? "He manages my wife's affairs," you say,
     "that fellow." Certainly he is a resolute and harsh man,
who displays a procurator in his very face:
     Aufidius the Chian will not be sharper than this.              10
O how worthy you were, Mariane, of Latinus’s slaps:
     I believe you will be the successor to Panniculus.

Res uxoris agit? Res ullas crispulus iste?
Res non uxoris, res agit iste tuas.

Does he handle your wife's affairs? Does this Crispulus handle any affairs?
Not your wife's affairs; that one handles yours.

Iure tuo nostris maneas licet, hospes, in hortis,
     si potes in nudo ponere membra solo,
aut si portatur tecum tibi magna supellex:
     nam mea iam digitum sustulit hospitibus.
Nulla tegit fractos — nec inanis — culcita lectos,              5
     putris et abrupta fascia reste iacet.
Sit tamen hospitium nobis commune duobus:
     emi hortos; plus est: instrue tu; minus est.

By your right you may stay, guest, in my gardens,
     if you can lay your limbs on the bare ground,
or if a great outfit of furniture is carried with you for yourself:
     for my own has already lifted a finger at guests.
No mattress — not even an unstuffed one — covers the broken beds,              5
     and the rotten strap lies snapped from its rope.
Still, let the lodging be common to us two:
     I bought the gardens; that is the greater: you furnish them; that is the lesser.

"Quid sentis" inquis "de nostris, Marce, libellis?"
     Sic me sollicitus, Pontice, saepe rogas.
Admiror, stupeo: nihil est perfectius illis,
     ipse tuo cedet Regulus ingenio.
"Hoc sentis?" inquis "faciat tibi sic bene Caesar,              5
     sic Capitolinus Iuppiter." Immo tibi.

"What do you think," you say, "of our little books, Marcus?"
     Thus, anxious, you often ask me, Ponticus.
I admire, I am astounded: nothing is more perfect than those,
     Regulus himself will yield to your genius.
"Is this what you think?" you say, "so may Caesar do you good,              5
     so Capitoline Jupiter." No—rather, to you.

Sextantes, Calliste, duos infunde Falerni,
     tu super aestiuas, Alcime, solue niues;
pinguescat nimio madidus mihi crinis amomo
     lassenturque rosis tempora sutilibus.
Tam uicina iubent non uiuere Mausolea,              5
     cum doceant ipsos posse perire deos.

Pour, Callistus, two sextantes of Falernian,
     you, Alcimus, dissolve the summer snows on top;
let my hair, dripping, grow sleek with excessive amomum,
     and let my temples be wearied with stitched roses.
The Mausolea, so near, bid us not to live,              5
     since they teach that the gods themselves can perish.

Astra polumque dedit, quamuis obstante nouerca,
     Alcidae Nemees terror et Arcas aper
et castigatum Libycae ceroma palaestrae
     et grauis in Siculo puluere fusus Eryx,
siluarumque tremor, tacita qui fraude solebat              5
     ducere non rectas Cacus in antra boues.
Ista tuae, Caesar, quota pars spectatur harenae?
     Dat maiora nouus proelia mane dies.

Astra and the pole he won, although with the stepmother opposing,
     for Alcides: the terror of Nemea and the Arcadian boar,
and the chastised ceroma of the Libyan palestra,
     and Eryx, weighty, laid low in Sicilian dust,
and the tremor of the woods, who by silent fraud was accustomed              5
     Cacus, to lead the cattle not straight (backward) into his caves.
What portion of these is beheld in your arena, Caesar?
     A new morning gives greater battles.

Quot grauiora cadunt Nemeaeo pondera monstro!
     quot tua Maenalios conlocat hasta sues!              10
Reddatur si pugna triplex pastoris Hiberi,
     est tibi qui possit uincere Geryonen.
Saepe licet Graiae numeretur belua Lernae,
     inproba Niliacis quid facit Hydra feris?

How many heavier weights fall upon the Nemean monster!
     how many Maenalian swine does your spear lay low!              10
If the triple combat of the Iberian shepherd be staged,
     there is for you one who can conquer Geryon.
Even if the beast of Graian Lerna be often numbered,
     what does the shameless Hydra accomplish against the Nilean beasts?

Pro meritis caelum tantis, Auguste, dederunt 15

In return for such great merits, Augustus, they have given heaven 15

Alcidae cito di, sed tibi sero dabunt.

To Alcides the gods will give quickly, but to you they will give late.

Saepe salutatus numquam prior ipse salutas:
sic eris Aeternum, Pontiliane, Vale.

Often saluted, you never yourself salute first:
thus you will be Forever, Pontilianus, Farewell.

Hibernos peterent solito cum more recessus
     Atthides, in nidis una remansit auis.
Deprendere nefas ad tempora uerna reuersae
     et profugam uolucres diripuere suae.
Sero dedit poenas: discerpi noxia mater              5
     debuerat, sed tunc cum lacerauit Ityn.

When they were seeking their hibernal retreats in the accustomed manner,
     the Attic birds, one bird remained in the nests.
To seize her was a sacrilege; having returned at the springtime,
     the birds tore to pieces their own fugitive.
She paid the penalty late: the noxious mother deserved to be torn apart              5
     but then—when she lacerated Itys.

Arctoa de gente comam tibi, Lesbia, misi,
ut scires quanto sit tua flaua magis.

From the Arctic people a tress I sent to you, Lesbia,
so that you might know how much more golden yours is.

Antoni Phario nihil obiecture Pothino
     et leuius tabula quam Cicerone nocens,
quid gladium demens Romana stringis in ora?
     hoc admisisset nec Catilina nefas.
Impius infando miles corrumpitur auro,              5
     et tantis opibus uox tacet una tibi.

Antony, you, about to object nothing to Pharian Pothinus,
     and less guilty by the tablet than by Cicero,
why, madman, do you draw the sword against Roman mouths?
     Not even Catiline would have admitted this nefariousness.
An impious soldier is corrupted by unspeakable gold,              5
     and for such great wealth one voice alone is silent for you.

Quid prosunt sacrae pretiosa silentia linguae?
Incipient omnes pro Cicerone loqui.

What good are the precious silences of the sacred tongue?
All will begin to speak on behalf of Cicero.

Infusum sibi nuper a patrono
plenum, Maxime, centiens Syriscus
in sellariolis uagus popinis
circa balnea quattuor pergit.
O quanta est gula, centiens comesse! 5
Quanto maior adhuc, nec accubare!

Syriscus, Maximus, lately filled full with ten million poured in by his patron,
goes roaming to stool-level cook-shops
around the four baths.
O how great is the gullet, to devour ten million! 5
How much greater still, not to recline!

Vmida qua gelidas summittit Trebula ualles
     et uiridis cancri mensibus alget ager,
rura Cleonaeo numquam temerata leone
     et domus Aeolio semper amica Noto
te, Faustine, uocant: longas his exige messes              5
     collibus; hibernum iam tibi Tibur erit.

Where dewy Trebula sends down its chilly valleys
     and the green field grows cold in the months of Cancer,
the fields never profaned by the Cleonaean lion
     and a house always friendly to the Aeolian Notus
call you, Faustinus: complete the long harvests              5
     on these hills; Tibur will now be your winter.

Qui potuit Bacchi matrem dixisse Tonantem,
ille potest Semelen dicere, Rufe, patrem.

He who could call the Thunderer the mother of Bacchus,
that man can, Rufus, call Semele the father.

Non donem tibi cur meos libellos
oranti totiens et exigenti
miraris, Theodore? Magna causa est:
dones tu mihi ne tuos libellos.

Why do you marvel, Theodore, that I do not give you my little books
though you so often beg and demand?
The cause is great:
so that you may not give me your little books.

Pompeios iuuenes Asia atque Europa, sed ipsum
terra tegit Libyes, si tamen ulla tegit.
Quid mirum toto si spargitur orbe? Iacere
uno non poterat tanta ruina loco.

Asia and Europe hold the young Pompeys, but you yourself
the Libyan earth covers—if indeed any covers you.
What wonder if it is scattered through the whole orb? So great a ruin
could not lie in one place.

Quae legis causa nupsit tibi Laelia, Quinte,
uxorem potes hanc dicere legitimam.

Laelia, who married you for the sake of the law, Quintus—
you can call this wife legitimate.

Profecit poto Mithridates saepe ueneno
toxica ne possent saeua nocere sibi.
Tu quoque cauisti cenando tam male semper
ne posses umquam, Cinna, perire fame.

Mithridates succeeded, by often drinking poison,
so that savage toxins could not harm him.
You too have taken precautions, by always dining so badly,
lest you could ever perish from hunger, Cinna.

Narratur belle quidam dixisse, Marulle,
qui te ferre oleum dixit in auricula.

It is wittily narrated that a certain man said, Marullus,
that you carry oil in your auricle.

Si tristi domicenio laboras,
Torani, potes esurire mecum.
Non derunt tibi, si soles propinein,
uiles Cappadocae grauesque porri,
diuisis cybium latebit ouis.              5
Ponetur digitus tenendus unctis
nigra coliculus uirens patella,
algentem modo qui reliquit hortum,
et pultem niueam premens botellus,
et pallens faba cum rubente lardo.              10
Mensae munera si uoles secundae,
marcentes tibi porrigentur uuae
et nomen pira quae ferunt Syrorum,
et quas docta Neapolis creauit,
lento castaneae uapore tostae:              15

If you toil under a gloomy home-supper,
Toranius, you can go hungry with me.
There will not be lacking for you, if you are wont to propinein,
cheap Cappadocians and weighty leeks,
a slice of tunny will lie hidden among divided eggs.              5
A “finger” to be held with greasy fingers will be set down,
a green little cabbage on a black dish,
which has just left the chilly garden,
and a small sausage pressing down the snow-white porridge,
and the pale bean with reddening bacon.              10
If you will the gifts of a second course for the table,
melting grapes will be proffered to you,
and the pears which bear the name of the Syrians,
and those which learned Naples created,
roasted by the slow vapor of the chestnut.              15

uinum tu facies bonum bibendo.
Post haec omnia forte si mouebit
Bacchus quam solet esuritionem,
succurrent tibi nobiles oliuae,
Piceni modo quas tulere rami,              20
et feruens cicer et tepens lupinus.
Parua est cenula—quis potest negare?—
Sed finges nihil audiesue fictum
et uoltu placidus tuo recumbes;
nec crassum dominus leget uolumen              25
nec de Gadibus inprobis puellae
uibrabunt sine fine prurientes
lasciuos docili tremore lumbos;
sed quod nec graue sit nec infacetum,
parui tibia Condyli sonabit.              30

You will make the wine good by drinking.
After all these things, if perchance Bacchus stirs the hunger as he is wont,
noble olives will come to your aid,
which the branches of Picenum have just borne,              20
and boiling chickpea and tepid lupine.
The little supper is small—who can deny it?—
But you will fashion nothing, nor hear anything, feigned,
and with your placid countenance you will recline;
nor will the host read a thick volume,              25
nor will girls from wanton Gades
vibrate without end, itching,
their lascivious loins with pliant tremor;
but, that which is neither heavy nor witless,
the pipe of little Condylus will sound.              30

Haec est cenula. Claudiam sequeris.
Quam nobis cupis esse tu priorem?

This is the little supper. You follow Claudia.
Which do you wish to be first for us?

Vndecies una surrexti, Zoile, cena,
     et mutata tibi est synthesis undecies,
sudor inhaereret madida ne ueste retentus
     et laxam tenuis laederet aura cutem.
Quare ego non sudo, qui tecum, Zoile, ceno?              5
     Frigus enim magnum synthesis una facit.

Eleven times in a single dinner you rose, Zoilus,
     and your synthesis was changed eleven times,
lest the sweat, retained by the soaked garment, might cling,
     and a thin breeze might injure your loosened skin.
Why do I not sweat, I who dine with you, Zoilus?              5
     For a single synthesis makes a great cold.

Non totam mihi, si uacabis, horam
dones et licet inputes, Seuere,
dum nostras legis exigisque nugas.
"Durum est perdere ferias": rogamus
iacturam patiaris hanc ferasque. 5
Quod si legeris ista cum diserto
—sed numquid sumus inprobi?— Secundo,
plus multo tibi debiturus hic est
quam debet domino suo libellus.
Nam securus erit, nec inquieta 10
lassi marmora Sisyphi uidebit,
quem censoria cum meo Seuero
docti lima momorderit Secundi.

Do not grant me, if you have leisure, the whole hour,
     and you may even impute it, Severus,
while you read and examine our trifles.
"It is hard to lose holidays": we ask
that you allow and bear this loss.              5
But if you shall read these with the eloquent
—but are we not impudent?— Secundus,
this little book will be much more indebted to you
than it owes to its master.
For it will be secure, nor will it see the restless              10
marbles of weary Sisyphus,
when the censorial file of learned Secundus,
together with my Severus, shall have bitten it.

Semper pauper eris, si pauper es, Aemiliane:
dantur opes nullis nunc nisi diuitibus.

You will always be poor, if you are poor, Aemilianus:
wealth is granted now to none except the rich.

Quid promittebas mihi milia, Gaure, ducenta,
si dare non poteras milia, Gaure, decem?
An potes et non uis? Rogo, non est turpius istud?

Why were you promising me two hundred thousand, Gaure,
if you could not give, Gaure, ten thousand?
Or can you and do not wish to? I ask, is that not more shameful?

I, tibi dispereas, Gaure: pusillus homo es.

Go, may you utterly perish, Gaure: you are a puny man.

Insequeris, fugio; fugis, insequor. Haec mihi mens est:
uelle tuum nolo, Dindyme, nolle uolo.

You pursue, I flee; you flee, I pursue. This is my mind:
your willing I do not will, Dindyme; I will your unwillingness.

Iam tristis nucibus puer relictis
clamoso reuocatur a magistro,
et blando male proditus fritillo,
arcana modo raptus e popina,
aedilem rogat udus aleator. 5
Saturnalia transiere tota,
nec munuscula parua nec minora
misisti mihi, Galla, quam solebas.
Sane sic abeat meus December:
scis certe, puto, uestra iam uenire 10
Saturnalia, Martias Kalendas;
tunc reddam tibi, Galla, quod dedisti.

Now the boy, sad with his nuts abandoned,
is called back by the clamorous teacher,
and, badly betrayed by the coaxing dice-box,
just now snatched from the secret backroom of a tavern,
the drenched gambler petitions the aedile. 5
The Saturnalia have wholly passed,
and neither little gifts nor the larger ones
did you send me, Galla, as you used to.
Well then, let my December go off thus:
you surely know, I think, that your Saturnalia now come 10
on the Kalends of March;
then I shall pay back to you, Galla, what you gave.